Love has taught me to fulfill

The company's annual party was that night, but my wife, Emily, suddenly sent me on a business trip. As the plane touched down, I got a call from her assistant, Michael.

Before I could even say hello, he asked, "Mr. Walker, did you trick Emily into sending you away so you could have a date with me?"

Emily's giggling response echoed from the phone. "What do you think, silly?"

"Then tonight we'll try something new, I promise you'll like it..."

The call ended with a flurry of suggestive sounds. I clenched my jaw, the pain a physical ache in my chest. I dialed Emily’s number again and again. It went unanswered, then straight to voicemail. With a bitter laugh, I put my phone away. From that moment on, I decided I wouldn't bother with her anymore.

But later, Emily would beg me to love her again.

1.

Standing on the windswept street outside the airport, I kept dialing Emily’s number. I prayed she’d pick up, tell me it was all a misunderstanding, a silly party game. But nothing.

I remembered Emily’s words that morning: "John, I'll be waiting for you at home. Safe travels."

I tried to convince myself the call was a hallucination. But the image of Emily in another man’s arms, her face flushed, kept flashing through my mind.

Desperation gnawing at me, I called a colleague. They confirmed Emily hadn’t gone to the team-building event, and neither had Michael. The last flicker of hope died.

I clutched my chest, the pain intensifying, and sank to the ground. Then I saw Michael's latest Instagram post.

"Tested and approved. Emily is definitely soft."

The picture showed his bare chest, a dark butterfly tattoo on his shoulder. His hands gripped a woman's waist, his lips pressed against her lower abdomen. The woman’s face wasn't visible, but the way her fingers dug into his shoulder spoke volumes about her enjoyment. On her lower left abdomen was a dark rose tattoo.

I stared at that tattoo. I knew it was Emily. It was a unique design she'd gotten six months ago, sneaking off without telling me. I only found out after it had healed. I’d been furious. I’d worried about her health, the pain, the potential risks of the ink.

She’d brushed me off, called me controlling, and stormed out to spend the night at a bar. I ended up apologizing to her in front of her friends just to get back in her good graces.

Back then, I’d naively suggested we get matching tattoos. She’d scoffed and told me I was crazy. I, in my lovesick delusion, thought she was just being protective of me. Now I understood. She was laughing at my pathetic, wishful thinking.

And I was pathetic. Thankfully, I was finally waking up.

I don't know how long I sat there in the cold. Emily's call finally broke through the numbness that had crept into my hands and feet. The chill had seeped into my bones. Shivering, I answered.

Emily's voice exploded from the speaker. "John Walker! How dare you take so long to answer! Why did you stand up Mr. Davis? Do you know how much this is going to cost us in p...