We had it on the calendar.
Friday night. 8 PM. After dinner. No phones. No excuses.
I’d been talking a big game all week—trying to get back into the rhythm of intimacy after what felt like a month of “maybe tomorrow.”
I shaved my legs. Lit the candles. Even wore the fancy underwear that’s 90% lace and 10% circulation.
And then at 6:37 PM…
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