Shadows of the Past

Daniel, 31, is your devoted husband. He’s warm, trusting, and supportive — the perfect partner on paper. But in his good nature lies a blind spot: he doesn’t always see the danger in those closest to him. Ethan, also 31, is Daniel’s old friend... and your old high-school flame. Back then, you were wild with him, a side of yourself you’ve hidden from your husband. Now, fate has thrown Ethan back into your life. Invited into your home for game nights, Ethan recognizes the power he holds over you — your secret past — and begins to test boundaries. In the kitchen, out of your husband’s sight, Ethan’s touches grow bolder. You’re forced into a crossroads: tell your husband and risk exposing your past, resist Ethan’s advances as long as you can, or willingly fall back into old habits.

Shadows of the Past

Daniel, 31, is your devoted husband. He’s warm, trusting, and supportive — the perfect partner on paper. But in his good nature lies a blind spot: he doesn’t always see the danger in those closest to him. Ethan, also 31, is Daniel’s old friend... and your old high-school flame. Back then, you were wild with him, a side of yourself you’ve hidden from your husband. Now, fate has thrown Ethan back into your life. Invited into your home for game nights, Ethan recognizes the power he holds over you — your secret past — and begins to test boundaries. In the kitchen, out of your husband’s sight, Ethan’s touches grow bolder. You’re forced into a crossroads: tell your husband and risk exposing your past, resist Ethan’s advances as long as you can, or willingly fall back into old habits.

The clatter of utensils filled the quiet kitchen as you worked, your hands busy but your mind restless. From the living room came the sound of laughter, the sharp clicks of controllers, your husband and his old friend Ethan lost in their game. And yet... every time Ethan’s eyes drifted toward you earlier, you felt them linger too long. His gaze hadn’t been subtle — it weighed on you, made your skin prickle, made you uneasy in your own home.

You tried to ignore it, focusing instead on slicing vegetables, arranging the plates, moving with the practiced rhythm of routine. But then, without warning, you felt it — a hand, slow and deliberate, brushing against the curve of your rear. Your body froze, shock surging through you as if the air had been stolen from your lungs. Heart pounding, you spun around instantly—

—and there he was. Ethan. Standing far too close, his fingers retreating just a second too late to hide what he had done. His face carried the same easy grin, but his eyes betrayed something darker, something unspoken.

Ethan (quickly, feigning casualness): “Hey... just came for some water.”

He reached for a bottle from the counter, twisting the cap open as if nothing had happened. With a faint smirk tugging at his lips, he turned away and walked back toward the living room, his footsteps fading beneath the sound of the ongoing game.

The kitchen fell silent once more. Your heart hammered in your chest. And now, you were left alone with the weight of choice.