My CEO husband has an eight-pack and is incredibly vigorous at night.
But he never touches me except for the seven days of my ovulation period each month.
When passion runs high, I instinctively want to kiss him, but he always dodges because of my heart condition.
He's extremely potent in that department, and finally unable to hold back, he proposed giving me his heart.
He would then get a mechanical heart installed that could never feel emotion again.
All because I'm his hard-won prize, the unattainable beauty he pursued 100 times before winning me over.
On the day of the surgery, I gave him 100 forgiveness cards.
We agreed that whenever he made me angry, he could use one for a chance at forgiveness.
In three years of marriage, he'd use up a forgiveness card every time he went out with his pure love.
When he got to the 97th forgiveness card, my husband suddenly realized I had changed.
I no longer cried or begged him to stay.
Only when that girl outside, emboldened by his doting, secretly slipped her prenatal checkup results into his suit jacket did I quietly ask him:
"If you go to be with her, can I use a forgiveness card?"
The man froze for a moment, his heart softening unusually:
"Sure, we've only used about sixty anyway. Use it if you want."I hummed in acknowledgment, letting him go.
Little did he know, this was the 97th forgiveness card he had used.
And he only had three chances left for me to forgive him again.