My Mistress

I have a secret.

It’s a dark and dirty flaw in my character that I’ve been dying to confess to someone, anyone, just to release me from my guilty hell.

“I have a mistress.”

There. I said it…

I’ve been seeing her for some time now. We often meet late at night, in a darkened room, amidst piles of laundry.

We whisper. We kiss. We plan.

And then she is gone. Was I dreaming?

No… I hear something.

It’s coming from the baby monitor next to the bed.

My daughter is stirring. It’s 3:00am.

Another voice, soothing her back to sleep. I recognize it.

My wife.

My mistress.

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