Chapter 8: Doing Yoga

Words : 1758 Updated : Feb 11th, 2025

"Does Matthew know how to fix a water heater?" Mrs. Warth asked in surprise. "His previous job was installing water heaters at people's homes," Mr. Warth explained. "You used to do that?" Mrs. Warth asked me. Hearing her question, I quickly replied, "I did it for a while." I had never done this kind of work before, but since Mr. Warth said so, I had to play along, even though I had no idea how to fix a broken water heater. "See? I told you Matthew knows how," Mr. Warth said with a smile. "So when will you fix it?" Mrs. Warth asked. It was clear that she cared about getting the water heater fixed. I could tell she didn't want to use the bathroom outside. After all, I also used that bathroom, and it would be awkward if we ran into each other there. "In the afternoon. Matthew will drop me off at the company in the morning, and he'll be free later," Mr. Warth said. "Alright." Mrs. Warth nodded. The matter was settled. After breakfast, I drove Mr. Warth to the company. "Just drop me off and head straight back afterward," Mr. Warth said. "But didn't we agree on fixing it in the afternoon? Why am I going back so soon?" I asked in confusion. "My wife does yoga every morning, usually from 9 to 10 a.m. You'll see her in yoga pants." Mr. Warth grinned. I was at a loss for words. I didn't expect him to arrange something like this. I had never seen Mrs. Warth wearing yoga pants before. I could already imagine myself getting a nosebleed, but I didn't dare picture what she would look like while doing yoga. "Aren't you looking forward to it? Let me tell you, my wife is flexible. If you succeed, you can do it in all positions with her," Mr. Warth continued. "But Mr. Warth, I don't know how to fix a water heater. What if I can't fix it later?" I asked. I had no clue how to repair a water heater. If I failed, I would embarrass myself in front of Mrs. Warth. "The showerhead is clogged. Just replace it, and it will work. Don't tell me you can't even do that." Mr. Warth laughed. "Oh, alright." I nodded instinctively. "The replacement parts are in the trunk. If my wife asks, tell her I sent you back," Mr. Warth continued. "But wait, that doesn't make sense, Mr. Warth. I don't even know what's wrong with the water heater. If I suddenly replace the hose, will she find it suspicious?" I asked. Mrs. Warth was a meticulous person. If I did this, she would notice something was off. And if she asked about it, how would I explain? "Figure it out yourself. I don't have time to think about all this," Mr. Warth said, closing his eyes. I glanced at Mr. Warth through the rearview mirror, feeling uneasy. Half an hour later, we arrived at the company. Mr. Warth got out of the car and walked straight into the building. Once he was inside, I opened the trunk. There was a brand-new showerhead, a stainless-steel hose, and all the necessary tools. It was clear that Mr. Warth had planned this. I had only agreed to his plan the previous day, but the parts were already prepared beforehand. Mr. Warth wasn't an ordinary person. He seemed to know all along that I would agree. After closing the trunk, I got back into the car. I was about to drive away when I saw a white Mercedes entering the company parking lot. It was Madison. She owned the Mercedes, which looked brand new. With her salary, how could she afford a Mercedes? I remembered Madison mentioning to Mr. Warth that she liked Mercedes. At that time, Mr. Warth smiled without saying anything. I never thought he would buy her one so soon. She stepped out of the car, looking seductive. She was carrying a brand-new designer bag she had just bought yesterday. She walked into the company confidently. Was making money this easy? Did being pretty make someone a winner in life? Watching Madison's smug expression, I drove off. A Mercedes costs at least 30,000 dollars. With my current salary, I couldn't afford it. I earned 1000 dollars a month, 12,000 dollars a year. Earning 12,000 and saving 12,000 were two different things. Even if I lived frugally, I could only save about 4,000 dollars a year. It would take me seven years to afford a Mercedes. How many seven-year periods does a person have in their life? Just this one car was already someone's life-long dream. No wonder Madison clung to Mr. Warth. By being with him, she could skip decades of struggle. First, a car, and probably a house next. She was on her way to becoming a rich woman. No wonder she acted so arrogant at the office. She had the right to show off. As I drove to Mr. Warth's house, I couldn't help but feel bad for Mrs. Warth. That money was supposed to be hers, but now it was spent on another woman. When I arrived, I exited the car and immediately saw Mrs. Warth. "Matthew, why are you back so soon?" she called from the balcony, having heard the sound of my car. She was doing yoga at home. She wore a pink sports bra and white yoga pants. The sight almost made me freeze on the spot. If I were any closer, I would have stared without restraint. "Mr. Warth said there wasn't much to do this morning, so he sent me back to fix the water heater," I replied. "Come on up." she nodded. I walked into the living room and soon arrived at the master bedroom. The last time I was in was when Mr. Warth got drunk, and I carried him back. I remembered how she had wiped my sweat and thanked me that night. I noticed a yoga mat on the floor. Mrs. Warth's face was flushed, and beads of sweat were on her temples. Her tight yoga pants highlighted her stunning figure. Her round, perky hips caught my attention. Her pink sports bra had some sweat stains, showing she had been working out intensely. Her ample chest was simply astonishing. "Matthew, come take a look," she said, leading me into the bathroom. I followed behind her, watching her slender waist. If I could wrap my arms around her from behind, how wonderful would that be? In the bathroom, I immediately spotted the shower. "The showerhead isn't working. Can you check it?" she said, crossing her arms. "Okay," I replied, stepping into the shower area. Was this where she usually showered? My breathing grew heavier. This was a place I never would have entered if Mr. Warth hadn't given me the opportunity. "This is the switch. No matter how much I turn it, it doesn't work," she said. I turned the faucet and examined the showerhead. "Well?" she asked. The air felt thick with tension. We were standing so close that I could smell the sweat on her body. Her scent filled my mind, making me dizzy. Without thinking, I glanced at the top of her thighs, and my heart suddenly skipped a beat.

Chapter 8: Doing Yoga

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