He had spent a passionate night with someone that wasn’t his wife.

So the morning after the guilt had engulfed him as he located his shirt within the hotel room, iniquity swallowed him whole as he glanced back to the individual he’d shared the amorous night with.

It’d be a secret; that he enjoyed the raucousness, the fervour with someone else.

Should infidelity feel that good?

He stood up, ready to leave as if nothing had happened.

It was easier that way; a dismissal of his wrongdoings. Yet, were his actions so wrong if he enjoyed himself?