As the aftermath of their encounter settled, Jon felt his eyes start to droop. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. It was like he had run a marathon and then climbed a mountain. Madison noticed his fatigue and leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“You really should get some sleep, Jon,” she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves.

Jon felt the weight of his eyelids and the heaviness in his limbs, but the thought of her leaving filled him with a sudden panic. He clung to her, his arms tightening around her waist. “Does that mean you’re leaving?” he asked, his voice a mix of hope and dread.

Madison sighed and leaned down to kiss him gently. “I have to, Jon. But I don’t want to. You know I don’t.” Her words were a whisper, a confession that seemed to hold the weight of the world. For a moment, he could feel the truth of her words, the ache in her chest that mirrored his own.

Jon nodded, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath. When he opened them again, there was a determination there that hadn’t been there before. “When can I see you again?” he asked, his voice strong and sure.

Madison’s heart skipped a beat. This was the question she had been hoping for, the one she had been waiting for him to ask. She knew that it meant he was in this with her, that he did not think this was a mistake he had made during a moment of vulnerability. She leaned in and kissed him again, her eyes shining with affection. “When do you want to see me again, Jon?” she whispered, her voice a caress against his skin.

Jon’s answer was immediate, the words spilling out before he could even think. “As soon as possible,” he replied, no longer afraid to be vulnerable with her. The fear of rejection had vanished, replaced by a desperate need to be close to her, to feel her warmth and her touch. Madison’s smile grew, a slow, sensual curve of her lips that made his heart race.

“How about this afternoon? Will that give you enough time to rest?” she suggested, her eyes holding his with a fiery intensity that made him feel like he could conquer the world. “I’ll could come by around three, after I finish up with Chris’s physical therapy appointment. Will you be here?”

Jon’s eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect. “Yes, yes, absolutely,” he said, his voice a little too eager, a little too desperate. He didn’t care if it sounded needy. Madison’s presence was like a drug, and he was already craving his next hit. The thought of her coming to him, to this little Airbnb that had become their sanctuary, made his heart race.

When Madison finally arrived that afternoon, the chemistry between them was like a live wire, snapping and crackling with electricity. They barely made it to the bed before their clothes were scattered across the floor, and their bodies were tangled together in a dance of passion that seemed to have no end. They moved with an urgency that was palpable, as if every moment they had together could be their last.

Over the next week, Madison managed to slip away from her responsibilities and visit Jon at the Airbnb daily. The frequency of their encounters was matched only by their intensity. They fucked with a ferocity that seemed to defy logic, as if they were trying to fill a void in each other that had been there for far too long. On the sofa, on the living room floor, in the shower, they devoured one another like newlyweds on their honeymoon. The large box of condoms Jon had bought their first night together was soon empty, a testament to their insatiable desire for one another.

Meanwhile, Andrea's calls and texts grew more persistent, the unread notifications piling up on Jon's phone like unpaid bills. But every time he thought about answering, about facing the woman he had shared a life with, he felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. Madison had become his escape, his sanctuary from the wreckage of his marriage. He wasn't ready for anything that might hinder that, nor anything that might end his stay at their sanctuary love nest, at least not yet. So he ignored the calls, telling himself that he needed time, that he needed space.

In the quiet of the Airbnb, Jon's thoughts swirled around like leaves in a storm, each one more tumultuous than the last. He did know he couldn't keep this up forever. The guilt was a constant companion, whispering in his ear that he was a terrible husband, a terrible friend. But when Madison was with him, the guilt was drowned out by the symphony of their shared passion, by the sweetness of her whispers, the heat of her skin. It was a dangerous dance, one that could only end in heartache and betrayal, but for now, he was too caught up in the music to care.

The room was suffused with the scent of their love making, a mix of sweat and lust that clung to the air like a thick fog. Madison lay on top of him, her body a warm, soft weight that made him feel more alive than he had in years. Her breath was a gentle rhythm against his neck, and her heartbeat echoed the drumming of his own. The sun slanted through the blinds, casting a pattern of light and shadow across the bed, playing over their tangled limbs like a lover's caress.

