I stood on the steps of a large, unmarked building, my heart racing. The address the woman had given me wasn’t some seedy motel or suspicious private residence—it was an elegant office building in the city’s upscale district.
“What kind of service is this?” I muttered under my breath, clutching the note in my pocket as if it might reveal more.As I entered the building, the receptionist gave me a polite smile.
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked.“Uh, yes. I was told to come at 2 p.m.,” I stammered.
She nodded knowingly, handed me a clipboard, and gestured toward a private lounge. “Please fill this out. Someone will be with you shortly.”The form asked for my name, contact information, and specific “preferences.” Preferences? I was baffled but wrote vague answers, unwilling to give anything away.
Minutes later, a woman in a sleek pantsuit approached. She was the epitome of professionalism, but there was a sharpness in her eyes.“Mrs. Morgan?” she said, calling me by my maiden name. My stomach churned—how did she know that?
“Yes,” I replied hesitantly.She smiled and extended a hand. “My name is Jessica. Let’s go to my office and discuss the details.”
I followed her down a hallway lined with frosted glass doors. Her office was minimalistic but sophisticated, with a large desk and a comfortable seating area.“Please, have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the chair opposite hers.
I sat down, gripping my bag tightly. “Look, I don’t really know what this is about—”Jessica cut me off with a laugh. “Oh, I think you do. If your husband gave you my number, he must have told you something.”
My heart sank. So this was about Denton. “He didn’t tell me much,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “What exactly is this… arrangement?”Jessica leaned back in her chair, her smile growing wider. “We specialize in crafting bespoke surprise experiences for our clients. Exclusive getaways, private events, things like that. Your husband hired us to create something unique for you. A… second honeymoon, if I’m not mistaken.”
I blinked, stunned. “Wait… what?”She chuckled again. “It’s not unusual for spouses to suspect something is amiss when they stumble across our notes or communications. But rest assured, everything is entirely aboveboard. Your husband wanted this to be a surprise, but I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now.”
I sat in silence as her words sank in. Denton wasn’t having an affair. He wasn’t hiding something scandalous. He was planning a romantic gesture—a getaway just for us.Jessica slid a folder across the desk. Inside were photos of tropical beaches, luxury resorts, and a handwritten itinerary labeled “For My Love.” Tears stung my eyes as I read his notes about the places he thought I’d love, the activities he’d planned, and how much he wanted to reconnect with me.
“I’m sorry for the confusion,” Jessica said gently. “I’ll let you decide how you want to proceed—whether to tell him you know or let him think it’s still a surprise.”
I nodded, my face burning with embarrassment. “Thank you,” I murmured, clutching the folder as I left.
That evening, when Denton walked through the door, I hugged him tighter than I ever had before. He looked at me, surprised.
“What was that for?” he asked, laughing.
“Just because,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.
I didn’t tell him I knew about his plans. I wanted to let him have his surprise. And this time, I’d let myself trust the man I’d married.