"I met this incredible woman a few months ago, one of those rare encounters that sneaks up on you. She was vibrant, full of life, and talking with her was like stepping back into a world of color after years of gray. We laughed, shared dreams, and I found myself waking up, feeling alive again.

Yet, a weight kept pulling me back—my marriage of over a decade. My wife and I had once shared something beautiful, but over time, love had softened into habit, and silence had settled between us. She was a good woman, steady and kind, but our connection had faded, becoming little more than routine.

Now here I was, torn, lingering in a place between past and present, feeling the guilt each night as I lay beside her.

I sighed, looking down at the woman on my arm, sleeping peacefully, her wedding ring catching the dim light. How could I possibly tell her, when she looked so beautiful, so peaceful here beside me? How could I tell her I like someone else… that my love for her faded ages ago? I guess I should just endure it… like I’ve been doing for the past ten years."