After another grueling day at work and too many drinks, Tommy gave in to his friend’s suggestion and went to the secret sex house. It was a place he’d never imagined stepping into, but tonight, he needed something—anything—to numb the ache inside.

The building was discreet, tucked away in a shadowy alley. Tommy handed over the cash without a word and followed the directions to a private room. His steps were heavy, his mind clouded with alcohol and apprehension.

When he opened the door, the dimly lit room greeted him with soft light and the faint scent of perfume. Sitting on the bed was a woman, her figure draped in delicate lingerie. She was turned slightly away, her head tilted down. For a moment, he froze. Something about her seemed hauntingly familiar.

She lifted her head, and Tommy’s breath caught in his throat. His heart raced as his mind struggled to process what he was seeing. It was her—his wife. The wife he had mourned for years, the woman he thought he’d never see again.

His chest tightened, but for the first time in so long, it wasn’t with anger or grief—it was with hope. “Is it really you?” he whispered, his voice shaking. He stepped closer, disbelief and joy warring inside him.

She didn’t answer. Her eyes met his briefly, blank and unrecognizing. Tommy’s smile faltered, but he couldn’t stop himself. “It’s me,” he said, his voice trembling. “Tommy. Your husband.”

Her silence felt like a knife, but he swore he saw a flicker of something—confusion, maybe—cross her face. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make his heart race.

He dropped to his knees before her, his hands trembling. “I thought I lost you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But you’re here. You’re alive.”

She didn’t respond, her gaze distant, but Tommy didn’t care. For the first time in years, something broke through the darkness. She was here, and that was enough—for now.