Scott grasped the top of his doorframe, hoisting himself up and down, determined to work up a sweat. He counted steadily to forty before letting go and falling to the floor for a round of push-ups. With each set of twenty, he brought his knees to his elbows, pushing his limits as he sweated it out. This new fitness routine had taken root ever since Sylvia had called him a man-child in front of those women. That moment ignited a fire within him, sparking a quest for muscle and a sharper image.

Exercise had never been his forte; he'd always prided himself on his careful diet. Yet, there he was, pumping iron and chasing the remnants of his dignity. Why was he pouring his energy into this for a woman who wouldn't know a real man if he were presented to her on a silver platter? But the more he mulled it over, the more he could see the fruits of his labour. Just last night, he caught Sylvia stealing glances at him, her eyes glazing with appreciation as she took in his newfound physique. A surge of pride filled him; maybe this effort wasn't in vain after all.

"Good," he thought with a sly smirk creeping onto his lips, "let her watch and wish she could feel these muscles up close while keeping her distance."

Meanwhile, at Ben's house, he sat deep in concentration in his study, poring through case files that needed his attention. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn't notice Shelley standing quietly by the door, admiring him. It wasn't until he felt her warm hands encircle his shoulders in a gentle back hug that he broke his focus. Turning his head, he flashed her a smile, tracing his fingers along her arm.

"Hey! Everything alright? Need help with something?" he asked, shifting his full attention to her.

Shelley shook her head, a bright smile spreading across her face. "No, I just needed to find my husband and do this," she replied playfully.

Ben kissed her hand softly, feeling a twinge of guilt for leaving her alone in the living room. "I'm sorry for abandoning you to all this paperwork," he said, gesturing to the scattered files.

"It's alright," she said, her eyes sparkling. "I actually enjoy watching you work. So go ahead, don't let me distract you."

He locked eyes with her, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. "Are you sure?"

She nodded emphatically, her presence a comforting mix of warmth and support as she continued to embrace him from behind, her big belly gently pressing against his back. In that quiet moment, he felt both grounded and inspired, ready to tackle the tasks ahead.

Just as Ben's focus was zooming in on his work, he felt his wife's palm running down his chest. He started tensing up. He pretended it had no effect on him. Then he watches her hand slide down below, disappearing into his trousers. It was when she felt her hand around his manhood that he jerked up straight. He let out a moan when her hand started working in his trousers. He felt all kinds of sensations while he tried to keep himself from pulling his pregnant wife onto his lap and made his way with her.

Shelley smirked in delight when she saw the deep veins appear on her husband's neck. She knew she had him where she wanted. Lately, she has noticed his need to make love to her, but due to her pregnant state, he has relented. Sometimes she hears him in the shower pleasuring himself all because he didn't want to do something to her that would harm the baby. Now that she knew it, she had to do something to meet his needs. After all, Ben had always put her needs above anything else. She works her hand faster, causing him to curse. Shelley whispered seductively in his ear. "Do you want more?"

He groans, "You have no idea, Mrs. Adams." She chuckles at his words.

"You have no fucking idea what I want to do to you right now, no idea," he says.

"Tell me then, my love." She whispers, realising her own needs as well.

"I would have loved to pull you in front of me and bend you over my desk with your legs apart. I would slowly trace my hand along your inner thighs as I make my way to your sweet spot and stroke you there just to see your eyes roll back into your skull as you moan my name out loud. I will then drop your pants and make love to you right at this spot with you begging for more. Ben's moan grew louder as she increased the speed of her hand on his manhood.

"Fuck! When will you be due for this baby to come out?"

Shelley laughed at her husband's outburst. "I have three months more to go."

"Fuck! I'm screwed," he says.

***

At MaxMart supermarket, the fluorescent lights hummed softly above as Sylvia maneuvered her cart through the bustling aisles, scanning the shelves for all the essentials on her list. As she rounded the corner, her eyes fell upon a familiar figure: a white man in black jeans and a navy blue t-shirt was bent over an item, intently reading its label. Her heart quickened—Scott.

That last encounter with him here played in her mind like a looping movie reel, leaving her anxious. The memory of him pinning her against the wall had replayed in her mind countless times, each iteration filled with confusion and a flutter of something unnameable. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the lingering tension.

Quickly, she nudged her cart back, hoping to blend into the shelves and watch him from a distance. "Looks like he's shopping here too," she muttered under her breath, half-amused, half-annoyed.

Oblivious to her presence, Scott was preoccupied with his shopping list. After a workout at home, his mother had sent him on a mission to gather some ingredients they desperately needed. Clutching the list, he wandered through the supermarket, frustration creeping in as he struggled to locate the items.

From her concealed spot, Sylvia couldn't help but notice Scott's confusion. Her instincts urged her to step in and offer assistance, but doubt gnawed at her. Would he even welcome her help after their last awkward meeting? Just then, she noticed a store clerk approach, but even he seemed perplexed, leaving Scott looking more lost than ever. "Why are men so hopeless in situations like this?" she thought, her resolve strengthening as she approached them.

Clearing her throat, she chimed in with a friendly tone, "It seems you gentlemen could use a hand. Need any help? I'd be glad to assist."

Scott turned to her, surprise etched on his face. "Sylvia, what are you doing here?" he asked, immediately chastising himself for the question. Naturally, she was here to shop—it was a supermarket after all. Before he could retract his question, she opened her mouth to respond.

"Of course, you're here to shop," he interrupted, waving away his initial awkwardness. "Forget that question! Anyway, since you're here, I could use a little help. I'm trying to find some items on my list, but the clerk doesn't seem to know them."

Sylvia glanced at the list he held—spices listed in English: cloves, aniseed, paprika, and black pepper. "Oh, I see! Here in Ghana, some of these have different names: they go by Pepre, nkitinkiti, red pepper, and Esoro Wisa. No wonder the clerk was confused—he's a local."

Scott's face lit up with realisation. "Really?"

Come on then; I know where they are!" With renewed determination, he followed her to the spice aisle. As they reached the shelf, their hands brushed together while reaching for the same item, and an unexpected spark passed between them. Scott retracts his hand first, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. "Sorry!"

"Not at all! It's your list, after all," Sylvia replied, a grin spreading across her face. Their playful banter lightened the air between them, and as Scott began to gather the spices, they fell into a comfortable rhythm, trading jokes and laughter.

The two continued shopping side by side, and once they reached the checkout, Sylvia tossed him a teasing remark, "Remind me never to ask you to do the shopping!"

Their laughter echoed through the aisles, a moment of levity amidst the mundane task of grocery shopping, yet it felt as though something deeper was brewing beneath the surface.