’This is the fucking chance where I’ll start my move...’

’Gotta love it when I can see a frustrated wife that I can use for all I want!’

’Alright... time to slowly break her, baby!’

Mike didn’t pull his hand away and instead let his thumb trace a slow and deliberate circle against the fabric of her burgundy blouse, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath.

He hadn’t leaned in yet. He stayed rooted to the spot, a steady, reassuring presence in her dimly lit living room.

"Gerald is a man who lives for the thrill of the gamble, Petricia." Mike’s voice dropped to a low, resonant hum that seemed to vibrate in the quiet air.

He wasn’t mocking her, but he was stating a fact.

"He chases the high of the win, but he lacks the guts to face the reality of the loss."

"He runs to a friend’s house because he can’t stand to see the woman who actually keeps his world spinning..."

"Honestly... I felt bad for your condition, even though your economy right now is stable because of the apartment..."

"Who knows what will happen in the near future because..." Mike smirked. "...a gambler can lose anything in seconds."

"But..." Petria tried to say something, but she can’t let the right words out.

’Still trying to resist me, huh...?’ Mike thought. ’It’s no use...’

He moved, turning his body to her just enough to take up her space but not crowding her. "A man who spends his life running from his responsibilities doesn’t know how to cherish what’s right in front of him."

"He’s just a man-baby playing with grown-up money."

He let it sink in, watching the way her eyes darted to the glass of water, her breath catching just a fraction.

"As you can see for yourself, you’re the pillar for this married life for almost... every day," he went on, never taking his eyes from her.

"I know that you are strong and even capable... And what’s even better is that you are still beautiful even for your age." Mike starts his sweet talk with a little bit of manipulation. "But even a pillar needs something to lean on when the storm hits."

"Why should you be the only one in this marriage who is honest about what she needs?"

’That reaction... love to see it...’

His hand moved from her shoulder, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw, angling her face up to him. "He’s out there chasing ghosts, but you... are right here."

"And you deserve someone who doesn’t just notice you, but someone who really sees the whole of you."

Everything that Mike said made Petricia’s breath catch in her throat. It echoed in the quiet apartment.

’Heh... there it is... I see a weak spot that I can use.’

’Time to push her more...’

As Mike’s fingers moved along her jaw, her cheeks got very hot all of a sudden, and a deep red blush spread from her neck to the tips of her ears. She felt exposed, as if his words had taken away the protection she’d put on to keep her life from falling apart.

’Yeah... it works alright.’

She tried to look away, to find solace in the dim shadows of the room or the glint of the water glass, but his gaze was a tether. It was too certain, too stable.

"Don’t try to look away and deny your true feelings like that." Mike chuckled. "Just focus on me."

"N-No... stop it..."

Petricia felt weird when he spoke of Gerald’s cowardice, a pang of bitter truth pierced her heart and stung her eyes. He was saying the things she’d whispered to herself in the dark for years, but hearing them from a man like Mike, a man who moved with such effortless, predatory grace, made them feel dangerously real.

"Mike..." she whispered, her voice quivering. "Please stop..."

"Eh? Why should I stop saying the truth?" Mike tilt his head. "You need to know it... before it starts hurting you from the inside."

Her heart thudded in her chest, a frantic rhythm betraying her outward stillness. She felt a strange, dizzy vulnerability, the kind that comes when a dam has held so long it begins to crack.

Her lips parted slightly, her skin tingling where his touch remained. She was a woman of order and duty.

But under the weight of his intense scrutiny, she felt herself melting, her resolve softening into a desperate, quiet hunger for the very thing he was offering: to be seen, to be held, and to finally stop being so damn strong all by herself.

’Oh no... this is the worst...’ Petricia thought. ’As a landlady... I couldn’t show these vulnerable feelings to my tenant...’

Mike slowly felt frustrated by how resistant she can be. ’Fuck it... let’s just execute it now!’

He didn’t wait for her to get her feet. He moved in, closing the gap, sliding across the leather of the sofa until his thigh pressed hard against hers.

The heat of his body was a tangible force, invading her space with an assurance that brooked no hesitation. He leaned closer, and their faces were a breath apart, cedar and warm skin enveloping her senses.