But the moment was shattered by the harsh, jarring sound of Jon's phone ringing. He tensed, his hand shooting out to silence it before it could ruin the spell. Madison lifted her head, her eyes questioning. "It's Andrea," he murmured, his voice thick with regret.

Madison sensed his turmoil, the conflict that was etched so clearly on his face. She sat up, the sheets falling away from her naked body like a waterfall of silk. Her eyes searched his, a silent question hanging in the air. Without a word, she began to massage his shoulders, her fingers pressing into the tense muscles with a gentle insistence. It was a silent offer of comfort, a reminder that she was there, that she understood.

"Jon," she finally said, her voice a soft caress in the quiet of the room. "It’s been a week now. Do you think you should call her back?”

Jon groaned, his hand rubbing his face. "What would I even say?" he asked, the weight of his world pressing down on his shoulders.

Madison's touch grew more insistent, her fingers moving in circles over his tense neck. "Do you think you want to try and work things out with her?" she asked, her voice tentative.

Jon's heart sank at the question, unsure of how he felt, and unsure of whether this was even a subject he should discuss with Madison. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. "I don't really know," he admitted finally, the words sticking in his throat like a mouthful of sand.

"You can talk to me, Jon," Madison replied, her soft voice a shelter from the storm of emotions raging inside him. She moved her hand to cup his cheek, turning his face towards hers. Her eyes searched his, looking for answers he wasn't sure he had. "I care about you, you know that right? I know things feel complicated, but I’m here for you."

Jon hesitated for a moment, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on his chest like a boulder. Then, with a sigh, he began to slowly open up to Madison. "I miss my kids," he said, the words spilling out like a confession. "I miss my home."

Madison’s heart clenched at his words, and she pulled him closer, her naked body pressing against his. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly as if she could somehow absorb his pain. She felt some of his tension melt away, his breathing becoming deeper and steadier in her embrace.

After a few moments of quiet comfort, she worked up the courage to ask the question that had been on her mind. "Jon," she began hesitantly, her voice a soft whisper in his ear, "do you miss her?"

Jon took a long pause before answering, his chest rising and falling with each measured breath. The room seemed to hold its breath alongside them, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Madison’s fingers traced delicate patterns on his skin, waiting patiently for his response.

“I miss the marriage I thought I had,” Jon finally replied, his voice a hollow echo in the quiet room. Madison’s grip on him tightened slightly, but she said nothing, allowing him the space to continue. “But that turned out to be a sham.” The words hung in the air, a revelation of his inner turmoil.

Madison’s touch grew more gentle, her fingertips lightly stroking his skin in a silent message of comfort. She knew the pain of feeling lost and betrayed, but she also knew that she was the last person who should be offering Jon marital advice. Instead, she focused on the here and now, the raw emotions that lay between them.

Leaning over him, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek, her breath warm against his ear. "Maybe you should talk to her. Just to see where things stand."

Her voice was a gentle nudge, but it was enough to stir a tornado of fear and doubt within him. He knew she was probably right, but the thought of facing the woman that tore his heart out filled him with dread. Madison felt his tension and sat up, her gaze searching his face. "What are you afraid of?"

Jon took a deep breath, his eyes avoiding hers. "I'm afraid of losing you," he confessed, the words heavy in the air. Madison's hand stilled on his chest, and she leaned in closer. "What do you mean?"

"If I go back to her, and…..if she somehow convinces me to try again, what happens to us?" His voice was a whisper, the fear in his eyes stark and raw.

What Jon failed to realize is Madison had already played out this exact scenario in her mind countless times over the past week. She had imagined Andrea begging Jon to come back to her, convincing him to come home. Madison had imagined Jon telling her it was fun for the short while it lasted, but he had to go back to his wife now, back to his real life.

