Caroline, battling to fully open her eyes, stood at the sink in her en suite. She had had a fitful sleep despite the alcohol she'd consumed, or perhaps because of it. Staring back at her in the mirror was a Caroline she didn't fully recognise. Her eyes felt as dry and bloodshot as they looked and the lingering remnants of her make-up further highlighted how she'd had fallen into bed with minimum effort when she'd stumbled home. At least her headache was down to a dull throb thanks to all the water she'd drunk throughout the night.

Less than impressed by what she saw in the mirror, Caroline gingerly reached into the shower to turn it on. As she waited for the water to fully warm, she stripped off and decided to clean her face. Bending over the sink to splash water on her cheeks, her breasts brushed the edge of the washbasin, the cold porcelain making her nipples harden on contact. She gasped at the discomfort, covering them with a warming arm, their tenderness a swift reminder of the desire that had been building in her body since she spotted Kate outside the cinema. Kate had cut a striking figure in her new waistcoat, not that Caroline had mentioned it; she was too busy trying not to ogle the way it presented Kate's shapely breasts to bring attention to it. Them. It. She rolled her bloodshot eyes at herself in the mirror, wondering how a grown woman found herself in this situation.

She finished washing her face and stepped into the warmth of the shower. Closing her eyes, the vision of Kate from the night before painted itself onto the back of her eyelids. Caroline gripped the cool tiles while the heat from Kate's desire fired up every cell in her body.

It had been like this all night. She'd undressed and collapsed on the bed, grateful for the alcohol coursing through her system dulling her senses to her sharp desire, but as it had worn off, she'd replayed every second of the evening's close. Her dreams had been filled with Kate; kissing Kate, touching Kate, being touched. She had been irrevocably turned on and it unsettled her. Just the thought of Kate caused her blood to flow south and slick moisture pooled between her legs.

As she washed her hair, she was aware of the smooth slide of soap bubbles down her shoulders and torso. Showers were normally functional rather than erotic, but today, all she could feel was Kate's fingers cascading over her body. The longer she stood under the running water, the more she fantasised about what would have happened if she hadn't stopped it when she did. The kissing had been arousing enough, but when Kate had caressed her neck with her lips and teeth, Caroline had been ready for anything. The more she thought about where it could have headed, the stronger her body throbbed, wanting urgent contact. Needing contact.

Seeking release, she reached for the showerhead and removed it from its cradle, fumbling with its dial to make the water pulse before moving it down between her legs. In a flash she was back on that dark street, coloured lights skating over smooth dark skin as she pushed Kate up against the shop window. The cool of the glass felt ceramic under her fingers as she imagined her hand seeking the soft flesh of Kate's breast, Kate's nipple hard and her response electrifying. The sounds Kate made as Caroline played with her nipple made Caroline's hips move. She could feel Kate's hands scrabbling to open Caroline's belt, then the jeans, until Kate's long fingers slipped into her knickers, reaching though soft curls until they found Caroline's wetness. Hips moving to match the rhythm of Kate's fingers, Caroline arched into the contact, feeling the steam of Kate's breath on her neck, Kate's hand on her breast, Kate's fingers pushing her to the edge. It wasn't long before Caroline cried out "Kaaate," gasping for air while her body, rigid and shaking with ecstasy, found its way home. It took a few moments, but Caroline gradually brought herself back to the bathroom, grateful that after so many false starts in her dreaming, she had finally managed to relieve some of her tension.

When she stepped out of the shower, it was with more mental clarity than she'd had all night, but it wasn't until she was drying herself with the fluffy towel that she remembered that she needed to rescue her car. She screwed up her face. The thought of retracing her steps so literally and so soon after the night before offered mental complications she would rather avoid. She even contemplated calling Kate to meet her, but quickly dispensed with the idea. What on earth would she say? She could feel the blush warming up her chest at the thought of it. Was she going to be able to look Kate in the eye without blushing? Would Kate be able to tell she'd thought of her when she masturbated this morning? God, she had no idea what she was doing but she recognised the animal magnetism of Kate was growing stronger.

