A Woman Booked a Relaxing Massage—She Had No Idea Her Therapist Was the Wife of the Man She Was Stealing
She walked into my studio like she owned the world. Red lips, silk robe, a confident smile. “Can you take a photo of me?” she asked sweetly. “I want to send it to my boyfriend.”
I obliged. She looked stunning — not a hair out of place.
“Finally,” she sighed, settling onto the table. “Time to unwind.”
“Rough week?” I asked.
“Oh, you know,” she said, flipping her hair. “My boyfriend’s dealing with his soon-to-be ex-wife. Poor guy. She’s just a frumpy little housewife. No makeup, no style. Always busy with their kids and housework. I don’t know how he put up with that for so long. At least he’s keeping the house. And the kids? She can have them.”
I froze. Something about her story rang too familiar. Then her phone lit up.
A call.
From my husband.
With her photo.
She giggled. “Oh, I’ll call him back later.”
I leaned closer and whispered, “No, sweetheart. You should really answer that. Because your boyfriend? That’s my husband.”
And that’s when the real tension began.
She gasped. Then froze.
“W-what did you do?! I can’t move!”
Let’s just say… she came in for relaxation. She left with a very different kind of therapy.
Full story in the first comment below.
You never think it’ll happen to you. I thought my husband and I had built a life that no one could touch. But then a young, beautiful woman walked into my massage studio and started talking about her life. What she said left me speechless, but my response left her paralyzed.
