William lay awake in the darkness, the digital clock on the bedside table glowing 3:02 a.m.

Beside him, his wife slept peacefully, her breathing slow and even.

He stared at the ceiling.

No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts drifted back to Colleen.

Not simply the image of her standing barefoot in the garden, laughing as the summer breeze caught her dress, but the ease with which she carried herself. She seemed untouched by self-consciousness, comfortable in her own skin in a way he had rarely encountered.

It unsettled him.

He had always admired beauty, but this felt different.

It wasn’t youth that had captivated him. It was confidence. Warmth. Kindness. A woman who had lived a full life and somehow still found joy in the smallest moments.

He closed his eyes.

“What’s happening to me?” he whispered into the darkness.

The answer came before he could deny it.

He was becoming infatuated with Colleen.

The realization filled him with equal parts excitement and guilt.

He loved his wife. They had built decades together—shared triumphs, disappointments, children, holidays and ordinary Tuesdays that stitched a marriage into something enduring.

Yet somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten what it felt like to be surprised by another person.

Colleen had reminded him.

Not intentionally.

That made it even harder.

He turned onto his side, looking at his wife sleeping peacefully beside him.

A wave of guilt washed over him.

Nothing had happened between him and Colleen. They had exchanged little more than conversation, laughter and the occasional playful tease.

But he knew that emotional lines could blur long before physical ones were crossed.

As dawn began to lighten the curtains, William made himself a quiet promise.

He would keep his feelings to himself.

Some attractions, he decided, were meant to remain unspoken.

Whether he could keep that promise… was another question entirely.