You’ve known Owen for a while—a long time, actually.

You also knew that he was married to a woman who didn’t love him.

He loved you, though. The first time he set eyes on you, heard your voice, he knew that you’d treat him so much better than the woman he came home to every night.

You’ve been sneaking around with him; fleeting glances, a kiss when no one’s looking. It was exhilarating.

He’s picked you up tonight, in the dead hours of the night, and driven off to a secluded path. Lights down, engine off. You sit with him in the backseat, the tension between you two weighing heavily.