When Warmth Rose

Howard's touch became lighter, soothing my nerves and lulling me into a near-sleep state. "We're all done, ma'am," he announced, just as I was on the edge of dozing off.

I sat up quickly, removing my eye mask in surprise. "Finished already?" I asked, a little disappointed that the session had ended so soon.

I glanced up to see Howard cleaning his hands with a damp cloth, noticing a smear of massage lotion. I looked away, my face heating up at the sight.

Howard remained unfazed, his expression unreadable. "Yes, this session should help you feel better. If you'd like to continue with the messages, just message me to set up another appointment," he said, packing his things to leave.

I sprang to my feet, ready to walk Howard out, but something about his look just did not sit right with me.

My shirt was still halfway up.

Then, out of nowhere, the door rattled.

I jumped, almost forgetting I had a husband in the picture.

If he walked in on another guy and me, my shirt half-off and all, he would be livid.

I yanked my shirt down quickly just as Howard made it to the door.

Sure enough, my husband's face soured the second he saw a strange guy standing there.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?"

My husband had a short fuse, and I was worried they would come to blows, so I jumped in with an explanation.

"Honey, this is a professional I found. He just finished giving me a massage."

"A professional? A guy?" My husband's face twisted up even more after that. "Since when do guys do massages? He's probably up to no good!"

He shot me a look full of doubt. "You were just getting a massage? Nothing else?"

"It was just a massage, for real!" I was ticked off that he did not trust me. "Don't believe me? Go check the cameras!"

We had put in a surveillance cam in the living room to keep an eye on the kids.

Never thought it would prove its worth in a situation like that.

Seeing I was not backing down, my husband started to get that maybe nothing sketchy was going on, and his frown eased up a bit.

"Sorry, I got it wrong."

"It's fine."

Howard was still all ice, gave a nod, and took off.

Did not look back once.

That made my husband breathe easier.

He saw I was still steamed and came over to wrap me in a hug. "Let it go, babe. Any guy would've been concerned in that spot..."

My eyes welled up a little. I got where he was coming from, but it still stung.

In the days immediately after giving birth, I was a bundle of raw emotions, tears coming easily.

My husband looked anxious, pleading for my forgiveness and doing his best to lift my spirits.

I was not truly angry; I could understand that in his position. I would have doubted, too.

I was the first to pull up the security cam footage. "Look! Nothing happened between us, see for yourself.

"Mr. Jones, or Howard, was a tip from my best friend. He may look young, but he's got over ten years under his belt, a total pro."

Since Howard's visit, I did not feel so tight in the chest anymore, and nursing my baby was a breeze.

My husband kept saying he trusted me, but his eyes told the real story.

He watched the entire surveillance tape.

Only then did he genuinely relax.