The Sound of
Him Breathing

He was my husband's best friend, a permanent fixture at our table and completely off-limits. But after one too many drinks, a shared taxi, and my husband passing out on the couch, she followed me into the bedroom. What happened in the dark — her hand over my mouth, my legs around her waist, the wet slide of her fingers inside me as I came undone — was a secret we swore we'd bury by morning. But the next night, she was at the door again, and this time he was awake.