He opened his eyes. The light of the setting sun streamed in through the window behind him. Phyllis lay still, her eyes still closed, her body still curled against his. Looking down at her, he softly kissed her face, smiling as her eyes fluttered at his touch.

"Hi," he whispered, his voice low and warm.

Phyllis moved slightly. "How long have I been here?"

"Not too long," he answered, holding her close to him as she tried to sit up. "And not nearly long enough."

It was constant-the pull to him, the desire to throw all caution to the wind and give in to what would be easy, what would feel good, what would make her happy, but she swore she wouldn't be that selfish-not again.

"I can't stay," she whispered, her voice betraying her disappointment. "I need to get home..Jack could call and he'll expect me to be there."

"Call? Jack's not home?"

"He's out of town on business this week." She could already see it in his eyes, the idea of it.

"Billy, I can't," she said softly, "We can't keep doing this."

"We can't sit on a couch together? Take a nap?" He glanced up at her a smile spreading across his face. "What are we doing here that's so wrong?"

God she loved him. That mischievous glimmer in his eyes sent her heart into over drive. She couldn't stop her own lips from curving into a smile in return and she had to look away as she felt her cheeks flush with desire.

"You know what I mean and you know this," she gestured to the couch, "would just be the first stop if I stay here much longer." She reluctantly pulled her body from his arms and stood.

He sighed, standing up to face her, "I'm not going to push you and I'm not going to pressure you, but know that you have somewhere to come-you have someone here that wants you." He pressed his lips to her forehead allowing his face to rest against hers a few moments longer than necessary.

He stepped back, his heart wrenching in his chest as she nodded and smiled slightly at him before walking out the door.


Coming home to an empty house shouldn't feel this way, she thought as she strolled into the dimly lit foyer. She used to hate it when Jack had out of town meetings. She'd wander around the house feeling as if something was missing without his presence. Her heart would beat faster when she heard his car in the driveway. She missed him, needed him, wanted him, was in love with him. Was.

Now-tonight-she felt entirely different. As she placed her purse on the coffee table and sat down on the couch, she realized this feeling was one of relief. She was relieved that her husband wasn't home tonight. She was grateful that she didn't have to plaster on the happy smile and pretend as if she wanted to be here. She didn't know how much longer she could play this game. She wanted to do the right thing. She needed to believe that she'd changed, become a more caring, selfless person. She could lie to Jack. She could lie to Billy. She could fake being the happy wife, but how long could she lie to herself?

It was all beginning to take a toll on her. She felt terrible, exhausted, as if she no longer had the desire to do anything. She wanted to go upstairs, crawl into bed, and forget everything, but even climbing the stairs seemed an unimaginable task. Pulling her legs up onto the couch, she let her head fall against the small throw pillow.

She brought her hand to her face. Her skin felt sticky and cool beneath her fingertips. Her head felt heavy and unnaturally clouded-as if the slightest thought required incredible concentration. If she didn't know better, she'd swear she was hungover though she hadn't had a drop in days. She moved to sit up, the room spinning around her. Her fingertips gripped the edge of the sofa, her feeble attempt to steady herself. Something wasn't right. She could her heart racing, so much so that she half expected to be able to see her blouse rise and fall with each palpitation.

Her hands shook as she reached for the phone, her mind foggy, but one thought still very clear. She needed help and she needed it now. She needed him.