"You're making something out of nothing, Lionel," Joss responded dismissively.

Fusco couldn't deny that, but there was clearly something going on. He could see it in the way they stood so close together, the way they didn't look at each other, as if knowing one look at the other would give them away. He knew all this because he had been there before, but he'd been the one who was left holding the bag. In hindsight, he had seen the very same thing right before his wife left him for another man.

Joss was there for him during the aftermath, during the divorce, and was there to help him pick himself up after many pity parties of one where he drowned his sorrows. She knew what he went through, how much it had hurt and how it had torn his family apart. She was better than this.

He looked into her dark brown eyes and knew that for now she spoke the truth. For now. But how much longer could they keep up this charade? How much longer before they gave in to those feelings and forgot about everything that made them who they were, their honor, their morals, and their self-respect?

"An affair ain't no easy thing," he continued. "It can destroy everyone around you, including yourself. You need to think about and wonder if it's worth it. And so does John."

She shook her head a little too swiftly, her denial a little too strong. "There's nothing going on. I love Paul. John loves Jessica. We're both happily married and you need to mind your own business." She stood up from the park bench and rubbed her hands down the front of her pants, avoiding further eye contact.

Fusco stood up as well, holding his hands up in a surrendering gesture. He hoped he was able to get through to her, but no one ever labeled him as a moral compass. "Okay. I get it. I'll keep my mouth shut. But don't think that it's going to go away anytime soon. It's only going to get worse. Whatever it is you two got going, nip it in the bud," he warned. He tossed the styrofoam cup of now cold coffee into a nearby trash can and walked away, leaving Joss behind to think about what he'd said.

She began walking in the opposite direction towards the north exit of the park. She felt the vibration of her phone and heard the ring of a bell, alerting her of a new text. Taking it out of her pocket, she unlocked the phone to read the message:

Waldorf Astoria
Room 1215

She didn't have to do this. It was only supposed to be a one-time deal, a one-night stand with a stranger she thought she'd never see again. She and Paul were working things out now; they'd been going to counseling and even started a weekly date night to get their spark back. Paul was truly making an effort to change for the better and be the man she married seventeen years ago. But if she was honest with herself, she'd admit that all the counseling and date nights they sat through wasn't enough. It couldn't quell the fire inside her.

Every stolen look, every subtle brush of his hand against hers, every text message, every late night meeting in the park were they'd meet and just talk for hours until nearly dawn... Every time she saw him, he stole a piece of her heart and she couldn't stop it if she tried. Every heated gaze sparked a flame inside her that she had never felt with Paul in all their years of being together.

She took another look at the text:

Waldorf Astoria
Room 1215

They hadn't slept together since the first night they met. They'd danced around it, never truly acknowledging it after the first confrontation, but they were never intimate again. They both continued to lie to themselves about how it was just once and that they'd moved on. But now... now he'd made the next move.

He'd told her that he wanted her, that he couldn't stop thinking about her. His marriage with Jessica had also been strained, even more so now than it ever had. He'd said that he hadn't touched Jessica in over a month and he hadn't wanted to, tired of imagining being inside Joss instead of being with his wife.

His wife.

He was married. They both were.

What was she thinking? The first time was the only time and it wasn't a mistake. They'd both been very aware of the choice they'd made and had fully understood what they were doing at the time. The problem is... she'd never expected to see him again after that night, much less have him and his wife move into the house next door. She didn't expect to see him working at the same precinct as she did. She wasn't prepared for any of this. Yet, here they were.

Waldorf Astoria
Room 1215

She memorized the information before deleting the text, her decision weighing heavily on her mind. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she made a call.

"Hey baby, I'm making your favorite tonight. My world famous chili and cornbread," Paul answered with a smile in his voice.

The guilt weighed heavily on her. "I'm sorry, but it's going to be another late night. I'm up to my ears in paperwork and I have to meet with a C.I. on a cold case I've been working on. Save a bowl for me?" she asked, keeping her tone as light as possible.

"You know I'll keep it hot for you," he flirted.

She forced herself to laugh girlishly, but she really felt like shit. "Okay, but don't stay up. I'll see you later." She hung up before he could say anything else.

She could still change her mind. She could go home to her husband and have a homemade meal with her family. She could smile and pretend that everything was okay and that she was still happy in their marriage. She could make love to her husband tonight and try not to think about the man she really wanted.

The man who could whisper in her ear something as simple as "Hello, Detective" like it was a secret between the two of them. The man with expressive blue eyes and an intense stare that easily turned her on. The smoldering stare so full of want that she always had to look away, and usually led her to taking impromptu cold showers in the ladies locker room of the precinct where she gave herself empty orgasms from touching herself, imagining her hands as his.

She could go home. She should go home.

She walked out of the park and waited to hail a cab on the sidewalk, pacing back and forth. Once the taxi pulled over, she opened the door and settled in the back seat.

"Where to, ma'am?" asked the driver with a bit of impatience.

"Take me to Park Avenue, the Waldorf."