Confession

I took him up on his offer of the shower. I took a nice long one, scrubbing the feel of him off of me, or at least trying to. I still tingled from what he did to me. When I finished the shower, both men were gone. My dress was hung in the bedroom closet, my undies arraigned neatly on the bed. My shoes were where I had left them on the floor.

I got dressed and went home. I lied sweetly to my husband, telling him the day was routine. I played with my son and tried to be normal, but I couldn't. It's been three weeks. I have not heard from Jack or Harry. I don't know if that's a relief or a disappointment. I hate to admit it, but it's both.

The phone rings from it's cradle on the wall. I answer with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation.