Natasha Knows Scents Facebook ad: “Secret to Unstoppable Attraction”

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My husband's mistress sat in the front pew at his funeral. By the repast, I was asking her for advice. Let me explain. I know how this sounds. A widow, 3 hours after burying her husband of 26 years, standing in the church kitchen with the woman he was sleeping with, asking what she had on. Stay with me. Because what she told me in that kitchen changed my whole life, and it had nothing to do with him. My name is Charlene. I'm 54. I'm a dental office manager in Jackson, Mississippi. I've been married to Curtis Wade since I was 28. Curtis died on a Tuesday in March. Heart attack. On the 9th hole. He loved that golf course more than he loved most people. I planned the whole funeral myself. The casket — mahogany, $7,400. The flowers — white lilies and roses, $1,900. The program with his picture from our 20th anniversary cruise. The repast menu. Fried chicken, greens, mac and cheese, 6 pound cakes from the Ladies' Auxiliary. I sat in the front pew in black, with my 2 sons on either side of me, and I thought I knew exactly who Curtis was. Then she walked in. • • • She came in late. During the first hymn. She was maybe 45. Tall. Navy dress, not black — like she knew she wasn't supposed to wear black. Hair pulled back. No hat. Not crying. She walked all the way down the center aisle, past 300 people, and sat down in the front pew. Our pew. 4 seats down from my youngest son. My sister leaned over and whispered, "Who is THAT?" I didn't know. Then the smell hit me. I'd spent $1,900 on lilies and roses. That whole church smelled like a florist's cooler. And over all of it, from 4 seats away, I smelled her. Jasmine. Something bright and peppery on top. And underneath, warm. Like skin. Like somebody you'd want to stand close to. I'd smelled it before. On Curtis's golf jacket. For 2 years. I'd asked him about it once. He said it was the clubhouse soap. • • • Here's what I learned in the next 90 minutes, in a church, burying my husband. One. Her name was Valerie. My cousin knew her from the bank. Two. She'd been with Curtis for 4 years. Not 2. 4. I found out at the graveside, from his best friend, who couldn't look me in the eye. Three. Every person in that church who knew was watching me to see what I'd do. I didn't do anything. I sat there. I sang "I'll Fly Away." I let the pastor tell 300 people what a faithful man Curtis was. And the whole time, from 4 seats down, I could smell her. Through the lilies. Through the eulogy. Through 3 hymns and a solo. I was wearing perfume too. A bottle Curtis bought me for Christmas. $180. I'd sprayed it at 8am getting dressed. By the eulogy, I couldn't find it on my own wrist. She'd been in that church 90 minutes. I'd been wearing mine 4 hours. And she was the one everybody could smell. • • • At the repast, I went to the kitchen to get away from everybody. She was in there. Alone. Wrapping a plate. My sister came in behind me and said, "Charlene, let me handle this," and I said, "No. Close the door." So it was just me and Valerie and 6 pound cakes. "Why are you here?" She put the foil down. "Because I loved him. And I know that's the worst thing I could say to you today, and I'm saying it anyway because I'm done lying for him." I didn't say anything. "Mrs. Wade. I need you to hear one thing from me, and then I'll leave and you'll never see me again. He didn't come to me because of anything you did. Or didn't do. Or stopped doing. He did that. That's his. 4 years of lies, and every single one of them was his." "You were part of it." "I was. My part is mine. I'll carry it. But don't you go home tonight and lie in that bed and ask what was wrong with you. Nothing was wrong with you. He was just a man who wanted 2 of everything." I believed her. I don't know why. Maybe because nobody else in that building had told me one true thing all day. And then I asked her the question I'd been carrying for 2 years. The one that had nothing to do with Curtis. "What are you wearing?" She looked at me for a long time. Then she laughed. Not mean. Tired. Sad. "Of all the things you could ask me." "I've smelled it on his jacket for 2 years. I just buried him under $1,900 in flowers and I could still smell you over all of it. I've been spraying $180 bottles every morning and I'm gone by noon. So yes. Of all the things. What are you wearing?" She opened her purse and put a little brown bottle on the counter, between us, next to the pound cake. "It's an oil," she said. "Keep it." I stood in my own church kitchen, 3 hours after burying my husband, holding the thing his mistress wore. 10 seconds I stood there. Then I put it in my purse. • • • She told me the rest standing by the back door, keys in her hand. "That $180 bottle he bought you? Turn it over. First ingredient's alcohol. 