While my husband is away at work, trapped in duty and routine, I slip into a version of myself that feels even more complete. His absence, my freedom, and the quiet knowledge that the truth will be waiting for him when he returns. I’ve cheated on him again, with the same man, and I don’t regret a single second of it. Without protection. He doesn’t come inside me, but the risk of getting pregnant is palpable. When my husband comes home, I let him see just enough for him to understand: My world doesn’t stand still in his absence. It expands. That is what he must learn, time and again. I decide what is revealed, and when he is allowed to witness both.
