My good-looking "husband" and I are divorced. He's directing a play. I am a designer or script writer. I wear my hair long, with jeans, informal, and I go backstage. He is flabbergasted at me and watches nervously. His second wife is there (as I hopped up on stage, I have to be careful not to step on placemats and napkins. The stage shakes like an earthquake and made walking difficult). I strike up a conversation and lead her into a discussion about her first wife, i.e. me. I don't tell her who I am. He can't stand seeing us together talking, so he comes back to "work on the set" near us. He's painting shades of pink on the set. The stuff he's standing on (cardboard), starts to break and fall. He runs in place as it avalanches under his feet and into the water. Someone asks him how much is lost. He can't tell because it's underwater. I then have to leave, because I have a debt to pay and must go to the bank. I come back, dressed in a nice suit with my hair up. Now I can be identified as "Jean," his first wife. My husband and his second wife are on stage and I walk up to them (only my conscious perspective is with the second wife now). She/I is apprehensive about the classiness of the 1st wife. The "husband" then wants to be with the 1st wife. He follows her. They still love each other.