The thought alone made tears well in Madison’s eyes. “What would you want to happen, Jon?” Madison asked, her voice suddenly small, the tremor in her tone unmistakable. She looked away from Jon as she wiped her eyes, a futile attempt to hide her emotions, afraid to hear his answer.

Jon sat up abruptly, his eyes wide with realization. Madison’s fear, her vulnerability in that moment, hit him like a ton of bricks. He had been so caught up in his own anger and confusion that he had completely missed how Madison might be feeling thru all of this. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world.

"Madison, look at me," he said, his voice firm but gentle. She turned to face him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I know you’ll never be mine, and I know this probably sounds completely crazy, but if I have to choose, I’d pick you, in a heartbeat. I don’t think I could consider working things out with Andrea if it meant no longer being able to see you."

The words seemed to knock the air from Madison’s lungs. She stared at Jon in disbelief, her chest rising and falling rapidly. And then, without warning, the dam broke. Happy tears streamed down her face as she threw herself into his arms, her body shaking with muted sobs. Jon held her tightly, feeling her warmth and her love wash over him like a wave. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated emotion, a moment that neither of them had expected to share.

Madison’s hands were like butterfly wings against Jon’s face, tenderly caressing his cheeks and jaw as she leaned in, pressing her forehead to his. “That doesn’t sound crazy at all. Not to me it doesn’t,” she managed to say as she sniffled her fading tears. Her voice was thick with emotion, and Jon felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with their recent lovemaking. It was a warmth that came from knowing that he wasn’t alone, that he was with someone who truly cared for him.

“I’m not going anywhere if you don’t want me to,” Madison told him, her voice stronger now, the tears slowly receding. “No matter what you decide with her, I will still be here for you,” she added, her eyes searching his, looking for any sign of doubt or hesitation.

Jon’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. He had never felt this way about anyone before, not even Andrea in the early days of their marriage. Madison was like a wildfire that had consumed him from the inside out, and he had no idea how to put it out without losing himself in the process. He kissed her, a gentle press of his lips to hers, feeling the tremor of her sigh as she melted into the embrace.

When she left that evening, the room felt cold and empty without her. Jon sat on the bed, his thoughts racing. He had to call Andrea. He had been putting it off for too long. Madison had been right, he couldn’t keep avoiding his wife forever. He picked up his phone and stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over her name for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, with a deep breath, he hit the call button. The phone rang once, twice, and on the second ring, she answered. “Hey,” Jon said, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears.

“Hi,” came the tentative reply, her voice tight with a tension that was palpable even over the phone. “How have you been?”

Jon took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “I’ve been okay,” he lied. “How about you?”

“I’ve been better,” Andrea replied, her voice already beginning to tremble with tears. The sound of her pain hit him like a punch to the gut, but he quickly reminded himself of her betrayal, the way she had shattered their trust and their vows. The guilt was still there, a sour taste in his mouth, but it was quickly overwhelmed by anger and resentment.

“How are the kids?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual as he changed the subject. It was a cold move, one that made him feel like a stranger in his own skin, but he needed the distance.

Andrea’s voice grew small, a clear indicator that she knew what he was doing. “They miss you, Jon. They’ve been asking when you’re coming home.” Her words were a knife, twisting in the wound of his guilt. He knew that she was really asking about his intentions, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer her unspoken question.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, his voice gruff. It was a non-answer, a stall tactic, but it was all he had. The silence on the other end of the line was deafening, filled only with the sound of his own racing heart.

“Jon,” she said, her voice tight, “are you saying you don’t know when you’re coming home? Or are you saying you don’t know if you’re coming home at all?”

Jon swallowed hard, the weight of his words suddenly heavy on his chest. “I just don’t know right now,” he repeated, the words sticking to his tongue like glue. He heard the desperation in her voice, the pain of his absence echoing through the line.

On the other end of the phone, Andrea’s composure crumbled. A soft, strangled sound escaped her before she broke into sobs. The sound of her breaking down was like a knife to Jon’s heart, each tear she shed a drop of his own guilt. He had never wanted to hurt her, never wanted to be the cause of this kind of pain.

