It was never supposed to happen. We had always believed that love, trust, and commitment could carry us through anything. But when my husband’s job was on the line, when the debt collectors wouldn’t stop calling, and when every attempt to find another solution failed, we found ourselves staring at an offer we never imagined considering.

His boss was a powerful man, one who didn’t ask—he offered. Cold, calculated, and confident in the weight of his words. “One night with your wife,” he said, his expression unreadable, “and the problem disappears.”

We told ourselves it was just business. A necessary exchange to secure our future. No emotions. No strings attached. My husband hated it, but he also saw no other way out. And maybe a part of me, buried under the fear and exhaustion, wanted to be the one to fix everything, to take control of a situation that had spiraled beyond our reach.

So, I did it.

One night. That was the agreement. And when it was over, I told myself it was done. The debt was erased, my husband kept his job, and life could return to normal.

But some debts aren’t paid so easily.

I could still feel his boss’s touch lingering on my skin, the way he had looked at me—as if he knew something I didn’t. As if this was just the beginning.

And when I saw the way my husband avoided my gaze, the way he hesitated before holding me, I knew.

We had made a deal.

But we had no idea what it would truly cost us.