It started as a harmless joke. Before my husband, Jake, left for his office Christmas party, I grabbed a pen and playfully wrote on his chest, “If you can read this, you’re too close!” We laughed, and he kissed me goodbye, heading off to his event.
The next morning, as he got out of the shower, I noticed something on his skin. Someone had written back: “Don’t worry, I was just checking.” My stomach dropped.
“Jake, what is this?” I asked, my voice shaking.
His face turned pale as he looked down. “I—I have no idea.”
But the smudged ink and lipstick stain near the message told me otherwise. My joke had unexpectedly uncovered something I wasn’t ready for. And now, I needed the truth.
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