60, 70, 80 percent of it. It makes a big cloud at the counter for 2 minutes. That's how they sell it. Then it evaporates. That's all alcohol does. And it takes everything with it on the way out." "I thought it was my skin." "It is your skin. And it isn't. After 40, our skin makes less oil. Every year, less. So once the alcohol's gone, a spray's got nothing to hold onto. On a 25-year-old there's oil there to catch it. On us it just slides off. They sell you a bottle built for a girl and let you think you're the problem." "And this?" "No alcohol. It's oil. It holds. Your body heat opens it up instead of burning it off. You put it on in the morning and it's deeper at night." "How much?" She opened the door. "$29, Mrs. Wade. And they give you 2." Then she left. $29. I had just paid $7,400 for a box to put my husband in, and his mistress had been smelling better than me for 4 years on $29. • • • I didn't wear it for a week. I couldn't. It felt like wearing her. Then I went to the reading of the will. • • • I got dressed that morning and stood in front of my bathroom mirror for 10 minutes holding that bottle. And I thought: she took 4 years from me. Curtis took 26. This, I'm taking back. 3 drops. Wrist. Neck. Behind my ear. First it was bright. Pink pepper and blackcurrant, sharp, like waking up. Then the jasmine. Soft. Like a porch in April. • • • The estate lawyer was a young man. 34, maybe. Clean-cut. Very professional. He had a folder 2 inches thick. I sat down across from him. He opened the folder. He lost his place. He started over. "The Last Will and Testament of Curtis Raymond Wade—" He lost his place again. Looked up at me. Looked back down. The third time, he said, "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Wade, I don't know what's wrong with me today," and his assistant had to come in and point at the paragraph. My son Darnell looked at me across the table like, Mama? I didn't say a word. Curtis left me the house, the life insurance and the golf clubs. I sold the golf clubs that afternoon. • • • Day 4. My dentist — I work for him, 11 years — came out of exam room 2, stopped at my desk and said, "Charlene, did you do something different?" Week 2. My sister hugged me at Sunday dinner, held on, and said, "Girl. What is that? You smell like you got your life back." Week 3. I went to the cemetery to put flowers on Curtis's grave. I don't know why. Habit. 26 years. A man was there at the next plot. 60-something. Visiting his wife. We nodded at each other the way people do in cemeteries. When I walked past him back to my car, he said: "Ma'am. Forgive me. I've been coming here every Sunday for 3 years. I've never smelled anything out here but cut grass. What is that you're wearing?" A stranger. At a cemetery. Over my husband's grave. I laughed so hard I had to sit down in my car. By 9 that night, the rose and the peony had gone warm, and there was amber underneath everything. I'd put it on at 7. It was deeper at night than in the morning. 14 hours, and stronger. That has never happened to me. Not once in 54 years. • • • Here's what I've figured out. There are 2 ways this goes for you. You can do what I did for 26 years. Buy the bottle he picks. Spray it at 8. Lose it by noon. Assume it's you. Assume that's what 50 smells like. And when somebody walks into a room and outshines you, blame her. Or you can find out it was never you. It was the bottle. I hated Valerie for about a week. Then I realized she gave me the only honest thing anybody gave me that year. GODA says it's pheromone-infused. I'm not going to tell you it makes anybody love you. It didn't make Curtis faithful and it didn't make Valerie a home-wrecker. People did that. Maybe it's the pheromones. Maybe it's that I stopped walking around like a woman waiting to find out what she did wrong. • • • My sister Gwen, 58: "I saw the whole thing in that kitchen. Next week I ordered 2. The man at the hardware store asked me what it was. The HARDWARE store." Patrice, 44, hygienist at my office: "I'm in patients' faces all day with a mask on. A patient asked me through the mask. Through the MASK." My mother-in-law, 81 (yes, Curtis's mother): "Charlene sent me one. My pharmacist leaned over the counter. I told him I'm a widow, not a dead woman." • • • GODA For Her. Pheromone-infused oil. Jasmine, blackcurrant, pink pepper → peony, rose → amber. 2–3 drops. 12 hours. Zero alcohol. 4,900 reviews. 4.8★. $29. Buy one, get one. One-time purchase. No subscription. Real refund. I ordered 2. One for me. The other one I left on Curtis's headstone. He always did like 2 of everything. P.S. Yes, I know about the headstone. My sister says it's petty. My sister is wearing hers right now. P.S.S. It's an oil, but it soaks in in about a minute. Skin, not fabric. I wore it with my good black silk and there's not a mark on it. P.S.S.S. It doesn't throw a cloud across a room. It sits close. The people near you know. Apparently through $1,900 of lilies. P.S.S.S.S. If it smells wrong on you, 30 days, send it back. No monthly charges. I've had enough surprises. P.S.S.S.S.S. Valerie, if you're reading this: thank you. Don't come to the next funeral.

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goda.co

Secret to Unstoppable Attraction 🤫

Discover "Goda For Her," a captivating pheromone fragrance designed to enhance attraction. This 100% vegan, cruelty-free scent blends seamlessly with your natural aroma, ensuring long-lasting wear. Backed by a 30-day money-back guarantee, it's a safe and effective choice for boosting confidence and....