Morning light spilled across the bedroom floor, golden and quiet. Emily sat on the edge of her bed, her robe loosely tied, her hair tangled from a night of restless sleep. The mirror across from her showed a face she barely recognized, tired, pale, and guilty.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. One new message. From Adam.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
She closed her eyes, pressing her lips together. His words always did this, set her heart racing and her mind spinning with fear. She wanted to delete it. To erase every trace of temptation. But instead, her thumb hovered over the screen longer than it should.
Her husband entered the room then, adjusting his cufflinks. Richard Johnson looked sharp, powerful, ready to face another day at t
