Dear Mom,

 

Oh, this is so awful! This reporter published this story in which he accused Bertie of all sorts of depravities! I can barely stand to mention them!

 

Bertie came over and tried to convince me they were all lies.

 

 

I wanted to believe him, I really did.

 

 

But there were so many girls, and the accusations were so detailed! And awful!

 

 

He said the reporter made it all up and probably paid these girls to say it happened.

 

 

Then he started getting angry with me! Can you believe it? He said if I was going to be his wife, I owed it to him to stand by him!

 

 

Well, you know me. I was having none of that. I told him to leave, and we'd talk again when I was ready.

 

 

So shortly after this, I got a call out of the blue from Ann. Remember Ann, my old college buddy who dropped out and moved out west to become a "Wellness Specialist?"

 

 

She works at some spa out there, while trying to save up money to open her own.

 

 

She made it sound like life was great for her, but she wanted to see how I was doing because, you guessed it, she heard about Bertie on the news.

 

 

I was never 100% comfortable around Ann. We were just so different. She was always more...forward with the boys, and therefore more popular than I was. Masseuse seems a natural profession for someone as handsy as her, to be honest.

 

 

Oh, heaven forgive me, I shouldn't assume such things, but every time I think of Ann, I imagine she's just using her massage gig as a front for dirtier things!

 

 

I mean, she did have a reputation in college.

 

 

And it never bothered her, either.

 

 

I remember she once told me, "Why should I care if people know I have sex? Sex is great. They should be having it, too!"

 

 

She was always pushing me to go out with boys and try to do...things with them.

 

 

But of course, I was too good of a girl for all that.

 

 

But Ann, she lived it up.

 

 

At least for the two years before she dropped out.

 

 

Anyway, she insisted I spend the weekend with her out in Oasis Springs, and she offered to foot the bill for my flight, and I was so mad at Bertie, I found a cat-sitter immediately, and went straight to the airport. First we went out for, can you believe this, morning wine!

 

 

I told myself it was technically afternoon in my normal time zone, so it was okay.

 

 

And I unloaded all my problems on her.

 

 

She was clear to me that none of this was my fault, if Bertie was some damn pervert, that was all on him.

 

 

When we finished our wine - she finished first, of course - she suggested we go get a massage. Of course, she'd do that!

 

 

So I found myself, not at the spa, but at some house out in the suburbs.

 

 

She explained, this was where her masseur lived. I told her, as long as it's safe and comfortable. You know I don't care for strangers touching me.

 

 

She said I didn't have to worry with guys like this. They were experts at touching.

 

 

It didn't take long for me to realize. This was erotic massage! Oh mom, I'm so sorry for bringing up such a horrible subject with you!

 

 

Ann was defiant. She said, I swear, "You are engaged to a pervert. You need to let off some steam. The best way to do that is with some Vitamin D."

 

 

This guy, Diego was his name, just stood there impatiently while I solved that little euphemism.

 

 

I actually did talk with Diego for a while, while Ann was getting ready for her turn, and he was a nice kid.

 

 

But then when Ann, half-naked, climbed on his table, and he started groping her, I knew that there was no way there could ever be my turn. I couldn't do it.

 

 

So I slipped out of there while she couldn't stop me, and left her to her own pleasures.

 

 

The rest of the weekend was awkward, but I flew back east as soon as I could, and instead of Vitamin D, I comforted myself with a nice meal, while thinking about what I should do about Bertie.

 

 

What do you think, Mom?

 

 

Love,

 

Kayla