It was midday when Caroline returned from collecting the Jeep to find John's car in her preferred spot on the drive. The sight of it mercilessly drained thoughts of Kate from her consciousness in an instant. She intentionally pulled in close beside the green heap to make it tight for him to get into the driver's side; if she was going to be inconvenienced by his pile of junk, she was going to goad him with her shiny new car.

She couldn't fathom what he was doing in the house. She was not sure what to expect but presumed he was up to no good. To her knowledge, he hadn't been inside since their blow-up. She took a few deep breaths to calm her rising anger as she entered. She didn't want him there. It had taken her weeks to find some sort of accommodation with her lot, to manage the humiliation of being cuckolded by him. She was only just starting to have some tenuous grasp on her new sense of self and Kate had shredded it the previous night. She felt scattered to the wind, grasping at the wisps of smoke of her identity. She didn't feel solid enough to grapple with old enemies on battlefields she'd left behind. She gritted her teeth, tapping the steering wheel with her hands as she pulled her shield tightly around herself. With a heavy sigh she grabbed her bag and entered the fray.

Without having to look hard, she spotted John in the family room, with his back to her. The boys were on the couch, engrossed in a Mario Cart game. When no one acknowledged her presence, she emotionlessly made it known.

"John."

Startled, he turned to her, looking as guilty as a thief caught in the shadows of the night, clutching a black plastic garbage bag stuffed with God knows what.

"You mad cc…" John swallowed the next few words for the benefit of his sons who stopped their game, taking it all in with terrified expressions, civilians who'd wandered unwittingly into the war zone, likely to be collateral damage. "Where's my stuff?"

"I chucked the lot of it," she paused, hoping to give him the impression it was all gone, and a frisson of spiteful joy rushed through her as she watched his face fall. Seeing her words have the desired effect, she continued with a sly smile. "Relax. It's all in the spare room. Help yourself. I can give you a box or two if you prefer...wouldn't want to see that flimsy bag break on the drive before you get it into your car."

Caroline breezed past him and went into the kitchen to see if he'd removed anything from there she cared about. Seeing nothing out of place, she pulled a glass out of the cabinet and she filled it with water from the tap. She could feel the edges of her hangover resurfacing and decided she needed to rehydrate if she had to contend with John much longer. By the time she'd finished her drink, he'd come back, dragging a second bag of what she assumed was clothing behind him. She followed him down the hallway to the front door, enjoying watching him struggle with the bags, silently wondering when he lost his dignity and why she hadn't noticed before. She wanted to tease him about them being his classy matching set of luggage but decided against it as she didn't want to prolong his sortie. She wouldn't have minded if he took all his things; she just hoped he'd taken enough with him so he wouldn't be back anytime soon.

She intended to get his house key from him but before she had a chance to ask him for it, he started down the steps only to stop as her brand-spanking new Jeep registered with him. He had heard about it from the boys but hadn't seen it until that moment. He realised how pathetic his dumpy BMW looked sitting next to the black behemoth, causing a wave of impotency to wash over him.

"You are fff...unbelievable. How much did you get for the Volvo?" he roared. "The minute I'm gone you go and do this, without consulting me!"

"Don't. Don't even go there." Caroline could feel her blood beginning to boil and paused before speaking again, trying to remain calm and play it strategically. "I'm not sure how you think you still have any say where I'm concerned," she sniped, eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms.

"I can't believe you bought American! There was nothing wrong with the Volvo. Did you ever think I might have wanted it instead of mine?" Caroline could see the anger draining from his face as he spoke, his voice lifting into a well-known whine. She wondered what was causing the shift in him. Whenever they'd fought in the past, he had usually held out longer but not this time. The tires on his indignation were deflating quickly.

"Again, I'm not sure where you think you'd have that right, after going off with her. You've made your choice." She noticed him wince as her words slid into his chest like daggers. She thought she spied a look of contrition under the days old stubble that was looking far more grey and white than before he left. After all their years together, she could read his body language and knew his sad, defeated look. Before he had a chance to say anything, she told him bluntly that if he wanted anymore of his things he could text or email her the list and she'd pack it up for him to save him the trouble. She turned and headed back into the house, the green door a modern portcullis that kept out the unwanted elements closing with a resounding thud behind her.

