It started as something small—stolen glances, lingering touches, unspoken tension that built up over time. I never meant for it to happen. I told myself it was harmless at first, that the late-night meetings, the whispered conversations, the way he looked at me when no one else was around—none of it really meant anything. But deep down, I knew better.

My boss is twenty years older than me, a man with a reputation for being powerful and respected. He has a lovely wife, the kind of woman who seems perfect in every way—graceful, intelligent, devoted. And his children, bright-eyed and innocent, adore him. I’ve seen the pictures on his desk, the birthday cards taped to his office wall. He has everything a man could want. And yet, he chose me.

At first, it thrilled me. The secrecy, the danger, the way he made me feel like the most important person in the world when we were alone. But as time passed, the guilt crept in. Every time I see his wife’s name flash across his phone, every time I hear him talk about a family vacation he’ll take without me, I feel it tightening around my chest.

I know this can’t last. I know I should end it. But every time I try to walk away, he pulls me back in with promises, with soft words, with the kind of attention I never knew I craved.

I don’t know how this ends. But I know it can’t end well.