My husband and I dated for eight years before we got married. I’m not really sure why we did it. By the time we tied the knot, I think our best years were over, really. I guess we both just settled. We tried to rekindle things a few times. We tried just about everything. He’s even suggested swinging, which I get. Same meal for ten years after all. He’s bored with me probably, but no way would I go there.
“Hey, you’re not ready,” my husband said.
“I’m not going. I really don’t want to party on some boat in the middle of the night. Besides, it’s themed. Pirates right? What are we, twelve?”
“It will be fun. Do something a little out of our comfort zone,” he said.
“You go, have fun,” I said. Having him out of my hair for a while will be fun for me, anyway.
“Whatever,” he said in his disappointed tone he uses to try to coerce me. He got a bag with some stuff in it.
“What’s this?”
“My theme. I’m going as Captain Morgan,” he said. “You could go as my slave wench.”
“Yeah. No. I don’t think so,” I said.
“Ok, I’m out. If you change your mind, call me.”
He was out the door in a hot second, and I was free. That was, until my girlfriend Linda came over. If there was ever a woman for conspiracy theory, she’s it.
“You did not let him go alone?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“A party boat? Dressed as a horny pirate, ‘out of your comfort zone?’ And then he hardly fights you at all when you don’t go. I think he made that slave wench shit up just because he knew you would go all feminist and stay home.”
“So you think he’s going to this thing to hook up and deliberately manipulated me to go alone?” I asked.
“Think about it. Who’s idea was it to swing or whatever?” she said.
“Not mine.”
“I rest my case. That boat will be crawling with boozed up pussy waiting to get a little captain in them,” she said. My stomach churned a bit at the thought. Was I jealous? Was I just… It was fine. Wasn’t it?
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