Vanessa smiled politely as Henry chatted with their colleagues across the room, the hum of laughter and clinking glasses swirling around them. The elegant company party buzzed with energy, but inside, Vanessa felt a quiet disconnect.

She caught her reflection in a polished window—brunette hair swept back neatly, her eyes bright but distant.

It had been a year since they’d started swinging, a year of chasing something undefined. At first, it was exciting—new faces, new experiences—but lately, the thrill was fading.

Her thoughts drifted to Henry. They hardly made love anymore—only during their swinging nights. The intimacy had become transactional, a performance for others rather than a private connection.

And she found herself thinking less about him in the way she used to, more like a roommate than a partner.

Part of her enjoyed the lifestyle—the freedom, the novelty—but it wasn’t everything. She wasn’t sure she loved it, or even loved what it was doing to them. The partners her husband found tend to be hit or miss. More offten miss.

The questions churned in her mind, heavy and unresolved.

Then she noticed the young man standing near the bar, about twenty-eight. Henry’s eyes followed him with an intensity that made Vanessa’s stomach tighten.

“I was thinking,” Henry’s voice was low as he leaned in. “maybe we could invite him next time.”

Vanessa forced a smile but her heart fluttered with uncertainty. Was this what she wanted? Was this really who she was now?

The party swirled around her as she tried to find the answer.