The Airbnb Had a Hot Tub and Thin Rules
Girls weekend except it wasn't. Two beds. Three women. One secret we don't mention when we book the annual cabin.
We said girls weekend. We meant escape.
Wine, hot tub, mountain air. By midnight Sarah admitted her marriage was a performance. Jen admitted a crush on me she called a joke until it wasn't.
Steam hides blush. Water hides shaking.
Nothing happened in front of the window. Everything happened under stars we refused to photograph.
Sunday we cleaned like criminals. Drove home separate. Group chat resumed normal.
Every year we book a cabin. Every year the hot tub gets quieter first.
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