Yet, as the seconds ticked by, the anger that had been simmering beneath the surface boiled over. It was her betrayal that had led him here, her infidelity that had shattered the illusion of their happy marriage. The pain of her affair was a fresh wound, and her tears felt like salt being rubbed into it. He clenched his fists, his jaw tight as he fought to keep his voice steady.

"I need to see you," she begged through her sobs, her voice a desperate plea that made him feel like a monster for his own coldness. "Please, Jon. Just tell me where you are, and I'll come to you."

Jon felt a twinge of something—guilt, pity, he wasn't sure—and sighed heavily. "Okay, I'll stop by the house," he said, his voice gruff. "But just for a short while to talk. I’m not staying."

Andrea's sobs turned into choked gasps of relief. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, Jon. I'll be here."

The line went dead, and Jon stared at his phone, the weight of his decision heavy in his hand. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. Madison had been his escape, but now he had to face reality. With a sense of dread that was almost palpable, he showered and dressed, the scent of her lingering on his skin like a ghostly reminder of what he was leaving behind.

An hour later, Jon pulled into his driveway, the headlights of his car cutting through the evening shadows. His house looked the same as always, but the sight of it felt oddly foreign, like a set piece from a movie he had once watched but no longer recognized. The porch light was on, casting a warm, welcoming glow, but it couldn't chase away the coldness that had settled into his chest.

Andrea was waiting for him at the door, her figure framed by the soft light spilling into the night. She wore the sundress he remembered telling her once was his favorite, the one with a delicate pattern of flowers that brought out the warmth in her eyes. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, the way he used to tell her he loved. It was a clear attempt to rekindle the spark of their past, to coax him back into the safety net of their marriage.

As Jon approached, the tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. She held the door open for him, her hand trembling slightly as it rested on the doorknob. The gesture was filled with hope and desperation, a silent plea for forgiveness and reconciliation. Despite the anger he felt, a part of him was still drawn to her, to the life they had built together.

But when she reached out to hug him, Jon stepped back, his arms awkwardly hanging at his sides. The rejection was clear, a stark contrast to the warm embrace he had shared with Madison only hours earlier. "Where are the kids?" he asked, his voice cold and distant.

"I had my sister take them for the night," Andrea said, her voice quivering with nerves. "I just needed us to talk, without any distractions." She looked up at him, her eyes searching his for a glimmer of understanding. "I'm sorry," she added, her voice barely above a whisper, "but I had to, Jon. I needed to be able to talk to you."

Jon felt a pang of sadness, knowing that the house was empty of the laughter and chaos that had once filled it. It was a stark reminder of what he had lost, of the distance that now stood between him and his family. He took a deep breath and stepped into the house, the door closing behind him with a finality that made him flinch.

"I see," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "And what did you tell your sister?"

"I told her everything. She knows what I did. That I ruined my marriage, my life," she whispered, looking down at the floor. "My whole family knows, Jon. My parents, my sisters, my brother. They can't believe what I've done."

Andrea looked up, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "They're all furious with me, Jon. My mom won't even speak to me. My dad said I threw away the best thing that ever happened to me." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "You know how much they all loved you. Now, they can't stand the sight of me."

Jon felt his chest tighten with pity, but his mind remained a battlefield of conflicting emotions. He knew her pain was genuine, but he couldn't shake the anger that still burned within him. He had never seen her so broken, so vulnerable. Part of him wanted to hold her, to tell her it would be okay, but the memory of her betrayal was too fresh, too raw.

"They're right," she continued, her voice barely audible. "I don't blame them for hating me. I hate myself."

Her words hung in the air, a heavy silence following. Jon's heart clenched in his chest, but the anger was still there, a simmering ember that hadn't fully been snuffed out. "Where did I go wrong, Andie? What did he give you that I couldn't?" he finally asked, the question escaping him before he could stop it.

