My mother-in-law put oil on my breasts and told me they were beautiful, and my husband had never seen them.
That was the whole problem.
The spa was her wedding gift. Private room. Warm light. Two tables. Elias had kissed my cheek at the airport three days after the courthouse and promised he would be gentle when he got back from Frankfurt. He had not touched me before the flight. He had not touched me after the vows. I was twenty-one and still a virgin in a marriage that looked finished on paper.
Diana Corey did not look like a mother-in-law in a robe. She looked like the reason I had said yes too fast to a son who was kind. Dark hair. Calm mouth. Hands that knew how to work.
“Lie on your front first,” she said. “I’ll do your shoulders. You carry the wedding in them.”
I laughed becaus
