My reborn husband fell in love with a pole dancer. After I died, he regretted it crazy.

I was born with a fiery passion, sometimes needing to release it three times a day.

But our marriage was a business arrangement.

So even when it came to *satisfying* me, Dax would only symbolically use toys. His movements were precise, devoid of warmth, never a personal touch.

Every time we finished, he'd politely ask, "Are you done?"

As if it were a chore completely unrelated to him.

But after my unexpected death, I saw this man I’d always shunned like the plague go utterly insane for me.