My husband, David, and I decided to do this fancy spa weekend thing. You know, like one of those “let’s reconnect” packages with couples and all that.
Unlike him, he was excited about it and thought it’d be romantic.
So we got there in the evening after dropping the kids at my mom's. We checked in, and this nice receptionist said I could go first for my individual session while he waited in their little lounge area right next to the treatment room.
I got in; the walls were really thin, like I could hear my husband clear his throat and flip pages in some boring car magazine he was given, and every time he took a sip of his whiskey, the ice clinked loud and clear. It was wild how close he was.
I'd been texting this massage therapist, Alex, for weeks, nothing crazy at first; just flirty
