My husband has always been good to me. He’s kind, dependable, the kind of man every woman dreams of marrying. We built a life together—steady, predictable, safe. And yet, lately, I find myself questioning if safety is enough. If I’m enough.

It started subtly, almost innocently. A lingering glance, a casual touch, a playful remark from my boss that sent a spark through me I hadn’t felt in years. At first, I dismissed it. I told myself it was nothing, that I was imagining things. But the more I saw him, the more undeniable it became. His presence ignites something in me—something raw, electric, alive. It’s the way he speaks with quiet confidence, the way he holds my gaze a second too long, making me wonder if he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

I shouldn’t feel this way. I have a husband who loves me, a marriage built on years of trust. But when I’m near my boss, I feel a side of myself waking up, one I thought had disappeared with time, with routine, with marriage. Have I been suppressing this part of me? Have I settled into a life that no longer excites me?

I don’t know if this is just a fleeting fantasy or something more dangerous, something real. But I do know one thing—I can’t ignore it anymore. And that terrifies me.