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My husband, Callum Whitaker lost a bet to his new "adopted sister", Erica Carson. The punishment: stay single for a month. And so, he tossed a divorce agreement to me. "Sign it. It's just for one month. Don't make a fuss—have some game spirit." I said nothing and quietly signed it. Not long after, he lost another bet. This time, he said, "I have to sleep in the same bed with her. We'll Just talk under the covers. Don't overthink it." As he spoke, a small box of condoms slipped from his pocket. He cleared his throat, and muttered something about urgent company matters, rushing straight to a hotel. Once he was gone, I lowered my head. There was a message on my phone. [I'm leaving the country in a week. Come with me?] I replied: [Okay.]