Your wife starts working down the list

That was on Saturday. By Wednesday, you'd forgotten about the list as your immersed yourself in the daily routine of being a successful banker and father. It was only after you were leaving work that the list crossed your mind. You had just tossed your briefcase into the car and sat down behind the wheel when your phone vibrated in your pocket. Slipping it out, you see that Amy has sent you a text.

Working late. Have important meeting. Will be home late.

Okay, you text back. I'll take care of the kids. Love you.

As you slip your phone back into your pocket, the faint twinge of suspicion tweaked at the back of your mind. Your discovery from Saturday pushing forward in your mind full **** as you started the car and headed towards the school. Picking your daughters up, getting them home, cooking dinner and defusing the numerous little fights that two teenage girls have constantly, kept you distracted enough that you didn't think about Amy or where she was until after 10 pm. The girls had gone off to bed, you'd poured yourself a small neat whiskey and was just settling down to watch something mindless on the television when your phone chimed in your pocket. Pulling out your phone, you saw that Amy had texted you. As you opened up the message, you are surprised at the barely legible text she's sent.

Styll workeng. Lots to go ouver with Derek. Be home late.

That's not like Amy at all, you think to yourself, remembering how proud she was of her spelling, of how correct she always needed things to be. To have that many mistakes in one text meant that she was probably drunk. As this thought crossed your mind, you remembered the list.

Slipping your phone into your pocket and sipping at your whiskey, you wander into the study, sitting down at your desk and opening the drawer you'd stuffed the list into. Pulling it out, you reread the list, wondering how many items your wife has checked off already.

"Definitely number 3," you mutter to yourself, picking up your new pen from out of the drawer and crossing "Getting her drunk" off the list. As you sit there, your curiosity grows and you find yourself pulling your phone out.

Okay. You text back to Amy. Where are you?

Still at Offyce. Y? Amy texts back a few moments later.

"I'll bet," you mutter, tapping the location services on your phone. Since you had purchased phones for the family, you had insisted that everyone shared their locations. With two teenaged girls, you wanted to know where they were at all times... only you'd never thought of using the location feature on your own wife. "At the office, huh?" You say shaking your head as your phone reports that Amy is at Gilligan's bar and restaurant. Gilligan's was a nautical themed sports bar close to her office here all her coworkers when after hours.

Just wondering. You text back, the suspicion that she's with another man growing within you. As you think about her at some seedy bar with a stranger, you are surprised that you don't feel the hurt and anger of betrayal. In fact, you feel a thrill of excitement at the thought of your wife having drinks with some stranger. You feel a jolt of arousal speed through you as you wonder if any of her co-workers are there with them, sharing in your humiliation. I'm off to bed. See you when you get home. You text, finishing off your whiskey and standing up. It is only when you get upstairs to your bedroom that you realize you've still got the list and pen in your hands. Shaking your head at your strange behavior, you tuck both pen and paper into your bedside table as you lay down and are almost instantly asleep. Your dreams focus on Amy, seeing her sitting there at a table at Gilligan's, her proper office attire setting her apart from the crowd of regulars as she sips at another drink. She's lost track of how many she'd had... three or is this one four? She wonders as she looks across the crowded bar, nodding at a couple of her coworkers before spotting him at the bar.

Prpbab;y goin to spend night at offycee. Amy typed in response to your husband's text, her **** mind knowing she was making numerous mistakes. Stll hve tonn of work to due.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, jarring you from the unusually deep sleep. Pulling your phone out you look at the screen in astonishment, reading the exact message that you had just dreamed. Prpbab;y goin to spend night at offycee. Stll hve tonn of work to due.