Chapter 6: Midnight Confessions

I lay across the guest bed, insomnia gnawing at me as the ceiling fan spun lazily. My mind replayed every moment with Nathan—how we’d met again at that foundation gala, the first night he pulled me into a coat closet, how he’d chased me for months, how I’d finally caved.

He was the one who broke up with me—calm, controlled, on an ordinary snowy Tuesday. He made breakfast, then told me it was over, that he was 'returning my freedom.' I told myself I didn’t care. But every time I saw a tall guy with dark hair in a crowd, my heart would stutter, just in case.

I tried to drown him out with parties, loud music, endless nights, but nothing worked. Seeing him again—with those lost, open eyes—made me realize how much I missed him. I’d wanted to talk, to fix things, to maybe win him back.

But he’d reset—wiped the slate clean, erased every memory of us. He got the marriage license but wouldn’t let me touch him. Called me a 'bad thing.'

Damn it. I kicked at the sheets, wishing I’d dragged him into bed and shown him exactly what he was missing. The more I thought, the more frustrated I got.

Just then, the door creaked. Quiet footsteps padded across the carpet. Nathan’s scent—pine and winter air—washed over me. He slipped into the room, a tall shadow by my bed.

'...What are you doing?' I asked, voice rough.

Nathan slid his hand under the covers, found mine, and pressed it against the heat of his body. He was hard, trembling, face burning.

His breath shuddered against my cheek. 'Wife, please… I can’t do this alone.'

My heart stuttered. Neither could I.