Valentine's Nightmare

It was the third Valentine's Day after our marriage. Samuel was complaining to his friends about me, "Noelle's very uptight. She's so boring in bed. It's like doing it with a blow-up doll. I'd never have married her if she wasn't rich."

I went to a club and got a model with an eight-pack to please me. Enraged, Samuel demanded an explanation. I eyed him and snickered. "Look at you. You're so flabby. I'd never have married you if you weren't at least good-looking."

Cheaters

I was standing at the entrance, holding a new phone and a bouquet of flowers, happy as a lark, but then I heard Samuel on a call, complaining to his friends about my performance in bed.

Samuel Lawson, my husband, was smoking on the balcony. He muttered, "See you at the club tonight."

I backed off quietly, my heart aching. Samuel courted me back when he needed money to get through a hurdle. I gave him my money and helped tide his company over. Then, he started getting busy.

We'd been married for three years, and life was nothing but peaceful, albeit boring sometimes. Samuel would buy me gifts sometimes. At the time, I always thought I was the happiest girl in the world.

It was shocking that he found me to be rubbish. Three years in, and he was already showing signs of cheating. Well, two could play the game. I tossed the gifts into the bin and went straight to the club. It was just money in exchange for fun, after all.

The sun was already setting, but the heat of love was still raging on. There was an air of lust hanging about. Brochures and promotions for Valentine's Day were abundant, and couples filled the streets.

I stopped my car, and the club's manager greeted me. "Alone today, Ms. Croyford?"

"Yes. Get me someone young, hot, and down for anything." Before I got married, I would always wine and dine with my clients in this club. It was a good place.

The manager took me into a parlor, and then a row of models came in. Six feet tall, eight packs, yeah, they were all handsome. Guess they knew what women liked. I eyed them all and was about to appoint one as my playmate, but a young man came barging in.

The young man took up the tail of the line. He was flushed, and his eyes were clear and filled with innocence. I pointed at him. "This one."

Everyone left, and the lad stayed. He introduced himself, "I'm Ronald Weeks, lady. Twenty-three years old, and I've just graduated from college. Oh, here's a gift for you."

He took out a pot of mint, apparently from out of nowhere. The smell sobered me up, and I was half-amused. "It is Valentine's Day today. And you gave me this?"

"Yes. I bought this for you," said Ronald earnestly.

"Why?"

"You're a beautiful woman, and yet you still came to this place on