Rachel lay beside her husband, Adam, staring at the ceiling while the last of her breathing settled into the darkness. His arm rested across her stomach, warm and possessive, as if nothing separated them.
He thought they had just made love.
Rachel knew differently.
She loved Adam. That was what made the secret so difficult to carry. He was kind, attentive and patient. He still kissed her as if marriage had changed nothing between them. Yet somewhere among the familiar mornings, household routines and predictable nights, her desire for him had quietly disappeared.
His touch no longer surprised her. His kisses followed paths she knew too well. She could anticipate every movement before it happened.
Their marriage had become an example of how intimacy can quietly break down even when two people still shared the same bed.
Tonight, when Adam reached for her, Rachel had almost turned away. She was tired of pretending, but she was even more afraid of explaining why. She feared the conversation that would follow and the expression she might see on his face.
So she closed her eyes.
And made room for Mark.
Mark was Adam’s best friend. He visited often, sat at their table and drank Adam’s beer. He laughed easily and listened intently. When Rachel spoke, Mark looked directly at her, as if the rest of the room had temporarily disappeared.
She had noticed his hands first.
Once, while passing her a glass of wine, his fingers brushed hers. The contact lasted no longer than a second, but she carried it to bed that night and replayed it until the memory became something warmer.
Rachel had never kissed Mark. He had never made an improper suggestion. As far as she knew, he had never imagined her naked.
That innocence made the fantasy easier to protect.
When Adam kissed her neck, she imagined Mark’s mouth there instead. When her husband’s hand travelled over her waist, it belonged to the man who had watched her from across the dinner table. In her mind, Mark entered the bedroom silently, closed the door and stood beside the bed.
He did not speak. He didn’t need to.
This was not sleep, but it felt like dreaming. Rachel drifted into a place where one man held her while another awakened her. Adam supplied the warmth, movement and weight. Mark supplied the danger.
Her body responded almost immediately.
Adam noticed.
“There you are,” he whispered.
The words almost pulled her out of the fantasy. He believed he had rediscovered something in her, something that had merely been hiding. Rachel tightened her arms around him and closed her eyes harder, terrified that Mark’s face might vanish.
It returned.
In her imagination, Mark leaned close enough for her to feel his breath. He touched her with the confidence of a man who had wanted her secretly for years. There was no hesitation, no familiarity and no history of disappointing nights. Everything felt stolen. Urgent. Deliciously wrong.
Adam moved against her, but Rachel dreamed she was making love to Mark.
She let the fantasy take control. Every sensation passed through it before reaching her. The husband in her bed became the body of the lover in her mind, and the more clearly she pictured Mark, the more deeply she responded.
For those few minutes, she wanted everything.
Adam mistook her passion for renewed desire. He held her tighter, encouraged by the change, unaware that every soft sound she made was meant for someone else.
Once, Mark’s name came dangerously close to escaping her lips.
“M—”
Rachel caught it, turning the sound into a moan and burying her face against Adam’s shoulder. He kissed her hair, pleased with himself, while her heart hammered with the fear of discovery.
Afterwards, Adam fell asleep quickly.
Rachel remained awake beneath his arm.
People keep private fantasies and other secrets from their spouses for many reasons. Some thoughts are fleeting and harmless. Others provide an escape from disappointment. Rachel told herself hers belonged to neither man. It existed only inside her; therefore, it could not be infidelity.
But Mark was not a nameless actor or distant singer. He was real. He knew where they lived. His number was in her phone, and his coat sometimes hung beside Adam’s near the front door.
That made her fantasy more stimulating—and far more dangerous.
Perhaps fantasising was simply helping her through an intimacy-starved marriage. Perhaps it was her mind’s way of crossing the silent void between physical contact and genuine desire.
Or perhaps she had already crossed a line.
At dawn, Rachel slipped from beneath Adam’s arm and carried her clothes into the bathroom. Her reflection looked flushed and guilty. When her phone illuminated the counter, she saw a message from Mark.
Great seeing you both. We should do it again soon.
Rachel read it twice.
She deleted the notification but kept the message.
Behind her, Adam continued sleeping, believing something beautiful had returned to their marriage. Rachel turned off the screen and stood in the darkness, wondering how long she could continue making love to one man while secretly dreaming of another.
She already knew what would happen the next time Adam reached for her.
Mark would be waiting behind her closed eyes.
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Love, lust, and lies collide on land and water. A temptress, a faithful wife, and a photographer haunted by shadows drift into a world of seduction, betrayal, and control.
Marriages unravel, secrets surface, and civility dissolves into primal instinct. Nothing is safe. No one is innocent.
SEETHINGS (first in the series) is downloadable and free for a limited time here.
Discover more from Michael Forman – Author of Dark Fiction & Drama
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