Betrayal of my friends

Today has been a strange day. I need to write this down to sort out my thoughts. I’m not a writer, so this is going to be a mess, I know. But here goes.

It all started at the Thompsons’ barbecue last month. Sarah, Mike’s wife, my friend since college, poured me a beer. Our hands touched for a second too long. She sounds like something I’d never heard before. I didn’t think much of it. Or maybe I did, but I tucked it away in the back of my mind.

Then, last week, I went to help the Carters move some furniture. David, my coworker, asked me to. Elena, his wife, offered me a glass of water afterward. We were alone. We talked about how boring their routine had become. He told me he felt invisible. I told him that was impossible. The silence that followed was electric. Uncomfortable. I left quickly.

**Date: October 17th**

Sara texted me. An innocent message: “Do you have the plumber’s number?” I don’t have a plumber. We both knew that. We chatted. About silly things. Then not so much. She said Mike was always traveling for work. That she felt lonely. I told her my relationship with Lisa had ended six months ago. That loneliness can be heavy sometimes.

We agreed to meet for coffee. “Just friends,” she said. “Sure,” she replied. It was at a coffee shop on the outskirts of town. We laughed. We talked about the old days. When Mike and I were single. About how time changes things. As we were leaving, by her car, there was a moment. She adjusted the collar of my shirt. Her finger brushed against my collarbone. My heart was racing. She felt it. She bit her lip. “This is wrong,” she whispered. “I know,” I said. And we kissed. It was sweet, urgent, full of years of unspoken glances. We pulled apart as if we’d been burned.

**Date: October 24th**

I can’t stop thinking about it. About Sara. But also about Elena. It’s confusing. I feel like an idiot. And a traitor.

Today was David’s birthday. A party at his house. Elena was wearing an emerald green dress. She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. Her perfume enveloped me. «James, that’s a nice green,» she said. Her hand rested on my arm for a moment. Sarah was on the other side of the room. Our eyes met. She raised her glass slightly. A dangerous complicity.

Later, in the kitchen, helping carry dishes, Elena and I found ourselves alone. «You seem distracted,» she said. «It’s the wine,» I lied. She went to get ice. I was standing in front of the freezer. Suddenly, we were very close. I could see the freckles on her shoulders. «Sarah keeps looking at you,» she said quietly, without looking at me. I froze. «What do you mean?» Finally, she looked at me. «Nothing. It’s just that… I understand the appeal.» And she left. I was left there, my heart pounding. Was it an invitation? A warning? I don’t know.

**Date: November 1**

It’s happened. Both. And I don’t know how.

It was with Sarah first. Mike was in Chicago. She said she was having trouble with the heater. I went over. There was no problem. We both knew it. The tension in the air was palpable. We kissed in the entryway. It was frantic. Hands searching for buttons, zippers. It wasn’t romantic. It was pure need. It was on her living room sofa. It was quick, intense, and then, a guilt-laden silence. She cried a little. I felt like the worst piece of trash in the world. We promised it wouldn’t happen again. We straightened our clothes in silence.

With Elena, it was different. More calculated. David had to visit his mother for a weekend. She invited me to dinner «to thank me for the help with the furniture.» An elaborate dinner. Wine. Soft music. The conversation drifted to how dissatisfied people are. She got up to serve dessert. I got up to help. In the dim light of the kitchen, she placed her hand on my chest. “Do you know what I want?” she asked. This time there was no rush. It was slow. Deliberate. In her bedroom. It was more intimate, more exploratory. Afterward, we lay embraced, speechless, listening to each other’s heartbeats, knowing the enormity of what we had done.

**Date: November 7**

This is getting out of control. I feel torn. Dirty. Excited. Terrified.

Sarah texts me. She wants to see me again. She says she can’t stop thinking about it. Elena found me yesterday at the supermarket. She gave me her personal number, whispering, “For emergencies.” She smiles with a mischievousness that takes my breath away.

They are the wives of my friends. Of MY PEOPLE. Mike and David trust me. We play poker. We go to football matches. What the hell am I doing?

But when I’m with one of them… it’s like the world stops. It’s the adrenaline, the forbidden thrill, the intense physical connection.