For nearly a year, my husband had completely lost interest in romance.
No flowers.
No date nights.
Not even a goodnight kiss unless I reminded him.
At first, I blamed stress.
Then work.
Then age.
Eventually, I decided to ask my doctor.
He listened patiently before asking, “Have you ever considered Viagra?”
I laughed.
“My husband? Doctor, he won’t even take an aspirin when he has a splitting headache.”
The doctor smiled.
“Then make it easy. Crush a tablet into his coffee. He’ll never notice.”
I wasn’t entirely convinced, but after another month of watching him fall asleep halfway through every movie night, curiosity finally got the better of me.
A few days later, we stopped at Starbucks during our Saturday shopping trip.
While my husband stepped away to grab napkins, I quietly stirred the crushed tablet into his large black coffee.
He came back, thanked me, and took a long sip.
Nothing happened.
We chatted for a few minutes about groceries, weekend plans, and whether we needed birdseed for the backyard feeder.
Then, all at once, his eyes widened.
He stared at me as though he’d just seen me for the first time in twenty years.
Before I could ask what was wrong, he leaped to his feet.
His chair flew backward.
The table tipped over.
Coffee splashed everywhere.
Muffins rolled across the floor.
Customers gasped.
My husband wrapped me in the biggest embrace I’d had since our honeymoon and kissed me passionately right there in the middle of the café.
People froze.
One teenager dropped his phone.
A barista stood motionless, holding a pitcher of steamed milk.
Someone actually started clapping.
When my husband finally came to his senses, he looked around the silent coffee shop in horror.
“I… I’m so sorry!” he stammered.
The manager hurried over, trying not to laugh.
“Sir… Ma’am… I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you both to leave.”
We walked out carrying our shopping bags, trying our best to look dignified.
The moment the doors closed behind us, we burst into uncontrollable laughter.
The following Monday, I called my doctor.
“Doctor,” I sighed dramatically, “it was terrible.”
“What happened?” he asked.
“I did exactly what you told me. I crushed the pill, mixed it into his coffee, and within minutes he jumped up, swept everything off the table, grabbed me, and made passionate love to me right there!”
The doctor chuckled.
“Well… that doesn’t sound so bad.”
I sighed.
“Maybe not…”
“…but I’m never allowed back into Starbucks again!”
To this day, every time we drive past that Starbucks, my husband grins and asks, “Want to stop for coffee?”
I just shake my head and laugh.
“Only if we’re getting it to go.”
