CHATBOT: Chapter 7 - The Naked Ambush Charlie never thought he could be simultaneously thrilled and horrified at the prospect of coming home earlier than expected. His three weeks away on a grueling business trip had slumped his shoulders and drained the light from his eyes, but the thought of Mary, his beloved wife, was the North Star guiding him through the dark nights of budget meetings and lukewarm hotel dinners. He had imagined the sweet reunion a hundred times over: her surprise, the flavorful dance of a cherished red wine on their tongues, the tender exchange of love whispered between shared bites of Swiss chocolate. He even planned an extra element of hilarity--he would enter the living room completely in the raw, the ultimate surprise for his wife, who always praised the benefits of being comfortable in one's own skin. The fact that his car rolled into the garage with the stealth of a cat burglar only heightened his anticipation. He parked, wriggled out of his business attire (suit, tie, and all), and left them in a neglected pile on the passenger seat. His watch hit 7:30 PM, precisely the time he predicted Mary would be on the couch, curled up with a book or binging the latest period drama series. He grabbed the wine and chocolates, now accessories to his nudity, and made his audacious approach. Charlie opened the interior door with a flourish, ready to sweep his wife off her feet--only to be met with a sight that would have sent a lesser man running for the hills. The living room--a sacred space usually reserved for family movie nights and quiet evenings by the fireplace--had morphed into a kaleidoscope of satin and lace. Garments of scarcely-there fabric clung to the bodies of the most stunning assembly of women Charlie had ever seen. Mary's coworkers, the toned and statuesque figures from her Pilates class, her college friends who looked just as lively and vivacious as the day they graduated, the sisters who could put beauty pageants to shame, and cousins with charm and wit as sharp as their heels--were all there, lounging on his furniture, sipping on cocktails, and laughing uproariously. As seven pairs of wide eyes snapped towards Charlie, the vast splotches of color--pinks, reds, blacks, and purples--melded into one, and his mind searched frantically for a refuge, a hiding spot, anything. But it was too late. A chorus of gasps, followed by the thunderous roar of laughter, echoed through what had become an arena of embarrassment. "Surprise!" squeaked ...