By Mostaq Shakil

Rena stirred from her slumber earlier than her usual weekday waking time of 7:00 AM. Mornings in their household were a bustling affair, a symphony of activity as they prepared her two boys for the day ahead. Her husband, Jain, isn’t a morning person, needs a cup of coffee to rev up his engines. Both Rena and Jain were in their early thirties, with their five-year-old son, Rony, often stealing the spotlight with his daily anecdotes from the childcare center and his ever-expanding vocabulary.

Their morning routine was like a well-oiled machine. One of them would take turns dropping Rony at the nearby daycare center before both embarked on their respective journeys to work. Conversation during this hectic morning ritual was sparse, as time seemed to elude them.

“Good morning. How was your dinner? How’s Sheila?” Jain’s voice carried a hint of formality, his words diluted, likely a result of still waking up. Sheila was Rena’s college friend, the kind she met occasionally.

“It was okay. Sheila was running late due to work, but we had a pleasant dinner with a fine selection of wine. I must admit, I was a bit buzzed. By the time I got back, you were sleeping like a baby,” Rena replied cautiously, sensing an unusual atmosphere in the morning air.

“Did I snore?” Jain inquired, his concern seemingly jumping ahead of his morning grogginess.

Rena chuckled softly. “I honestly can’t recall, even if you did.”

“Alright, take it easy. Don’t forget to hydrate after a night of revelry. I might be home late tonight; there’s a business dinner on the agenda,” Jain informed her.

“Please don’t be too late,” Rena whispered softly as she watched both Jain and Rony depart for the daycare. It was an unusual sight—Rony’s eagerness to go to daycare each morning. In the beginning, he had despised the place, and leaving him there had been a heartbreaking ordeal during the initial months. However, the situation had now reversed itself entirely.

Their daily life unfolded in a whirlwind of activities—a portrayal of the quintessential modern family. Everything seemed meticulously planned, so much so that you could almost see checkmarks strewn around the house, marking the completion of tasks.

2

With Jain and Rony’s departure, the once bustling kitchen and living room descended into an abrupt silence. It was Rena’s moment, a precious interlude of solitude that arrived every other day. She cherished these pockets of time, each day different from the last. On some mornings, music filled the air as she prepared herself for work, her favorite tunes setting the tone for the day. Other days, she might choose to steal an extra nap, savoring the luxury of peaceful slumber. And then, there were days when she indulged in yoga, the gentle stretches a soothing balm for her mind and body.

Rena’s work hours afforded her greater flexibility compared to Jain’s, a fact she appreciated deeply. However, on this particular morning, an unusual cocktail of emotions swirled within her—guilt and numbness, an unsettling blend. She longed for the day to speed by, to push the memories of last night further into the recesses of her mind. Deep down, she knew that what had transpired should never have occurred at this stage of her life.

As Rena headed to her closet to prepare for the day ahead, the specter of the previous night loomed. It had been a night wasted, an inexplicable deviation from her usual path. With trepidation, she scrutinized her neck, searching for any telltale marks. The memory of excessive drinking and a passionate encounter with a man named Martin haunted her. She had met him at a bar, but the details of how she had succumbed to his advances remained shrouded in a fog of intoxication.

Her gaze then dropped to her lower stomach, seeking any signs of a scratch or mark. Both she and Martin had been inebriated, and she recalled the intensity that often accompanied attempts at intimacy after heavy drinking. Rena knew that this was not who she was supposed to be, and yet, the traces of that night lingered, etched into her consciousness.

3

At thirty-five, Rena was a paragon of meticulous maintenance. Slim and curvaceous, she possessed a flair for fashion, her wavy hair and carefully manicured nails adding to her allure. She was conscientious about her diet and exercise, walking home from work daily to maintain her figure. On weekends, she tended to her home, nurtured her garden, and took her son to the park—a testament to her commitment to an active lifestyle.

