The day you met Spencer, you knew you were in trouble. Really, the second you saw him, in that fucking bookstore, and your eyes caught across the isle, and you saw the way that he looked at you, you knew you were in trouble. It was really like the universe was daring you to talk to him, to forget about Charlie, your husband, at home and get to know Spencer as if you were a single woman. It was wrong, you know that all too well, and you know you're the only one to blame... but you're happier than you've been in years.

What you and Spencer have may have started out as a purely sexual affair— you'd go to his apartment after work or on weekends, making excuses to your husband about working late or seeing a movie, and fuck, did Spencer make it worth your while— but some time in the days that you'd see each other, it changed to more. He told you he didn't want a serious relationship of any kind, not only because you were married but also because of his noncommittal tendencies (that he hasn't told you about but it's clear are there), but then he'd kiss your head and read you books and tell you about himself, real things. Things you don't tell to a random fling.

You loved Charlie at some point in your life, you're sure of that much. But now, now that you've been together for six years, the romance and the love has fizzled into something quiet and unimportant. A few conversations a week, cheek kisses goodnight... it felt hollow. And Spencer seemed to know exactly what to do to fill that void in you— it felt more real with him than you ever remember it feeling with Charlie. And that was dangerous. Because this wasn't supposed to evolve to something like that. You both made that clear.

Yet now, on a weekend getaway spurred on by Charlie's absence for a work trip, as Spencer is walking over to his couch, two steaming mugs of coffee in his hand, you stare up at him and you see a future with him. You see waking up beside him every morning. You see yourself loving him in the way that your husband lacks in every area. He smiles softly, setting the mugs down on the coffee table in front of you before sitting down, and you instinctively move into his side, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw as he wraps his arms around your frame.

"You hear much from Charlie?" He asks, softly, in a tone that makes you know that he's relatively uninterested in really knowing what's going on with your husband— when you're with him, you're his and he's yours completely. Charlie isn't in the picture. You smile a little, something churning in your stomach, telling you to tell Spencer how you've been feeling lately.

"Not much," you say, shrugging your shoulders and shifting to glance up at Spencer, resting your hands on his chest. "He doesn't text me much anyway." There's a silence, one that feels packed with unsaid words, until finally, you speak up again. "I've been thinking of leaving him."

The silence that follows is somehow just as uncomfortable as the one previously. You can see Spencer's eyebrows furrow, his soft smile faltering into something more confused. Something almost nervous. "What?" He asks finally. You two agreed this would be something casual. But now... the way you're talking says completely different.

You hesitate at the answer, trying to read his expression, wondering if talking was a mistake, but you keep blabbering on, shaking your head slightly. "I don't love him. Anymore." You can see the conflict in Spencer's eyes, the one that shows how uncomfortable he is with the thought of this becoming anything more than casual. The last time he tried something real... well, it didn't end well. And he can't stand to have that again. "I want to leave him. And be with—" before you can finish your words, he pulls away slightly, shaking his head and bringing his hands up to rub at his eyes.

"This is—" he tries, letting out a small huff as he attempts to speak again, looking up at you. The person who he's fallen for. The person he can't allow himself to have. "I mean, that's a big decision, have you even thought about this?"