“No one will know,”
he says, as he takes my hand and leads me inside.
But.
I’ll know.
You’ll know.
I’m not sure I can do
this.
I’m not sure I can
escape from this.
I shouldn’t have
drank as much as quickly.
But I never
anticipated the escalation.
One moment, talking
about how your wife had saved you.
The next, your hands
making their way up my thigh.
“They’re all busy.
It’s really okay,”
he says, as he bends
me over, tugging the hair at the nape of my neck.
I know it’s wrong.
But in this moment, it is everything I want.
He turns around, allowing me to climb on top.
I take in the depth
of ravenousness in his eyes, the way his fingers glide down my torso, the
potency of even his slightest movements.
And I let him slip.
What am I doing?
I can’t do this to
her.
“Maybe we should get
back,”
I say.
“To be continued,”
he says.
But I’m not so sure I
can do that.
I’m not even sure I’ll
be able to look at myself tomorrow.
