Their marriage is dead in the water. They are like two roommates sharing a bed, sticking to their own side with their backs to each other and a chasm in the middle. Abby knows what they need. They need to mix it up. Crack open this marriage and date other people. Only for a little while. It’s worked before.
That was before we were married, Frank protests, but Abby knows this is what they need, and they’ve always found their way back to each other. This isn’t the first rut they’ve fallen into, and Abby still remembers how hard Frank fucked her after she slept with her dance instructor. She wants that again.
Besides, there’s a cute dad at Tanner’s preschool who’s been lingering to chat Abby up, with brown eyes and killer biceps and Abby may have already been slipping off her ring before picking up the kids (and it’s not like Frank ever picks them up.) Plus things have been so hard lately, between the rehab and the stress and the bills, and Abby deserves a break, doesn’t she?
Fine, Frank grunts, but then proceeds to do absolutely nothing to get a date for himself, which is not how this is supposed to work. It’s uneven if she’s the only one fucking around. The arrangement won’t hold. They need to be in this together.
It’s fine Abby, Frank insists, because of course he’s gonna let her be the bad guy. Get it out of your system.
This imbalance must be rectified, and Abby finds her answer when she meets Mel King, the cute, nerdy resident who follows her oblivious husband around with hearts in her eyes. She’s perfect: understatedly hot enough that Frank will like fucking her, but too weird and awkward to be an actual threat.
No. No fucking way, says Frank, because of course he’s resistant to anything Abby suggests.
Go on one date, Abby pleads. Come on, you guys are already friends. It’ll be fine. You’ll have fun.
And that’s how Abby loses her husband.
