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THE GAME

Fiona’s sauna was in what she liked to call the "Rose Retreat," her own slice of luxury in the spa wing. She’d gone all out on it, and it showed.

She Fiona-erd it, if you know what I mean.

Soft pink LED lights outlined the entrance. A large wooden door, polished and solid, was adorned with her initials in glittering silver—because of course, she’d want it personalized. I swung it open, stepping onto a velvet carpet that covered the floor inside.

The scent hit me immediately—a blend of rose petals and a hint of lemon from her oil diffuser. Her personalized playlist hummed softly in the background. Pink Himalayan salt stones were scattered in neat rows, adding a touch of earthy elegance, while a state-of-the-art sound system played ambient tunes.

"All this while we’re out there waiting for you?" I called out, smirking.