Andrea looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock. "Jon, no," she said, shaking her head. "It was never about you not being enough." Her voice was thick with despair, the pain in her eyes a somber reminder of the woman he had once loved.

“That’s bullshit. Of course it was,” Jon replied incredulously. “All of those nights you pushed me away, I know now it was because you were pulling him in. When it comes down to it, you picked him over me, what I assume now was countless times. I want to know why. I want the truth. I want to know what made you pick him over me,” Jon asks, his own eyes now welling with tears.

Andrea’s expression crumpled like paper. “It wasn’t that, Jon. I swear to you, it wasn’t that I didn’t love you, or that you weren’t enough,” she replied, her voice breaking.

Jon’s eyes searched hers, looking for the truth. He needed to understand what had led her to make that choice, to tear their lives apart. “Then why?” he pressed, his voice raw. “Why did you do it?”

Andrea’s shoulders slumped, the weight of her confession bearing down on her. “Because I’m a terrible wife, Jon. I’m a selfish person. I took you for granted,” she said, her voice cracking. “I convinced myself that I was unhappy with my life, unhappy with us, that I needed something more. But the truth is it was all just a lie. I lied to myself, so I could justify it to myself. You were always there for me, always more than enough. And I threw it away because I’m too stupid to know what’s good for me. I didn’t think about how much it would hurt you, how much I could lose you. I didn’t think at all. I just...I just did it, because I could. And now I’ve lost everything. And it’s all my fault,” she finished, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jon stared at her, his heart heavy with the burden of her words. He had never seen her like this before, so defeated, so broken. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if he could ever forgive her. But he knew he needed to know everything. He needed to understand the depths of her infidelity to decide if there was any hope of fixing their marriage.

“Andrea, I need to know some things,” he said, his voice shaking with the weight of his emotions. “I’m hoping if I ask you some questions, that you’ll be honest with me, no matter what.”

Her eyes searched his, the fear and hope in them a silent testament to the gravity of the situation. She nodded, her voice a tremulous whisper. “Yes Jon, of course. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I will never lie to you again, I swear to you.”

Jon took a deep breath, bracing himself for the worst. “Was there ever anyone before him?” The question hung in the air, a dark cloud threatening to rain down on the last shreds of their shattered trust.

Andrea's eyes searched his, her face a mask of regret. "Jon, I swear to you on everything that I hold dear, there was never anyone else before or after. He was the only one, and even saying that makes me sick. It was a mistake, a terrible, unforgivable mistake," she said, her voice shaking with sincerity.

Jon's jaw tightened, his eyes never leaving hers as he processed her confession. He felt the tension in the room begin to ease slightly, his body visibly relaxing as the tide of anger receded. It was a small relief, but one he hadn't allowed himself to hope for. He had been bracing himself for a list of indiscretions, a catalog of his failures. The fact that it had been a single affair was a small mercy in the grand scheme of things. But it was still a mercy he wasn't sure he wanted.

He took another deep breath, steeling himself for the next question. "How long?" he asked, his voice low and hard. "How long were you fucking him?"

Andrea's eyes filled with tears, and she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She reached out to touch his arm, but Jon flinched away, his eyes flashing with anger. "Don't," he said, his voice harsh. "Just tell me."

The room grew silent except for the sound of her ragged breaths. She took a moment to gather herself before speaking. "It started at the company Christmas party…," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The words hung in the air, a leaden confession that seemed to suck all the oxygen from the room. She watched as Jon's expression grew darker, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold in his pain.

Jon’s mind raced as he processed what she had revealed. "Nine months ago? It went on for nine fucking months?" he asked, his voice hollow. The devastation washed over him like a tsunami, leaving him reeling in pain. The betrayal was deep, a festering wound that had been festering for far longer than he could have ever imagined. "That's not a mistake, Andrea," he said through gritted teeth. "One time would have been a mistake. That's a deliberate choice you made, over and over again."

