Listening

You heard your wife's voice, walked into the living room, found her sitting on the couch. You thought for a moment she was talking to you, but you heard a man's voice, realized she was on her phone with her boyfriend.

"I know, I miss you, too, baby," she said, "I can't wait for next weekend."

You swallowed, were about to walk quietly out of the room, but she looked up, saw you. "Sorry," you mouthed, intending to give her some privacy with him.

You heard her fingers snap several times. You looked at her, she narrowed her eyes, kicked her shoes off, pointed. You swallowed, froze. You knew what she wanted but giving her a foot massage while she talked to her boyfriend was humiliating. 

"I might have you spend the night," he said.

She looked at you, still frozen, saw you face. "I'd love to," she said. She narrowed her eyes again, snapped once more, pointed to her feet.

You knelt down, took her nylon covered foot in your hands, massaged, kissed, touched, and worshipped her feet while she flirted with her boyfriend. It wasn't like she was overtly ignoring you, only that she was focusing on him. So you focused on her feet, only realized at some point later she'd gotten off the phone.

"I'm spending the night next week," she said.

"I...I heard," you said.

"He likes waking up together."

"I...I imagine," you said.

"You're such a good boy," she smiled, enjoying your touch.

"I love you," you blurted out.

"I love you, too," she smiled.