A wife was in

A wife was in bed with her lover when she suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of her husband’s key turning in the front door. Panic struck her for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. She whispered urgently to her companion, “Stay where you are and don’t make a sound. He’s so drunk, he won’t even notice you’re here.” The words came out quickly, but she hoped they’d be enough to keep the situation under control.

Her lover, nervous but trusting her judgment, froze and lay still beneath the covers. The wife tried to remain calm as the sound of her husband stumbling into the house grew louder. She could hear his unsteady footsteps as he made his way down the hallway toward their bedroom. Her heart raced with every step he took.

As the door to the bedroom creaked open, the husband lurched into the room, barely able to keep his balance. He muttered something under his breath, clearly intoxicated, and flopped down on the bed next to his wife. He didn’t seem to notice anything unusual, and the wife sighed in relief, grateful that her plan had worked so far. She didn’t want to think about the consequences if he discovered her affair.

The husband snuggled under the covers, his breathing heavy from the alcohol. For a moment, everything seemed to be fine, but then, just as the wife began to think they might actually get away with it, the husband’s eyes widened in confusion. He squinted at the foot of the bed, then turned toward his wife with a puzzled expression.

He mumbled groggily, “Hey, wait a minute. There are six feet in this bed. There should only be four. What’s going on here?”

The wife, startled but quick to think on her feet, stammered, “Oh, you’re imagining things. You’ve had way too much to drink. You probably miscounted.” She offered a reassuring smile, hoping he wouldn’t press further. “Here’s what you should do,” she continued, her voice calm, “Get up, go over to the foot of the bed, and count again. You’ll see better from over there.”

The husband, still a bit disoriented, slowly pulled himself out of the bed, clutching the edge of the mattress for support. He squinted at the foot of the bed where, to his surprise, there were indeed six feet sticking out from under the covers. He muttered under his breath, “One, two, three, four…” He slowly counted, his finger tracing along the feet one by one. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re right. There are only four feet.”

The wife nodded, suppressing a smirk of relief. She was almost certain he wasn’t entirely convinced, but she was desperate for him to accept the explanation. Her pulse slowed as she watched him stumble back toward the bed, his mind clearly still in a fog from the alcohol.

He climbed back into bed, mumbling to himself as he did so. “Must’ve been seeing things,” he muttered, more to himself than to his wife. “Too much to drink, I guess.”

“Exactly,” the wife agreed, offering a soft, reassuring chuckle. “You always do this when you drink too much. Next time, maybe just stick to one drink, huh?”

The husband let out a tired grunt and nodded in agreement, his eyelids already heavy with sleep. As he drifted off, the wife lay there, trying to relax her tense muscles. The situation had been touch-and-go for a moment, but she had managed to deflect his suspicion for now.

As she lay in the dark, she couldn’t help but smile to herself. It had been a close call, but in the end, it worked out. The wife knew that tomorrow morning, when her husband woke up with a hangover, he’d have no memory of the bizarre encounter. And hopefully, he wouldn’t have any more questions about the strange situation he’d stumbled upon in their bed.

For now, though, she could breathe a sigh of relief. It was just another night of playing the game — a game she had gotten very good at.