01/31/2025
WHEN I GOT HOME FROM WORK EARLY, MY HUSBAND OFFERED TO GIVE ME A FOOT MASSAGE—IT FELT SUSPICIOUS, AND I WAS RIGHT
When I got home early that evening, my husband, Greg, was waiting by the door, grinning unusually bright. "Long day?" he asked, kissing my cheek.
I nodded, dropping my bag. "Exhausting. Meetings all day."
"Perfect," he said with a boyish grin. "Why don’t you sit down? I’ll give you a foot massage."
Greg wasn’t exactly known for spontaneous affection—he’d groan just passing the remote. His sudden transformation raised a red flag, but I shrugged it off, too tired to care.
I sank onto the couch, letting him slip off my shoes. His hands worked with surprising skill. My suspicions flickered. "What’s gotten into you? You’re never this… thoughtful."
He laughed, too loud. "CAN’T A HUSBAND PAMPER HIS WIFE WITHOUT IT BEING SUSPICIOUS?"
I forced a smile, but something felt off. Then, I heard it—a faint click, like the bathroom door shutting.
"Did you hear that?" I asked, sitting up.
"Hear what?" His hands froze before resuming.
"The bathroom door..."
"Oh! Probably the pipes. This old house, you know," he stammered.
My chest tightened. I stood, brushing his hands away. "Greg, what’s going on?"
"Nothing! You’re just tired. Sit down…"
Ignoring him, I headed for the bathroom. His panicked voice rose behind me. "WAIT! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!"
I flung the bathroom door open.⬇️WHEN I GOT HOME FROM WORK EARLY, MY HUSBAND OFFERED TO GIVE ME A FOOT MASSAGE—IT FELT SUSPICIOUS, AND I WAS RIGHT
When I got home early that evening, my husband, Greg, was waiting by the door, grinning unusually bright. "Long day?" he asked, kissing my cheek.
I nodded, dropping my bag. "Exhausting. Meetings all day."
"Perfect," he said with a boyish grin. "Why don’t you sit down? I’ll give you a foot massage."
Greg wasn’t exactly known for spontaneous affection—he’d groan just passing the remote. His sudden transformation raised a red flag, but I shrugged it off, too tired to care.
I sank onto the couch, letting him slip off my shoes. His hands worked with surprising skill. My suspicions flickered. "What’s gotten into you? You’re never this… thoughtful."
He laughed, too loud. "CAN’T A HUSBAND PAMPER HIS WIFE WITHOUT IT BEING SUSPICIOUS?"
I forced a smile, but something felt off. Then, I heard it—a faint click, like the bathroom door shutting.
"Did you hear that?" I asked, sitting up.
"Hear what?" His hands froze before resuming.
"The bathroom door..."
"Oh! Probably the pipes. This old house, you know," he stammered.
My chest tightened. I stood, brushing his hands away. "Greg, what’s going on?"
"Nothing! You’re just tired. Sit down…"
Ignoring him, I headed for the bathroom. His panicked voice rose behind me. "WAIT! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!"
I flung the bathroom door open.⬇️