I placed a hand on my chest, pretending concern.
“Love… are you nervous?”
He froze, pale.
“Nervous?!”
“They say when you’re anxious about a date… your body reacts.”
“I WON’T MAKE IT!”
He rushed toward the stairs.
“Oh—and don’t even think about using the upstairs bathroom,” I added sweetly.
He stopped mid-step.
“Why not?”
“I’m cleaning it.”
What happened next was unforgettable.
My “corporate genius” husband, full of big words like “synergy,” scrambling upstairs with zero dignity left, his “important meeting” clearly canceled.
The bathroom door slammed.
The sounds that followed… dramatic, to say the least.
I sighed.
Then I picked up my phone.
Opened the group chat.
“Girls, is the beer plan still on?”
Replies came instantly.
—Of course!
—We’re waiting!
—Tonight we celebrate freedom!
I touched up my lipstick.
Grabbed my keys.
My bag.
My dignity.