Andrea’s sobs grew louder, her whole body shaking as the reality of her actions hit her like a freight train. She knew that the truth had likely shattered any hope of them finding their way back to each other, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him anymore. "I know," she wailed, her voice cracking. "I know I don’t deserve you, Jon. I never did."

Jon felt a fresh wave of anger wash over him, but he pushed it down. He needed answers, not accusations. "Did you love him?" he asked, his voice tight.

Andrea's sobbing ceased abruptly, and she looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock. She reached out and grabbed his hands before Jon could pull them away, her grip surprisingly strong. "Jon," she said, her voice shaking, "I never loved him. I never loved anyone but you. I swear to you, I swear to everything, that it was only ever you.”

A single tear streaked down Jon's face, a silent rebellion against the wall of stoicism he had built around himself. He didn't want to look at her, didn't want to see the desperation in her eyes, so he stared at their joined hands instead. They were still warm, still familiar, but now they were tainted by the truth she had just confessed. He felt the warmth of her skin against his, and for a brief moment, he was transported back to a time when their touch had been pure, when their love had been unblemished.

"Please, Jon," she sobbed, her grip on his hands tightening. "I know I don't deserve you, I know I've hurt you more than you'll ever be able to forgive me for, but please, just believe me when I say that I've never loved anyone but you. And I never will love anyone but you."

Jon buried his eyes in his hands and wept, a sight that tore through Andrea like a hot knife through butter. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so broken, and the pain it caused her was almost unbearable. She didn't know if she could ever atone for what she had done, but she knew she had to try. Carefully, tentatively, she placed her hands on his shoulders, her touch feather-light. She needed to comfort him, to be there for him, even if it meant watching him walk away from her forever.

This time, Jon didn't push her away. He just stood there, his body trembling with the weight of his sobs. It was a small victory, but it gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for them. "Please, Jon," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Let me say something. Will you listen to me?"

Her voice was so faint that it was almost lost in the quiet of the room, but he heard her. He took his hands away from his face and looked at her, his eyes red and swollen. He nodded, a single tear rolling down his cheek. It was all the invitation she needed.

"I quit my job, Jon. The day after you left," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "When I realized what I had done, that I ruined the only thing in my life that mattered, I cut any ties I had to him." She paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "And I swear to you, no matter what you decide should happen between us, I will never speak to him again. Not a single word, not for the rest of my life."

Jon's eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of deceit, but all he saw was pain and regret. He knew that she was telling the truth, that she likely had burned the bridges of her affair. But was it enough? Could he ever forgive her?

Andrea took a deep, shuddering breath. "Jon, I know that what I did is unforgivable. I know that I've probably destroyed any chance we had of a future together. But if you can find it in your heart to give me another chance, I swear I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will dedicate my life to being the wife you deserved all along. I will do anything, be anything for you, Jon” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

Her eyes searched his, desperate for any sign of forgiveness. "I'll get down on my knees right now and beg you" she whispered, her voice trembling. "And if you tell me no today, I'll beg you again tomorrow, and the day after that, and every day for the rest of my life if that's what it takes. I won’t give up on us. I can’t, Jon. You are the love of my life, and I will never, ever stop fighting for you."

With a sob that seemed to come from her very soul, Andrea threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. For a moment, Jon stood stock still, unsure of what to do. His mind was a tumult of emotions— anger, pain, confusion, doubt— but one thing was clear: he didn't want her to let go. With a sigh that sounded like the release of a thousand tons of weight, he brought his arms up to wrap around her, holding her tightly to him.

Andrea's body trembled against his, her tears soaking his shirt as she wept. She had never felt so small, so desperate, so utterly destroyed. But in Jon's embrace, she found a brief solace, a warmth that she had been desperately longing for since the moment she had realized her mistake. She clung to him like a lifeline, her grip tightening as her sobs grew louder. His touch was familiar, a balm to the wounds of her soul that she had inflicted on herself.

The smell of her hair, once a comfort to him, now brought a bittersweet nostalgia that was almost unbearable. Each inhale filled him with a flood of memories, moments of laughter, of love, of a life that now felt like a distant dream. He had thought he knew her so well, had thought that she was his rock, his anchor. Yet, she had been betraying him, over and over again, for almost a year.

