Secret Night with Another Barista

I can barely bring myself to write this down, let alone think about it without feeling sick. It happened last month when I was working late at the coffee shop and he walked in. His name is Mike, and we've always had a friendly vibe, but nothing more than that. We were closing up and helping each other with tasks, but then we ended up talking longer than usual because we both loved to talk about our lives away from work too much. I should have known something was off when he offered to walk me home after my shift, saying his car was nearby. I agreed, feeling a bit lonely at the time. We talked and laughed on the way, but once we got to my place, things took an unexpected turn. He leaned in, and before I knew it, we were kissing. It felt like this forbidden thrill that I couldn't resist, even though deep down I know I shouldn't be doing this with someone who's not my husband. It was intense from the start. We went inside my apartment when no one else was home, locked the door behind us. The moment our hands started exploring each other’s bodies, it felt wrong but oh so good. It ended up being a long night of heated passion that I knew I'd regret once morning came. I didn't see him again until a week later at work. We've been avoiding eye contact and pretending nothing ever happened since then. But my husband has no idea about this, and I feel like there's always going to be this part of me that will never be able to tell him what really went down that night.