Jan Week 3: Spa Day with Samantha...A private massage...with a woman. (Luck: +10)

Leah’s massage therapist was a woman named Zuzanna, who looked both impossibly delicate and as if she could snap Leah’s spine like a breadstick if she felt like it. Zuzanna. At first, Leah worried she’d just fall asleep and start snoring, but Zuzanna got to work with oils and hands so firm and knowing that Leah’s body felt like a musical instrument being expertly played.

She surrendered herself to the table, letting Zuzanna’s hot palms knead out every knot, her mind drifting into that pleasant fog between awake and dreaming. She imagined herself in a different universe—a universe where she had never made that stupid fucking video, never let Howard into her life, never had to spend every day waiting for the next shoe to drop. In this universe, she and Jonathan lived in a sunlit apartment, ate croissants for breakfast, and spent weekends reading in bed with the windows open. There was no surveillance, no leverage, no secret she was constantly one misstep away from exposing.

“You are very tense,” Zuzanna murmured. Zuzanna’s hands traveled down her back, then along the backs of her thighs, and Leah felt her entire skeleton unlock.

“You have no idea,” Leah mumbled into the padded face cradle, and they both laughed.

For a beat, Leah let herself believe she’d left her problems somewhere out in the locker room, safe from following her into this cocoon of warmth and scented oils. She wondered if this was how normal people felt all the time—not scheming, not hiding, not living in fear of the next humiliating surprise.

By the time Zuzanna finished, Leah’s skin tingled and her head felt like a helium balloon. She staggered into the hallway in a daze, wrapped in a towel so soft it could have been made of actual clouds. Her reflection in the wall-length mirror showed a woman with wet, tousled hair and a dumb, blissed-out smile. Leah didn’t even register her own nakedness this time; she just floated back to the lobby, where Samantha was already waiting, fully dressed and scrolling through her phone.

“You look like you just had all the evil spirits exorcised out of you. Good session?” Sam looked up, grinned, and arched an eyebrow.

“I think I achieved clinical **** about halfway through. I saw God, and she has really strong hands.” Leah collapsed beside her on the bench.

“You’re glowing, babe. I’m so jealous. My guy was, like, a failed Swedish DJ who just wanted to talk about DMT.” Sam laughed.

“Want to get an early dinner? I don’t think I can feel my legs.” Leah snorted, feeling lighter than she had in months.

"Sounds good to me." Leah said with a smile.

They ate an early supper at some casual, overpriced place and enjoyed a relaxed meal and more conversations about everything under the sun. After eating out Leah was soon headed back home to Jonathan.