After debriefing the boys about their visit with their dad, she set off to see how much John had left in the guest room. Passing Lawrence's room, she got a strong whiff of teenage boy and decided it was time to shovel out all his piles of dirty clothes and change his bed sheets. Already feeling grimy from the encounter with John, she moved to the linen closet to grab the laundry basket. While she was standing there, scratching her head, William came up the stairs.

"Everything all right?"

"I think I'm going crazy. What happened to all the toilet paper I just bought? You don't think Lawrence has eaten it, do you? An eight-pack can't just disappear in a couple of days."

"I pulled a roll from it for our bathroom yesterday and tucked a second one under our sink," William responded. "There were six left."

"You don't think your dad…" It was such an absurd thought Caroline couldn't even finish it. She shook her head, embarrassed for having started down that path until William picked up where she left off.

"He was complaining after Judith texted him to pick up some things on the way back. He did mention wine and loo roll specifically." She noticed William's face turn red but couldn't tell if it was anger or disappointment. "Are you going to say anything to him?"

"It's not worth it," she said as she pulled him into a hug. As they parted, she quipped for William's benefit, "Besides, he's her pain in the arse now, so maybe she needs it more."

With the clothes that formerly carpeted Lawrence's room spinning away in the machine, Caroline turned on the kettle and settled onto a kitchen stool to let her thoughts drift back to Kate. She was just starting to remember the delicious texture of Kate's skin under her fingers when Celia let herself in with little fanfare and headed to the kitchen. Caroline rued the intrusion; she preferred to be alone with her thoughts of Kate.

"Was that John's car? Did he actually spend time with the boys? Where were you all yesterday?" Celia's questions came in rapid-fire succession, without pausing long enough for Caroline to respond.

Used to her mother's strategic bombardment, Caroline mentally unpacked the questions one at a time. "Let's see. Yes—thought the car was obvious. Yes, he took them to Bridlington for the night. He's still not taken them to the flat he shares with Judith." She shifted in her chair, uneasy with the discussion of Judith and her potentially meeting the boys. "Can't tell if he's protecting them from her or the other way around but my guess is, he's still not going to win father of the year anytime soon. Want a brew?" Caroline hoped to distract her mum from the fact she didn't answer her last question.

Celia nodded. She was hoping for a cup of tea and a chance to spend a little time with her daughter. "Have the boys even met her yet?"

"Nope. I thought they would have by now, but who knows. I'm certainly not going to ask. I suspect he's finding that greener grass still needs mowing." She smiled slightly at the pun, her mind instantly flitting to the thought of Kate mowing hers and she squirmed a little in her seat as her morning activities flashed through her mind, until Celia pulled her back to the present.

"As I learned from watching your father flit about, eventually mowing that new lawn gets old. Hope he's not sniffing around you again."

"No. No, just removing some of his stuff and a few…toiletries shall we say," Caroline responded with a wry smile.

"Good. You need to think long and hard when he comes back hat in hand." Celia looked around to see if there were any biscuits on offer. Seeing none, she turned her gaze back to Caroline, who seemed a little quieter than usual. "Where did you say you were yesterday? Seemed like you were out an awfully long time."

"Went to see Les Mis, the movie, with another teacher. It was so long we needed drinks afterwards to recover. How was your dinner with Muriel?" Caroline hoped that topic would serve as a distraction.

"I had to listen to her drone on about her new place in Corfu until I thought I couldn't stand another word about it. She never tires of talking about her perfect life and perfect children. I didn't tell her about you and John." Caroline turned to hide her smirk, knowing exactly why her mum wouldn't have talked to Muriel about her separation.

Celia took her last swallow of tea. "Who did you say you were with again? It wasn't that handsome history teacher by chance. I watched him watch you at the last student quiz night. You know the one, when William's team won? I think you'd be trading up from John with him."

"Well, John was in rare form today. Slinking around with his tail between his legs grabbing a few things. Good riddance to bad rubbish. Complete with bin bags," Caroline redirected. She wanted nothing more than to head upstairs for a nap and an opportunity to work out what she was going to do about Kate, but she knew her mum wouldn't be shifted until she was ready.

