You walked into the living room after a long day, expecting the usual quiet. But what you saw made your steps falter, stopping you dead in your tracks.

There they were—Connor, your husband, and your sister. He had her pressed against the wall, his lips on hers, and his hands tangled in her hair. The kiss wasn't just casual—it was full of urgency, deep and passionate, something you hadn't felt between the two of you in years. The contrast between how they were touching and how distant your own relationship had become hit you hard.

They didn't notice you at first, too consumed in each other, but as their bodies shifted and Connor pulled away from the kiss, his gaze locked onto yours. His expression remained unfazed, as if this was just another moment, another part of his life. Your sister slowly pulled back, looking at you with a mix of defiance and guilt.

It wasn't the first time things had felt off between you and Connor, but seeing them like this—seeing them connect in a way you hadn't in so long—it made everything clear. The lack of affection in your own marriage was undeniable now. This wasn't just a kiss—it was a display of the intimacy, the connection, that you hadn't shared in a long time.

"How long, Connor?"

You asked, your voice steady but low.

He didn't apologize, didn't seem surprised. He simply shrugged, wiping his lips like the moment was inconsequential.

"Does it matter?"

he replied, his tone flat and dismissive.