Suggestion

The next morning, Clara woke to the soft light filtering through the curtains. For a moment, she felt disoriented, her mind struggling to piece together the previous night's events. Then it all came rushing back, the way Dylan had kissed her, the way she had let herself give in, the way they had fallen into bed together. She groaned softly, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.

How had she let this happen? How had she allowed herself to lose control like that? She had always prided herself on her strength, her ability to keep her emotions in check. But last night, all of that had crumbled under the weight of her loneliness and the familiarity of Dylan's touch.

As if sensing her gaze, Dylan stirred, his eyes fluttering open. For a moment, he looked disoriented, but then his gaze met hers, and a slow, sleepy smile spread across his face. "Morning," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

Clara didn't respond immediately. She simply stared at him, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts she couldn't quite put into words. Finally, she sighed and sat up, pulling the sheet around her as she turned away from him. "This was a mistake," she said quietly, her voice tinged with regret.

Dylan's smile faded, replaced by a look of concern. He propped himself up on one elbow, his hand reaching out to gently touch her arm. "Clara…"

She shook her head, cutting him off. "Don't, Dylan. Just… don't. This shouldn't have happened. I'm married. You know that."

Dylan's hand dropped, and he sat up fully, running a hand through his hair. "I know," he said, his voice low. "But last night… it wasn't just about being drunk, Clara. It was about us. About what we used to have. What we could still have, if you'd just let yourself—"

"Stop," Clara interrupted, her voice firm. She stood up, clutching the sheet around her as she walked to the window, putting distance between them. "This isn't about what we used to have. This is about reality. And the reality is, I'm married to Aiden. Whatever happened last night… it can't happen again."

Dylan watched her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Then he spoke again, his tone cautious. "Clara… I know why you moved out. I've heard the rumors. Aiden's been… unfaithful, hasn't he?"

Clara froze, her back stiffening like a board. Though she didn't turn around, her silence spoke volumes.

Dylan pressed on, his voice softer now. "Clara, you don't have to sacrifice your happiness for someone who doesn't deserve you. You don't owe him anything."

Clara finally turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "It's not about owing him anything. It's about me. I don't love Aiden anymore, but I don't love you either, Dylan. I've moved on. From both of you."

Dylan's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "Then what do you want, Clara? If it's not love, then what?"

Clara hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. "What I want," she said quietly, "is to be left alone. Last night was a mistake, and it won't happen again. You should go."

Dylan seemed to sense her hesitation. He stood up and walked over to her, his voice low and persuasive. "Clara, we don't have to make this complicated. We can keep it simple. No strings attached. Just two people who… enjoy each other's company. I promise I can give you an unforgettable sexual experience. You know I've always done it well, haven't you? How about it, Clara? Interested in becoming friends with benefits?"

Clara looked up at him, her heart pounding. The idea was undeniably tempting, so tempting it made her pulse quicken. Over the years, the relentless demands of her career had piled up, leaving her drowning in stress and pressure. For Clara, sex had always been a release, a fleeting escape from the suffocating weight of her responsibilities. At her most restless, she had sought out multiple partners, craving the physical connection that made her feel alive, if only for a moment.

It was how she had first met Dylan, a one-night stand that had unexpectedly turned into something more. She had stopped seeing other men then, choosing to focus on Dylan. But now, after the painful misunderstanding that drove them apart and Aiden's betrayal, she found herself yearning for that same release, that same fleeting escape.

If Dylan could be that for her now, a reliable, no-strings-attached partner, it would be ideal. They knew each other intimately, and there would be no risk of unnecessary scandals or complications. However, there was one thing she needed to make crystal clear.

"If we do this," she said slowly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions churning inside her, "it has to be clear. There's no love between us. Not anymore. I've moved on from you, Dylan. And if you find someone you truly care about, you have to tell me. I won't stand in your way. I'll only wish you happiness."

Dylan studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Fair enough. No love, no promises. Just… us."

Clara took a deep breath, her resolve hardening like steel. "Alright. But the moment this starts to feel like a mistake, it ends. No questions asked."

Dylan's smile widened, a hint of his old charm returning. "Deal."

He stood up and made his way to the door, pausing for a moment to look back at her. His eyes held a deep meaning, one that made her heart flutter. Then he turned and left, leaving her standing there, her mind racing with the weight of his gaze.

Afterward, Clara's life settled into a rhythm revolving around two things: her work and Dylan. Her days brimmed with meetings, proposals, and the relentless demands of her career, while her nights were punctuated by the occasional visit from Dylan.

Still, Clara couldn't deny the lingering unease that sometimes crept into her thoughts. She had built walls around her heart, ones she wasn't ready to tear down, not even for Dylan. Yet, in fleeting, quiet moments, she wondered if she was fooling herself. But she always pushed those thoughts aside, burying them beneath the weight of her responsibilities.