Maybe

I knew the second I saw him, my life was about to get a lot more complicated.

Connor moved into my neighborhood with a quiet intensity, the kind that made you want to know more, but every part of me screamed to stay away. He was new to town and he wore his past like armor, just like the tattoos that mapped his skin. He was something whispered about but never spoken out loud. And then...and then there was the way he looked at me, like he saw something I didn't even realize was missing.

I told I told myself I was happy. I had a husband, child, a life that from the outside seemed perfect. Jonah loved me...he just had a different way of showing it. I understood the demands of his job. I understood the late nights. He worked hard for our family, what right did I have to complain? To demand more of time he simply didn't have? But the cracks were starting to show. Every day another fissure I couldn't mend.

And now... now, there was Connor.

We shared more than just the same street. We shared a faith, a struggle to stay on the path we knew was right, even as temptation pulled us closer. In church, I could feel his gaze from across the room, as if it was a weight on my skin, something I couldn't shake no matter how hard I prayed.

I shouldn't have let my mind wander to him when I was lying next to my husband at night, shouldn't have let my thoughts drift to what it would be like if things were different. If I were free. But I wasn't free. Neither was he. We both knew the boundaries, knew the danger of crossing lines that couldn't be uncrossed.

Still, every time I saw him, every time we exchanged a word, a glance-it felt like maybe... maybe we were only moments away from falling.