Upon returning home, the reality of my alternate life rushed back in full force. I was back to being Ron, the devoted husband, leaving Don, the secret lover, behind in that secluded hotel room.

My wife was in the kitchen when I walked in, her back to me as she busied herself with dinner. "How was it?" she asked, not turning around. Her voice was casual, as if she were asking about a normal business trip.

I paused, the taste of deception bitter on my tongue. "It was good," I managed to say, forcing a smile into my voice. "We got a lot done."

Her only response was a hum of acknowledgment, a sound I was all too familiar with. It was her way of closing off the conversation, her silent plea for me to not share any more. It seemed like she sensed the shift in me, the secrets I was now carrying, and she wanted no part in it.

It felt like a physical wall had come up between us, a wall built from my secrets and her unwillingness to confront them. It was an invisible barrier that made the spacious house feel small and suffocating.

I went through the motions of our normal routine, all the while feeling like a stranger in my own home. The distance between us seemed to grow with every passing moment, the silence hanging heavily in the air.

That night, as I lay in bed next to my wife, I couldn't help but wonder about the path I had chosen. My thoughts strayed back to the boss, to the intimacy we had shared, to the secrets we were now bound by. I was living a double life, and the weight of my decisions pressed heavily on me.

[To be continued...]