The Love Affair

Chapter Twenty Two

How in the space of less than five hours had I made up my mind? How was it that I was now deciding that my relationship with Nick was mendable. Had it just taken a horrible nightmare and sex to fix the pieces back together? Or was I delusional and pitying Nick by attempting to dampen my guilt. Maybe, I'm pretending. Maybe, my relationship with Nick is really damaged and that moment of vulnerability I'd felt last night was nothing more than just exactly that. Who knew? Because I certainly didn't. There must be some truth because I'm staring blankly at the computer screen and fixated on the pending cursor. I feel like I can't write suddenly again. It's as if my motivation, or my desire has been snipped off with a pair of scissors leaving me sitting here like a fool. Something's going on. Surely, thinking about Shane should spur me to address a few more lines. But, nope. Instead, after numerous times of reliving our kiss earlier today, it appears even that cannot challenge me to go full steam ahead and finish the book. Am I not turned on by Shane? Am I broken? Or has my guilt finally gnawed away at me that my desire has been tarnished as part of my punishment?

I groaned, rubbing my tired eyes before frustratingly back-spacing on the keyboard. And how on earth was I going to finish this book when I can't find the will to write? Or better yet, how was I going to tie the loose ends in the end because after-all, this was strictly tied to my own circumstances than loosely inspired. So, what? Does my story have to wait until I make up my mind? I just don't know anymore.

I opted to close down my document and briefly browse upon my social media, answering questions and liking tags. It helped. And there was nothing more I liked than connecting with my readers.

I must have been browsing for some time until I stopped mid-way, my eyes pinpointed to some twitter comment.

@R.Stanton Your romance stories always inspire me. They're always seem so happy and just great. But things aren't so great for me. I feel like I'm being suffocated by my marriage.

The back of my throat felt a little dry as I re-read each word. Suffocated. Was that how I felt? I might say that but then Nick isn't horrid or despicable. He loves me. It's me that's the problem. I couldn't help but feel attached to their comment. Only unlike me, they probably haven't resulted to committing an affair with another man.

I wrote back a quick response. I'm glad my stories are close to your heart. Follow your heart. Do what's best for you. You can't force love.

It seemed a little ironic giving out the exact advice that I needed.

At that moment, I wanted to be honest with somebody. I hated keeping this to myself. I hated that I couldn't confide in Angie considering I'd lied to her face. She probably wouldn't forgive me, or she would be disappointed that I was attempting to fix my problem by cheating. But who else could I tell? My parents would be distraught. I hadn't really got any other close friends. So, in all honesty, I felt completely alone.

I was about to completely switch off my desktop until a thought popped up in my mind. I remembered hearing a while back, discussion of posting your confessions on apps or sites. I didn't give any thought to it back then, but now it seemed more than appropriate. Advice from strangers across the internet. I didn't see any other option.

My fingers typed in ConFESS, a site known to have troubling posts of people admitting their fetishes, dirty secrets and notoriously like my own, affairs. I wasn't fond of the idea, but I was finding it more than necessary.

The options popped up onto the screen. What's your ConFESSion?

I selected martial affair.

Gulp.

Feeling a little paranoid I turned quickly around. No one was there, and I knew Nick was at work, but it still didn't comfort me, nonetheless.