The man I had an affair with was the marriage counselor my husband paid a fortune to bring us together-5
The Dangerous Text
Wednesday afternoons became fixed. Tuesday night, my phone lit. An unknown number. "Chill tomorrow. Bundle up. Lucas." My heart hammered like frantic drums in the silent bedroom. David scrolled financial news, screen light etching his profile. I killed the screen, palm slick. This breached boundaries. Unprofessional. Yet those words warmed a frozen corner within. I clutched the phone, screen-down against my chest, a stolen secret. David’s breathing remained steady, oblivious to the fleeting glow.
Cafe Collision
Saturday afternoon, solo museum visit. Sunlight blinded me upon exit. A quiet corner cafe beckoned. I sought clarity amidst chaotic art impressions. My latte ordered, a familiar figure materialized. Lucas. Light grey shirt, book in hand. "Sophie?" Feigned surprise touched his face. "Fancy this." Sunlight haloed his light brown hair.
My pulse spiked. Coincidence? In this vast city? "Yes, unexpected," my voice rasped. He pulled out a chair. Coffee aroma mingled with sunshine. We discussed the exhibition, unnatural ease settling. His laugh etched genuine crinkles. Departing, he offered no explanation. I asked none. His shoulder brushed mine. "Next week?" His farewell. Watching him leave, my coffee had chilled. Coincidence?
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Wednesday afternoons became fixed. Tuesday night, my phone lit. An unknown number. "Chill tomorrow. Bundle up. Lucas." My heart hammered like frantic drums in the silent bedroom. David scrolled financial news, screen light etching his profile. I killed the screen, palm slick. This breached boundaries. Unprofessional. Yet those words warmed a frozen corner within. I clutched the phone, screen-down against my chest, a stolen secret. David’s breathing remained steady, oblivious to the fleeting glow.
Cafe Collision
Saturday afternoon, solo museum visit. Sunlight blinded me upon exit. A quiet corner cafe beckoned. I sought clarity amidst chaotic art impressions. My latte ordered, a familiar figure materialized. Lucas. Light grey shirt, book in hand. "Sophie?" Feigned surprise touched his face. "Fancy this." Sunlight haloed his light brown hair.
My pulse spiked. Coincidence? In this vast city? "Yes, unexpected," my voice rasped. He pulled out a chair. Coffee aroma mingled with sunshine. We discussed the exhibition, unnatural ease settling. His laugh etched genuine crinkles. Departing, he offered no explanation. I asked none. His shoulder brushed mine. "Next week?" His farewell. Watching him leave, my coffee had chilled. Coincidence?
NEXT >>
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