Yes, I’m married, and we celebrated with a two-day hangover. What I love most is that my friends see a woman's worth as more than marriage or kids. Still, if I could have babies in the next few years, I’d be one very happy mama.
“Thanks, Phi. It’s been a long road that felt never-ending at times, but I’m proud of where Sam and I have landed.”
“Of course,” Mack jumps in. “We all know your and Sam’s mantra. We heard it on every girls' trip, at every dinner out …”
Before she can finish, four voices cut in, loud and unified: “Stick to the plan!”
“Honestly, that phrase is burned into our group chat history,” Nessa says as my cheeks flame.
The group bursts into laughter. I laugh along too, because, yeah, I was a broken record, even to myself.
“There were moments it felt like all sacrifice and no reward,” I admit, smiling as I glance down at my half-empty glass. “But now? It was worth every spreadsheet.”
Saying the wordrewardmakes my cheeks flush further. The girls keep chatting, but my mind wanders to a memory. It still makes me press my thighs together under the table.
Sam and I had a … system. Positive reinforcement, let’s say. It is what kept us on track and made the monotony of budgeting enjoyable.
After I cut his emergency appendectomy cost from $5,500 to $250, he stared at me like I had just stripped in public and whispered:
“Baby, hearing you handle billing like that? I'm so turned on.”
I’m on hold with the hospital, but that doesn’t stop me from raising an eyebrow and murmuring. “Oh, really? Show me.”
“Is my naughty student angling for a reward?” he teases, voice low, fingers already skimming my hip. “Remember, no one likes a teacher’s pet.” I feel his lips trail from my ear, down my neck, along the edge of my collarbone.
My tank top strap slips from my shoulder. My pulse thunders.
“But, sir,” I whisper, “I went above and beyond. I think that deserves something … extra.”
“Don’t worry, Miss Rebecca. You’ll be rewarded as long as you stay on task,” he croons.
As he lowers to his knees and kisses me lower, down my stomach, to my waistline, with careful slowness, the hold music clicks off.
“Hello, Mrs. Hughes? I just have a few details to confirm for your payment.”
I nearly whimper. My voice comes out strangled. “Yes, I’m here. Sorry. Go ahead.”
“Can you confirm your home address?”
As I stutter out, “243 Huntington Ave.” Sam slides one finger inside me—slow, teasing, deliberate.
“Thank you, and just a few more questions …”
“Becs, are you ready?” Nessa’s voice cuts through the haze like a spotlight, and I blink, jolted back to the present.
I sit up straighter, clearing my throat as I glance around the room. “Ready? Of course. Ready for …?”
She grins with a knowing expression, one brow arched. “Tonight’s theme—Tarot & Tonics. You’re up first for a reading,” she clarifies.
She gestures to the candlelit table, the cards already fanned and waiting. The group leans in, their eyes twinkling with anticipation.
A faint crimson washes over my face as I smile. “I’m ready, let’s see what the universe has to say.”
Nessa shuffles the tarot deck with a flair that makes her beaded bracelets clink softly. “Alright, Becs. Pick three: past, present, future.”
I lift an eyebrow but oblige, pulling three cards and sliding them across the table. Nessa flips the first one. “Ooooh, Six of Wands.” She looks up at me, smiling. “Big-time victory energy, public recognition, success, all that jazz.”
Everyone makes a satisfied noise of agreement.
