A woman walked into my massage studio one quiet afternoon wearing bright red lipstick and a silky robe. She looked confident\u2014almost smug.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan you take a quick photo of me?\u201d she asked, holding up her phone. \u201cIt\u2019s for my boyfriend.\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled politely and took the picture. She posed dramatically, tossing her hair over one shoulder.<\/p>\n
\u201cPerfect,\u201d she said. \u201cFinally, I\u2019m going to relax.\u201d<\/p>\n
I gestured toward the massage table. \u201cToo much stress?\u201d<\/p>\n
She laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWay too much.\u201d<\/p>\n
She lay down on the table, face in the cushion, and I started the session like I would with any client.<\/p>\n
At first she was quiet.<\/p>\n
But after a few minutes, she started talking.<\/p>\n
Some clients do that\u2014they treat a massage like a therapy session. Normally I just nod and let them vent.<\/p>\n
This time, though\u2026 I wish she had stayed quiet.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy life is about to get so much easier,\u201d she said smugly.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh?\u201d I replied neutrally.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy boyfriend is divorcing his wife,\u201d she continued. \u201cFinally.\u201d<\/p>\n
I kept my hands steady even though something about the way she said it made my stomach twist.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s boring,\u201d the woman went on. \u201cNo makeup, always working, cooking, cleaning. Total housewife type.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt a strange chill creep up my spine.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe told me he\u2019s keeping the house. She\u2019ll keep the kids, obviously,\u201d she added casually. \u201cNot my problem. I\u2019m not raising someone else\u2019s brats.\u201d<\/p>\n
For a moment I stopped breathing.<\/p>\n
Her phone suddenly buzzed on the small table beside her.<\/p>\n
She glanced at the screen.<\/p>\n
And that\u2019s when I saw the photo lighting up the display.<\/p>\n
My husband\u2019s face.<\/p>\n
My hands froze for a split second before I forced myself to continue the massage.<\/p>\n
Every word she had just said echoed in my head.<\/p>\n
Divorce.<\/p>\n
House.<\/p>\n
Kids.<\/p>\n
The woman sighed happily. \u201cOh, that\u2019s him calling.\u201d<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t move.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll answer later,\u201d she said lazily.<\/p>\n
I leaned closer and spoke calmly.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, dear,\u201d I said softly. \u201cYou should answer it.\u201d<\/p>\n
She lifted her head slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked straight at the phone screen again.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause that\u2019s your boyfriend,\u201d I said evenly. \u201cOr, better to say\u2026 my husband calling you.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room went silent.<\/p>\n
She slowly lifted her head and turned toward me, her face pale.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n
At that exact moment, my husband called again. His photo lit up the screen.<\/p>\n
Her mouth opened and closed like she couldn\u2019t find words.<\/p>\n
Then she suddenly tried to sit up.<\/p>\n
Except\u2026 she couldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
Her arms barely moved. Her legs stayed heavy against the table.<\/p>\n
Her eyes widened with panic.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat the hell did you do?\u201d she shouted. \u201cI CAN\u2019T MOVE!\u201d<\/p>\n
I calmly wiped my hands on a towel.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s called a deep tissue nerve compression technique,\u201d I said. \u201cMassage therapists learn it to release muscle spasms.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her breathing sped up.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut if you press the wrong spot for a few seconds,\u201d I added calmly, \u201cthe muscles temporarily shut down.\u201d<\/p>\n
She stared at me in horror.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d I said, picking up her buzzing phone as my husband called for the third time.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt wears off in about five minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n
I answered the phone and put it on speaker.<\/p>\n
\u201cHello?\u201d my husband said.<\/p>\n
I smiled down at the terrified woman lying helpless on the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cHi, honey,\u201d I said sweetly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think you and I need to talk.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
She Booked a Massage With Me \u2014 Not Knowing I Was Married to Her Secret A woman walked into my massage studio one quiet afternoon wearing bright red lipstick and … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":7407,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7409","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-real-life-story"],"brizy_media":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7409","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7409"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7409\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7413,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7409\/revisions\/7413"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/7407"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7409"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7409"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyreadin.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7409"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}