Her self-awareness made her an attractive figure, drawing the attention of men. Yet, her equilibrium remained intact. Rena had learned early in life how to extricate herself from unwelcome advances, safeguarding herself from the cacophony of society’s unseemly elements. Thus, last night’s escapade felt foreign, a deviation from her norm. She couldn’t fathom what had driven her actions. This wasn’t real; it felt as though she’d been operating under a spell. Hidden beneath her polished exterior lay desires—raw, dark, and deeply shameful—yearnings for adulation and longing. Last night had resurrected those desires, though Rena yearned to forget them. Even after all these years, there were aspects of herself she didn’t truly understand. Who was she beneath the veneer? How far could she venture into the realm of her desires?

4

Martin woke with the swiftness of a turbocharged engine, his morning routine needing no caffeine boost. His wife playfully referred to him as “turbo head.” The moment he opened his eyes, he was fully functional. Today, however, his mind was occupied by thoughts of the previous night, a rendezvous with a woman named Rena whom he had met at a bar. Those hours of conversation had led to an engaging and passionate encounter, a rare occurrence for Martin, now in his forties. He wasn’t averse to the idea, but his introverted nature made it challenging to connect with strangers, especially in social settings. Sleeping with someone he barely knew was even more uncommon.

Yet, last night had been different with Rena. She possessed qualities that piqued Martin’s interest, and the physical chemistry between them had been undeniable. Rena’s marital status, however, presented a unique opportunity. Her being married with a child could potentially mean less emotional involvement and a safer bet for Martin to explore a fun and open relationship—a type of connection he had been seeking. With his wife frequently traveling for work and their chemistry slowly dwindling due to their life stage, Martin had contemplated the concept of an open relationship and the prospect of adding some excitement to his life.

An open relationship, or friendship as Martin saw it, was a nontraditional concept. It meant that a couple could engage in physical relationships with others without emotional entanglement. As both Martin and Rena were married, the key to their potential connection was the aspect of “openness.” This fundamental understanding was often misunderstood, as many associated open relationships solely with physical encounters or the pursuit of new sexual partners. However, beyond the physical aspect, true openness encompassed emotional honesty and freedom from constraints that typically weighed down married life.

These thoughts occupied Martin’s mind as he attempted to order breakfast via room service. He had skipped dinner the previous night, well aware that consuming alcohol on an empty stomach was ill-advised. Rena, too, hadn’t eaten much during their bar escapade. They had ended up at a cozy hotel on the outskirts, as Martin had suggested they move to a quieter bar. The corner bar had turned out to be too noisy for their conversation.

While enjoying another drink in a dimly lit corner of the hotel bar, Martin read the signs that Rena was willing to continue their evening. She had consumed a fair amount of alcohol and showed no intention of heading home until she had sobered up. It sounded like a feeble excuse, but she seemed genuinely engaged in their conversation, eager to see where it would lead.

Taking the initiative, Martin went to the hotel’s reception desk, securing a room key, and returned to Rena. He explained that he had found a quieter bar with a splendid view at the top of the hotel. Rena chuckled wickedly but stood up to follow him. The room they entered was on the 37th floor, and Rena couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow inquisitively. Martin assured her that it was indeed a bar—a minibar with a magnificent view. The room’s expansive windows offered breathtaking vistas.

Their intimacy unfolded gradually, starting with the shelter of shoulders and the gentle touch of fingers interlocking. The electric connection between them was undeniable, and it didn’t take long for both to undress and find their way to the bed. After the passionate storm had surged through them twice, Rena quickly dressed, fixed her makeup and hair, and left before midnight. At home, she told her husband that she would return late after meeting her university friends, a practice she occasionally indulged in. She explained that her dinner plans had been canceled at the last minute due to a friend’s unexpected work schedule. Rena didn’t feel like going home, as it was a special “daddy time” for Rony, and she wanted to give her husband Jain the opportunity to cherish those moments, knowing how much he treasured them.

to be continued…