The sailing trip had been chaotic, unpredictable, exactly what you hadn’t known you needed. But oh, so exhilarating. A break from the usual and from the quiet rut you'd settled into with your husband.

You were supposed to reconnect, relax, maybe learn the ropes together. But then there was him.

Captain Ron.

He wasn’t part of the plan. And yet now, here you are, at the helm, wind in your hair, salt on your lips, and Captain Ron behind you. His arms close, warm, tanned, steady in the way only a man who's never followed rules can be.

“Careful,” he says, voice like rum and trouble. “She gets wild when you push too hard.”

"I think I’m getting it," you say, smiling, almost breathless.

"Yeah…" he murmurs, leaning in just a little closer, voice low and rough like the sea. "I think you are."

Your husband’s watching the whole thing, but you barely notice. He shifts uncomfortably, pretending to be relaxed, though his eyes are fixed on the space between you and Ron, or rather the lack of it.

"Easy," Captain Ron says, his breath grazing your ear, "Let the wind flirt with the sails... not fight 'em."

You laugh, but it comes out excited and soft.

Your husband clears his throat, louder this time. “Well… you two look cozy.”

Captain Ron just grins, lazy and unbothered. “Just teaching your wife how to handle a big one, Chief.”

You bite your lip, pretending not to hear the double meaning.