Morning light filled the villa like it had nothing to hide. My morals pry selfishness?

I sat at the long white table facing the ocean, a cup of coffee cooling between my hands. My eyes burned. Every blink felt slow. I had not slept since three. My body still carried the pool—the cold water, Ben’s mouth, the press of his fingers, the way he had left me aching. Guilt sat heavy under the exhaustion. Worry sat heavier.

"I am his brother's wife! Shit. What does that make me? A whore?" My conscience scolded me.

Ben was already there when I came down. He looked rested. He was not. His stares...