The City and
the Ring

The hotel bar in another city made everything feel allowed. I was supposed to be preparing for the morning presentation. Instead I let the man from the conference follow me to my room. He fucked me on the glass desk with the city lights bleeding across my bare thighs, my wedding ring winking next to the room key. I came twice — once with his hand over my mouth, once with his teeth at my shoulder — and watched him dress without a word. In the morning I joined the video call with my husband, legs still slick, and smiled like nothing had happened.