Amelie returned home that evening, her bright smile a sharp contrast to the tense atmosphere in the house. She hugged Don, her familiar scent flooding his senses. "Oh, how I've missed you, Don," she cooed, her eyes twinkling. The joy in her voice tugged at Don's heart. He returned her hug, guilt gnawing at him.

As she busied herself unpacking and sharing anecdotes about her trip, Don watched her. He felt torn between the woman he had promised to love and cherish and the man he had inadvertently fallen for. He watched as Amelie moved around their house, her presence so familiar yet foreign now.

Don continued with his routine, helping Amelie settle in, asking about her trip, laughing at her jokes. But his mind was elsewhere, with a certain someone whose voice still echoed in his ears, whose touch still lingered on his skin.

Over dinner, Amelie noticed Don's distant demeanor. "Is everything alright, Don?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. "You seem...distracted."

Don managed a weak smile, "It's nothing, Amelie. I'm just tired," he reassured her. He wished he could tell her the truth, wished he could explain the storm of emotions brewing inside him. But he couldn't. Not now.

That night, Don lay awake in their shared bed, Amelie's even breaths a constant reminder of the life he was leading. The life he had chosen. The guilt, the love, the fear, and the longing - everything felt like a huge tangled mess.

He turned to look at Amelie, her face peaceful in sleep. His heart ached with the knowledge of his secret, the burden of his silence. Yet, he decided not to tell her anything, fearing what his confession would do to her. To them.

So, he lay there in silence, his heart heavy with the weight of his unspoken words. His love for the boss was a secret he was determined to keep. At least for now.