Page 3 of Unfaithful

I could see it in her eyes as she looked at me just after I finished my meal. She was ready to try again.

She rose from the stool she had been sitting on, a seductive look playing across her face. Softly, she breathed my name,"Cole," as she gently pulled me, turning me to face her. Sliding between my legs, her eyes locked with mine, full of longing. They spoke loudly about how much she had missed me, how deeply she wanted me, how desperately she needed me.

Her hands reached for the hem of her shirt, pinching it lightly before slowly lifting it over her head, revealing the smooth, bare skin beneath. Her bare breasts looked full and heavy, her nipples hard and pointed toward me. I glanced down at her round stomach, where my little girl was growing, then back up at her face. She saw it in my eyes at that moment. I had given her my permission.

Her hands moved to my crotch and began massaging my shaft over my pants. Even though I despised her with every piece of my fucking heart, it started to fill. By the time she unfastened my belt and slid down the zipper, I was already hard. She pulled it out, her hand wrapping around it as she stroked up and down. She leaned in to kiss me, but I turned away, avoiding her lips and her gaze. It was hard to face the hurt in her eyes.

Elsa took my hand and gently tugged me toward her, guiding me off the stool. Without a word, I followed her to the bedroom. She pushed down her shorts and panties before sitting at the edge of the bed, completely naked, beckoning me closer.

I stood before her, towering over her, watching as she slowly pulled down my pants and boxers until they reached my mid-thighs. She looked up and smiled before wrapping both hands around my shaft, stroking it again. Then she leaned down, licking the slit before the head disappeared entirely inside her mouth, stretching her lips. I hissed at the sensation. Her head began to bob up and down, pushing in further and further until she gagged.

The sensation captivated me for a moment, and I wondered why it felt different this time. But it didn't last. I felt it. The familiar fading, the way it lost its strength, slowly softening completely. Lately, it had always been this way.

Elsa noticed, too, pulling away with a quiet pop. Her eyes searched mine, silently asking, “Why, Cole?”

I knew the answer all too well. It was the guilt, always lingering in my subconscious. The guilt that stopped me from going any further. That I couldn't do this to Sara. To my wife. Not anymore.

Because despite everything—the fact that I was a fucking asshole, a cheater—my heart, every part of it, still belonged to Sara. No one else had even come close except for my daughter.

I would always go back to Sara. And there would be no one else. Not even Elsa.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I can't."

Stepping back from her, I fixed my clothes and walked back to the kitchen. I carried the empty plate to the sink, rinsed it quickly, then placed it in the dishwasher. Standing there, I glanced around the house—the townhouse I'd bought for Elsa. The monthly allowance I sent her covered everything, more than enough to maintain a life of comfort and luxury. She didn't need to work a single day if she didn't want to, yet she still insisted on doing so.

"I'm going now," I said, turning toward the door and finding her already standing there, already clothed.

She said nothing, her gaze following me with that same expectant look.

I walked over to her, leaned down, and brushed my lips against her cheek. Nothing more than a fleeting touch.

"Take care of my baby. I'll be back in a few days."

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heels and headed for the door. She followed me silently, her eyes fixed on my back. I slipped on my shoes, grabbed the keys, and just before I stepped out, her voice came—soft but heavy with feelings.

"I love you, Cole. See you tomorrow."

CHAPTER TWO

Cole

I woke up feeling completely drained. So exhausted I could barely move. My mind was carrying too heavy a weight to bear. The stress of keeping everything together, of pretending everything was fine, was exhausting. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, replaying every decision that led me here, every mistake that had turned my life into this tangled mess. How could I have been so fucking stupid?

I kept asking myself why I cheated on my wife when I loved her so deeply. Why had I allowed myself to be swayed by someone new—someone who, in truth, meant nothing to me beyond physical attraction? I wasn't unsatisfied with Sara. I was very satisfied. She was everything I could have wanted in a partner. There was no logical reason for me to betray her, no justification for letting myself fall into this trap.

Yet, I had. And all for what? Because it was something new? Something different? A fleeting return to a version of myself I thought I'd left behind, the carefree bachelor who moved from one woman to the next without a second thought. But I wasn't that person anymore, and pretending otherwise had only made everything worse.

Now, I was stuck, tethered to a mistake that had spiraled into a life-altering reality. I hated myself for it. For risking everything I had with Sara for something so empty, someaningless. The guilt was eating away at me. And worse, the realization that I had destroyed the stability I once took for granted, all for a momentary thrill, kept haunting me. Now, I had to live with the consequences.

For months, I had been juggling this secret life. I'd go to Elsa, then come back to my wife, pretending everything was normal. I'd lie to her, keeping up the appearance that nothing had changed. It was draining. The mental effort of keeping the two parts of my life separate—of pretending—was wearing me thin.

When I started with Elsa, I had been married to Sara for three years. It began as something brief. An intense fling that lasted a month before Elsa found out she was pregnant. That changed everything. It stopped being just an affair. It was a whole other level of mess I never expected. And now, eight months later, I still didn't know how to fix it. Or if it was even fixable.

How was I supposed to balance everything? How would I handle the pressure? I wasn't ready for what came next, and honestly, I wasn't sure I ever would be. The idea of dealing with both families and keeping up the lies felt like something I couldn't keep up with much longer.

Elsa was about to give birth soon, and I still couldn't see a way to manage this life once our daughter arrived. A baby would make the already complicated situation even more real and harder to hide.

I had no answers. No clear path forward. The mess I'd created felt impossible to navigate, and the guilt only grew heavier with time.

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