I often wondered why my wife married me when she could have anyone she wanted. I admit to some serious feelings of inadequacy, especially when we go out. Every guy makes a play for her.
Candace is beautiful, elegant and sophisticated. She has exquisite style and taste, a wardrobe to die for and a fabulous collection of jewelry I assumed she inherited from her mother.
For our 5th anniversary we were dining out. While sipping champagne, this dashing British chap walks by and takes a double-take. “Candace! How are you? Call me!” he said, handing her his card.
“Who was that?” I asked. Flustered, she revealed a part of her life before she met me. She had briefly lived in London and worked for a London escort agency.
Those jewels aren’t your mother’s? “No” she replied, gently squeezing my hand.
I am a lucky man!