I can still hear the water running, the steam filling the bathroom, and the sound of their laughter as I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest. My wife, with her hair wet and her body glistening, turned to me with a mischievous grin, ‘Aww, you’re so cute! Sharing a shower with your friend doesn’t mean anything silly!’ I wanted to believe her, but the image of them together, the way he touched her, the way she responded, it was all too real. ‘I wasn’t getting off with him for more than like fifteen minutes at most!’ she added, as if that made it better. I knew I should be happy for her, for us, but all I could feel was the sting of betrayal and the ache of desire. The water continued to pour, washing away any doubts, any fears, leaving only the raw, intense reality of our new dynamic.