"Don’t try to fight it, Petricia," he murmured, his voice a velvet command. "Don’t fight the fact that you are starving for someone who will actually touch you without planning your escape route first."

Petricia shook and breathed out, her hand on the edge of the cushion. "It’s..."

"...not so easy," she whispered, eyes wide and shining with a mix of desire and dread. "I’m a married woman, Mike."

"Even if he’s... even if he’s not here... this would be cheating... and it would count... It wouldn’t be right for me... and for us..."

Mike chuckled low and dark, a sound of pure unfiltered amusement that wasn’t mocking but patronizing in its certainty. He reached for her, his hand sliding from her jaw to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in the soft hair at the base of her skull to keep her gaze.

"Aw, come on now..."

"Don’t think too deeply about something unimportant as that."

"Cheating is a word people say when they are afraid to live." He retorted, his eyes turning dark with a predatory gleam. "Gerald’s out there looking for a high that’s not there."

"But here you are, feeling all lonely and unappreciated," Mike laughed. "Is it really cheating to finally be honest with yourself?"

"You know what they say... before you love someone, you better love yourself first by being honest."

He leaned in closer until his hot breath was on her lips. "Just tonight."

"Don’t think about the apartment or the money or the years of marriage."

"Just let your desire out..."

"Be selfish for once and be free..."

"You can go back to being the perfect, faithful wife tomorrow, but tonight... tonight just be the Petricia you’re trying to hide in there."

Petricia’s hands shot to his chest, palms against the solid, wide muscle of his pectorals. It was a feeble barricade, a last-ditch effort to maintain the distance her conscience insisted upon, but her fingers were false to her.

Instead of thrusting him from her, they closed in the cloth of his shirt, feeling the slow, strong throb of his heart. She was close enough to feel the radiating heat of him, a stark contrast to the hollow chill Gerald always left behind.

’Oh god... What am I doing...?’ her mind screamed, a whirlwind of guilt and desire. ’This is crazy.’

’He is my new tenant, and I didn’t know that he could turn out to be the man who sees me at my most vulnerable.’

’One touch and the ball is passed...’

’One night and the faithful wife is gone.’

She looked into his eyes for a reason to back away, but nothing but that maddening, superior certainty was there.

’But when was the last time somebody looked at me like this...?’ She thought while hearing the whisper of a traitor. ’Gerald looks at me like I’m a piece of furniture in the house, the piece of furniture that handles the bills.’

’But here he is... Mike Hawk... he looks at me like... like a woman—like a reward.’

Something dark and rebellious in her soul flared. ’If Gerald can be ’free’ to gamble away our stability, why can’t I be ’free’ to feel alive?’

’It’s one time only... a one-night only, yes.’

’A temporary lapse...’

’A venting of all this pent-up frustration and all this loneliness...’

’I know that it wouldn’t change what I am...."

’But... Would it not? Or would it finally make me whole again?’

Her body was rigid with tension, caught between the ironclad structure of her moral code and the primal, aching need. Mike was so expertly coaxing it to the surface.

She was a woman on a precipice, gazing down into a lovely and perilous void, wondering whether the plunge would kill her or at last liberate her.

Mike sensed the change, the exact moment when the dam inside him started to give way. He didn’t hurry, only secured his hold on the nape of her neck, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin behind her ear, slow and hypnotic.

"Give in to it, Petricia," he whispered, a low, seductive vibration in his voice. "Let the world fall."

"You’ve been holding up everything for years as a faithful wife who keeps letting her gambler husband get away with all of this."

"For now... Let someone else hold the weight for just a few hours."

Petricia let her head fall back a fraction, her eyes fluttering closed, her resistance finally breaking. ’I’m sorry, dear...’

"Fine," she whispered, the word a low sound, heavy with surrender and the last trace of shame. "But... only on one condition, which is no kissing..."

"I mean it... not on the lips...!"

"We can’t make it too real by kissing on the lips like some kind of... affair."

Mike’s lips curved into a knowing, hungry smile. He knew her condition was a thin shield, a way to fake she wasn’t really crossing the line.

"No kissing on the lips, huh?" he said, with a dark, playful threat in his voice. "How unfortunate, but eh... who cares anyway."

"And it’s fine by me."