Trixie leaned back against the headboard of the bed. Her hands tangled the sheets and the tension registered on her face. She watched as her husband hovered over her.

"I'm afraid," she said to him.

"Of what?" asked her husband.

"I don't want it to hurt. Will it hurt?"

Her husband laughed. "Only if you keep changing your position."

Trixie clenched her teeth together. Once again, her impulsive behavior had landed her in an uncomfortable predicament. Trixie shifted her body on the bed in an attempt to get more comfortable.

"Psst. You're still moving. You keep breaking my concentration. Just hold still," the man ordered.

"Well, heaven forbid I should break your concentration. Hurry up and get this over with."

Her husband slid Trixie's jeans off and tossed them to the floor. Trixie's eyes darted around the room, taking in the gently billowing curtains and the sun shining brightly through them. She could hear the birds singing and hear her husband's even breathing. As her husband moved in closer, Trixie grimaced and held her breath.

"Seriously, Trix, you gotta relax. Try some slow exhalations or focus in on something in the room."

In an attempt to divert her attention, Trixie began counting backwards from 100. She had just reached number 95 when she was interrupted by a victorious shout.

"Woo-hoo! All done!"

"All done?? I didn't even feel anything." Trixie said.

"That's cuz I'm good, babe." He grinned at her as he held up a pair of tweezers, Gripped tightly in them was a quarter inch sliver of wood that had been pulled from Trixie's leg.

Trixie gave her husband a quick kiss and hopped up off the bed. She grabbed her jeans from the floor and quickly slid into them. Running out of the bedroom, Trixie paused at the door and called back over her shoulder,

"Last one to the stable has to make dinner."

"You're on!" replied her husband, "just don't try to jump over that pile of wood again."