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“It was a mistake,” I said, and pushed myself up off the table. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
She didn’t argue. That was the worst part. She just stepped back, picked up the towel and handed it to me without meeting my eyes.
“Fine,” she said. “Okay.”
I dressed with my back to her, fumbling my shirt buttons, my cock still half hard and aching against my jeans. The room smelled of oil and something I’d just thrown away. I could feel her watching me in the mirror.
“For the record,” she said, as I reached for the door. Her voice was very calm, very flat. “I meant it at the wedding. I’ve meant it every day since. And you just told me it was a mistake.”
“Claire…”
“No. You had your chance. Twice now.” She folded her arms. “Tell Helen I said hi.”
I walked out through the reception, past the bamboo and the little bowl of mints, and sat in my car in the car park for ten minutes with my hands on the wheel.
My back felt great. Everything else felt terrible.
I drove home. Helen was on the sofa with her laptop. She asked how the massage was. I said fine. She didn’t look up.
That night I lay awake, cock throbbing under the duvet, thinking about Claire’s hands on my arse and the look on her face when I walked out.
I’d blown it. Completely.
Ending 3 of 16: The Shutdown. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.