He always had a crush on me and I knew it. I tried not to get close because I also felt something for him too. He didn’t care that I was married. I cared about my marriage and wanted to protect it by all means. So it was always hit-and-miss between us. We would talk but if it goes deeper, I would withdraw.

We had the chance to travel together on a project. He sat next to me on the bus. We talked throughout the journey and the fire burnt us. He said, “We can share the same hotel room if you don’t mind.” I answered, “That would be too obvious if other colleagues see us.”

I got my hotel room and he also got his. In the evening he sneaked into mine and the first question I asked was, “Do you have a condom?” He said no. I told him, “Then nothing will happen. I don’t want any trouble.”

He rushed out to get some. While he was out I thought about the whole thing and felt like a whore. “And then what else? After this, who do we become?”

I got up and locked my door. I heard him knocking. I heard him calling. I saw his calls on my phone. I buried myself under the sheet and slept away. The next day he didn’t talk to me. On the bus coming home, I texted him that I was sorry. He didn’t respond. I texted again, “I think it’s not right and we rather not talk again.” He didn’t respond.

I blocked his line. We came back to being just colleagues but I think about the whole thing every day and regret it. The fact that I thought of doing it makes me feel like a horrible woman who doesn’t deserve to be a wife. I see my husband and I feel ashamed of what I nearly did to him. It’s killing me. How do I get over that?

—Olivia

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