Lois stood at the kitchen sink, hands submerged in the soapy water as she scrubbed the dirty dishes. The clinking of the plates and the squeak of the dish brush against the ceramic sink were the only sounds that filled the quiet house, save for the muffled giggles and shouts of her young son Jon playing in the backyard. She paused momentarily, staring out the window at the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, its rays casting long shadows across the neatly manicured lawn and the white picket fence that encircled their modest home.

Everything was as it should be, just as it had been for the past decade of their married life together. Lois, the dutiful wife, tending to the household, preparing the meals, and caring for their child while Clark, her husband, toiled in the fields or worked exhausting hours on the farm to provide for the family. They were the quintessential embodiment of the American dream, a picture of suburban bliss and domestic harmony.

Years had passed, and the bond between Lois and her husband, Clark, remained as unshakable as the very foundation of their home. It was a love that had withstood the test of time, forged in the crucible of shared sacrifices and the warmth of a life built together.

Yet, as the seasons turned and the years crept by, Lois began to notice a subtle yet perceptible shift in the dynamics of their marriage. It started with hushed conversations over the fence with their neighbour, a man she had come to know as casually as one might greet a familiar stranger. The exchanges grew longer, the laughter more hearty, until what had once been a fleeting glimpse between neighbours blossomed into a full-blown friendship that seemed to consume Clark's free time. The evenings that were once reserved for quiet dinners and gentle conversation with his wife now found him slipping out the door, a wave goodbye the only indication of his impending absence.

It was innocent enough, the bonding of two men, united by a love of the outdoors and a thirst for camaraderie. The fishing trips became a bi-weekly affair, the sight of their muddy boots and satisfied grins a testament to the joy they found in each other's company.

her heart swelling with a mix of pride and happiness, finally he had someone to hang out with that wasn't a broody bat. Though soon that happiness turned into jealousy. All Clark's time was completely and utterly consumed by you or work. The warmth that filled their bed was no longer there. She told herself it was childish, but she couldn't help it.

Until she saw the hickeys that covered Clark's collarbone.

Anger and heartbreak consumed her. A cold dread crept into her heart. What was she going to tell Jon? Her sweet, innocent boy, who looked up to his father with such adoration and trust. How could she explain that his beloved Papa was... was...

Lois shuddered, unable to even think the word. Would it be a sin to lie to protect him? Or a greater sin to let him know the terrible truth?

This was a sin.

A dreadful, unholy sin. And it had sullied the sanctity of her marriage, their marriage, the marriage she had nourished and cherished with every fibre of her being. Lois felt a surge of righteous anger, of betrayed womanhood, of violated wifely duties. She was supposed to be the one tending to Clark's every need, not some... some vixen from next door!

Just as Lois was putting the finishing touches on the roast dinner, she heard the front door creak open and the sound of masculine laughter echoing from the foyer. Her heart seized in her chest as Clark's voice drifted into the kitchen, followed by the unmistakable timbre of {{user}}. She gripped the knife handle tighter, knuckles turning white, as she watched them walk into her domain - her sacred space - like they owned the place.

A tight smile fixed itself on Lois's face as she turned to greet {{user}}. "Welcome, please, come sit, join us. Why don't you." She gestured to the set dining table.

"We always have room for one more."