But as the anger began to subside, the sorrow grew stronger. The warmth of her embrace, the softness of her skin, it was all so familiar, so comforting. He had, in fact, missed her, missed her embrace, missed the life they had built together. Yet, the image of her in another man’s arms was like a dagger in his heart, a constant reminder of the trust she had shattered.

Jon felt a rising heat on the back of his neck as he thought about the past nine months. Every time he had pushed Madison away, every time he had denied her advances, it was out of devotion for this woman who now clung to him, begging for forgiveness. The woman who had been fucking someone else behind his back, while he had been faithful, even in the face of almost insurmountable temptation. He couldn't help but feel a burning resentment, not just towards Andrea for her betrayal, but towards himself for his own misplaced loyalty.

As Andrea held Jon tighter in her embrace, Jon’s mind drifted to Madison, and he felt a cold realization. He had devoted himself to Andrea, and in return, Andrea had neglected him, lied to him, and betrayed him with another man. Meanwhile, Jon had only given Madison an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on, and yet Madison worshiped Jon with a reverence that made him feel like the center of her universe. Jon searched his soul for any small semblance of forgiveness he could be ready to give to Andrea, but all he could think about was escaping; escaping from his own home, from the cold embrace of his wife. Escaping back to the warmth and affection of his blue eyed sanctuary.

Andrea felt Jon’s body stiffen in her arms, and she knew that her efforts had failed, that her words had not penetrated his fortress of pain. She looked up at him, hope fading from her eyes as she saw the cold sorrow in his gaze. For her, It was like looking into a mirror, reflecting a future of sadness and regret. With a tremble of despair, she let go of Jon and dropped to her knees, her legs giving way beneath her.

Her wail filled the room, a soul-crushing sound that echoed through the emptiness of their once-happy home. The reality of what she had done, the depth of her betrayal, washed over her like a dark, icy wave. She knew now that she had gone too far, that she had cut Jon too deep to ever mend. Her sobs grew louder, more desperate, as she reached out to him, her voice cracking with the weight of her sorrow. "I'm so sorry," she choked out, over and over again, the words a litany of regret that knew could never be enough. "I'm sorry, Jon. I'm so, so sorry."

“I know you are, Andi," Jon replied softly, the anger in his voice now replaced with sadness that felt like a frigid coldness wrapping her body. "I know," he repeated, his eyes never leaving hers. It was the finality in his tone that crushed her, the cold acceptance that she had lost him, that she had destroyed the one thing she should have held most dear.

He bent down, his hand brushing against her cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped her guard. The tender gesture was almost more than she could bear, a painful contrast against the firmness in his voice. "I need to go now," he said, his voice sure but gentle.

Her eyes searched his, desperate for any sign of something, anything, she could say or do to make him stay. But she knew it was a futile hope. She had hurt him too much, had destroyed too much. With a nod, she released her grip on his legs, her arms falling to her sides as she watched him pull away.

"The kids," she whispered, her voice hoarse from her sobs. "Will you be back to see the kids?"

Jon's heart lurched at the thought of them. He had never missed them more than he did in that moment. "Of course," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll come by this weekend, if that’s ok."

“Jon…this is your home, this is your family. Of course it’s ok. You never have to ask,” Andrea replied sincerely.

Jon nodded, his throat too tight for words. He turned to leave, the heaviness of the conversation weighing on his every step. As he reached for the doorknob, her voice stopped him cold. "I will wait for you, Jon," she called out, her voice echoing through the silent house. "I will always be waiting for you. For the rest of my life."

Jon didn't look back. He couldn't. The pain was far too great. He needed to get out, to breathe, to think. Jon climbed into his truck, and shut the door, his breath suddenly heaving as if he had just gotten his head above water. His hand shook as he pulled out his phone and typed out a simple text message to Madison: "Can I see you?"