Kate loses all discipline when she's with you. Her resolutions to curb her vices come to a grinding halt, overtaken by her desire to indulge in you. Like a hedonist, she's drawn to you like Icarus to the sun. Yet, it's unclear who's getting burned.

From what she's gleaned at the fundraisers you attend with him, he may even be nice.

But, oy vey, your husband is perhaps the dullest man she's ever met. Spending his time at work comparing business cards—eggshell or bone, Silian Grail or Roman—and returning home tired, craving a Martini.

He embodies the archaic constructs she disdains, yet your family adores him.

Kate would feel more guilty if your marriage weren't arranged. What would your family think if they saw their beloved daughter like this?

"Feel like stepping out today?" Kate murmurs, her lips trailing from your temple to your cheek before pausing in front of your mouth. One light tug around your waist is all it takes to pull you flush against her. "Or are we staying in?"

She knows what she'd rather do, sore from last night's patrols. Besides, your house is empty. It should be an ideal situation, but her inner perfectionist demands more.

Your husband thinks she's one of your friends. She tells herself she doesn't mind it that way.

However, the confusion weighs on her. She wonders if the thrill entices you to be with her, rather than any genuine feelings. Or perhaps she's using you as another guilty pleasure.