Cherry-Stained Lips

I never meant to love her.

At least, that's what I tell myself.

I had a wife. A life. A name that belonged to someone who was supposed to have everything figured out. Then she came along-young, beautiful, and completely unaware of the secrets I had spent years learning how to hide.

I should have walked away.

But sometimes, loneliness makes monsters out of ordinary men. Sometimes, you convince yourself that you're only reaching for something you were never given. That you deserve to be happy, even if someone else has to hurt for it.

I told myself I was a victim of circumstance.

I told myself I had no choice.

I told myself a lot of things.

Now, when I close my eyes, I see her lips-the color of cherries, the taste of something I was never supposed to want. And no matter how many years pass, I can't escape what I did to get them.