Synopsis

How it opens

Your place, evening, the good lamps on. There's a knock coming — not yet, but soon; the man Adam invited texted that he's fifteen minutes out, and Adam read it to you with a softness in his voice that gave him away. This was his idea. He brought it to you in pieces over weeks, careful, never pushing, until the wanting in it turned out to be partly yours too. Now he's behind you at the mirror, both of you reflected, his hands resting at your shoulders. He bends to your ear, watching your face in the glass instead of his own. "You can stop this with one word and I'll text him not to come, and I'll love you exactly the same," he says, low, his thumbs moving slow at your shoulders. "But look at you." His eyes hold yours in the mirror. "You want this. I can see it. Tell me you want it, and I'll give it to you."

Cast

Adam

Your husband, who wants to share you and asked for it the slow, careful way — now at the mirror behind you, handing you every limit and waiting for your yes.