"Have you talked about divorce yet? Isn't it time?" Celia worried that if Caroline didn't fully flush John from her life he'd eventually get his slippers back under the bed. It had taken a few months for Celia to adjust to the thought of her daughter being a divorcee but the more she thought about it, the more she believed Caroline could do better. "What did he say?"

"Mostly he just raged about the Jeep," Caroline said in a clipped tone. "I couldn't tell if his objection was to it being American made or the thought that he had no say in my buying it."

"Why did you buy American? I hate to say, but I agree with him on that. Couldn't you have bought a Jag?" Celia asked as she rinsed her mug at the sink and turned to look at her daughter. She often wondered where she got her natural beauty. Celia would have given anything to have that natural pink in her cheeks without makeup. Looking more closely, she wondered if her daughter was glowing more than she had in years.

"Oh, not you too," Caroline said, following her mum to the sink. "Perhaps if they made an SUV. Maybe next time. For now I need something to cart Lawrence and all his chums to rugby."

Before Celia could respond, Caroline thanked her for the visit and said she had work to do but as soon as Celia headed back to the granny flat, Caroline headed upstairs to the sanctuary of her bedroom.

Closing the door quietly behind her, Caroline allowed herself the luxury of a few minutes alone. She flopped on the bed, ennui settling on her skin for a minute before she stood to pace restlessly around her room. It had been a long time since she'd been so conflicted. She was even tempted to bash her way through her confusion with a SWOT analysis before she realised how ridiculous a decision process that would be for whether she should go to bed with someone.

She dragged a chair over to the window and sat, chin resting on her hand, staring out the window. Her eyes followed the late afternoon adventures of neighbourhood cats around the garden, birds hopping from tree to tree and the sound of a distant mower providing the aural accompaniment while she rolled through various scenarios in her head. After a while it had become clear that there were no scenarios that included Kate that were easy, nor a good idea. She was relieved, however, that Kate had initiated everything last night, and her text later on had put the terrifying possibility of a staff member harassment complaint to bed.

What struck her was that while she had cast herself as straight for the past twenty years, she knew deep down that she wasn't. The time was coming that she was going to have to face that fact. The thought of telling her mother about it made her heart pound. As for the boys... well she hoped William would be okay, but she had no idea about Lawrence. And what about custody? Would that enable John to get custody? She didn't think so, but perhaps she'd better check. She'd call a lawyer in the morning.

While her mind was running through every eventuality, both the good and the terrible, her hand caressed her thigh, causing desire to thrum once again through her blood; the pull of Kate was constant. Accustomed to burying her own needs, this attraction to Kate had risen to the surface and now threatened to upend her entire existence. The more she thought about it, the more this yearning for connection, for touch, for Kate, pushed to the front of her mind. Not normally given to spontaneity, last night had shown her just how close lust was to overtaking her normal reticence. She knew, too, that trusting Kate was a key part of it.

Lust aside, just how did she feel about Kate? A warm smile settled on her face as she thought of Kate's generosity, kindness and humour. She was very lucky someone as gorgeous and kind as Kate was interested in her. A vision of Kate walking down the corridor at work sashayed into her mind and all of a sudden her blood raced and her mouth went dry. There was going to be no escape. She did trust Kate and was driven to explore this relationship, to explore Kate.

She pulled out her mobile phone and thought about texting Kate. Or perhaps she should call instead? Indecision, a rare and unsettling state, stilled her fingers. She was due to meet Kate tomorrow in a meeting with the Language Department. Who knew how that was going to go. She writhed on her chair, feeling blood going south again and a throb started up between her legs. She sighed. If she wasn't going to get together with Kate, she was going to need to buy more batteries for her toys because she was going to need more relief.

Authors' Note:

katieDingo joins me in thanking all of you for your patience as this chapter has taken us longer to post than we'd hoped thanks to Covid-19 wreaking havoc with our respective jobs. We hope you enjoy this chapter and are all safe and well. We're just happy that this precanon story is occurring in a time before social distancing was required as Caroline and Kate are truly poised to get their 'fling' into full swing and don't need anymore excuses to stay apart.