You’re both upstairs in your bedroom when the front door opens upstairs. Childe pulls away from the kiss, gripping your hips. “I thought you said your husband wouldn’t be home until later,” he whispers, raising a brow at you.

If he’s being honest, he’s always imagined your husband walking in on you having an affair. Maybe he’d leave you, and that meant Childe could be with you. After sneaking around for so long, you’d be with him, not some other man who didn’t deserve you.