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Home alone again? Your wife isn't answering her texts, and she hasn't called for hours. You've even contacted a few friends, and they haven't heard from her, either. And you'd be worried, except that this is the third time this week. She didn't even leave a note. You're fending for yourself for dinner, and the house is quiet. She'll stroll in when she feels like it, and have some lame excuse for you. Maybe she'll blame it on traffic. Perhaps she'll say that she had to work late again, that she's under deadline. Maybe when you act skeptical, she'll be defensive and blame you for picking a fight. She just wants to go to bed. You apologize, follow her into the bedroom and try to be sweet. You say that you have the perfect way to relax her after a long day. She resists you at first, and then relents with a sly smile. You tenderly kiss her thighs and part them. She's unusually wet, but you begin anyway. After a few tastes, you cannot deny that something is different, but you ignore it. Hungrily, you dive deeper. She sighs and whimpers, and you're just happy that you can please her this way. You know that this is the only offering you have. This body of hers that was once yours alone is now open to others, and this reality stirs you, thrills you. What was once sacred, she now gives away so easily. But you will not speak of it. You are just happy that she came home at all.