THE CHOICE

THREE

JACK HAD JUST PULLED HIS car in the garage when a notification beeped on his phone that his food had arrived. He quickly gathered his briefcase and laptop, threw it on the kitchen counter, then made his way to the front door. The delivery guy had already given the doorbell a ring and was waiting patiently. Jack grabbed his dinner, thanked and tipped the driver, then walked into the living room to find Connor and Samantha lounging on the couch. The little one had passed out next to her.

"Hey, you can head out whenever you're ready," Jack said.

Samantha looked up at him and smiled. She was a gorgeous girl in her early twenties with bouncing red locks and a perfect body to match. Had Jack been one of those husbands, he would've put on the charm and whisked Samantha away to the bedroom while Connor napped on the couch and his wife was still forty minutes from being home. And though Jack would be lying if he said the thought had never entered his mind, that was a line he wouldn't cross. It was like his dad had always told him, "Son, you can look, you just can't touch."

"How much do I owe you for tonight?" he asked.

"Forty," she replied.

Jack smiled, "You want cash or...?"

"You can just Cash App it to me," Samantha said, grabbing her coat off the rack in the foyer and heading for the front door.

Jack opened the door for her and told her to be careful driving home. He glanced in on Connor one more time to make sure he was still asleep then went to the kitchen for his dinner. He pulled the plastic lids off the containers and decided to microwave his ribs and potatoes back to nice and steamy. As the food was reheating, Jack opened his laptop and scrolled through the work emails he'd received since he left the office.

The microwave beeped and shut off and Jack closed his laptop. He had just sat down at the table with his dinner and a cold glass of iced tea when he heard the garage door opening. Madison had made it home earlier than he anticipated. He smiled. He'd missed her today, as he did most every day he was at work. It seemed he was always at work.

He took a bite of his ribs and kept his eyes on the door that led from the garage to the kitchen. In just a few moments, his beautiful bride would walk in, still in her skin-tight yoga pants. They'd talk and share his ribs, they'd put Connor to bed, get showers, and then he could have her as many times as he wanted.