Kristin Thompson glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror, sighing at the lines around her hazel eyes and the dullness of her long black hair. At 38, she still maintained a voluptuous figure, though her breasts sagged slightly from age.
In the bedroom, her husband Ryan was already asleep, snoring softly. At 41, he had gained a bit of weight around the middle, his brown hair thinning.
15 years of marriage, Kristin thought as she slid under the covers, and their sex life had dwindled to once a month, if she was in the mood. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt aroused, desired. Those feelings seemed a distant memory of her youth.
Ryan rolled over, slinging an arm over her waist. She stiffened, hoping he wouldn't wake and want to make love.
His hand slid up to cup her breast and she bit back a sigh. Not tonight.
"Sorry," he mumbled, withdrawing his hand. "Force of habit."
"It's okay," she said softly, a pang of guilt hitting her. It wasn't his fault. She was the one with the low libido, not him.
Ryan fell back asleep but Kristin lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Somewhere along the line, her passion had died and she didn't know how to revive it.
Maybe she'd lost that part of herself for good. The thought filled her with a strange sadness. She yearned to feel alive again, awakened, but she feared that ship had sailed.
With a sigh, Kristin closed her eyes, willing sleep to come and take her from these restless thoughts. Tomorrow would be a new day, though she doubted it would be any different.
The next morning, Kristin woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains and the smell of coffee brewing downstairs. Ryan had already left for work, his side of the bed made neatly.
She swung her legs over the edge of the mattress and sat up with a yawn. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was nearly noon. She'd overslept again.
With a sigh, Kristin dragged herself into the shower, the hot water doing little to energize her. She felt adrift, without purpose or passion. Her days blurred together in an endless loop of monotony.
After her shower, she went downstairs and poured herself a mug of coffee, adding a liberal splash of cream and sugar. If nothing else, she could count on her daily caffeine fix.
Kristin carried her coffee into the living room and sat on the sofa, flipping through TV channels aimlessly. She thought of calling a friend but didn't feel up to idle chitchat.
A commercial for a gym caught her eye and she stared at the fit, energetic people in spandex. When was the last time she'd exercised? Months ago, at least. She used to love going for runs to clear her head but even that had fallen by the wayside.
Maybe a workout would boost her mood and motivation. She sighed, knowing she should make an effort to pull herself out of this rut, this gray fog she'd been living in for far too long.
Kristin finished her coffee and stood, suddenly determined. She went upstairs to change into her old gym clothes, digging them out from the back of her closet.
Her gym bag packed, she headed out the door into the bright afternoon, feeling a spark of purpose for the first time in ages.
Ryan came home late as usual, his briefcase stuffed with paperwork. He hung up his suit jacket and loosened his tie with a tired sigh.
After microwaving a frozen dinner, he sat at the kitchen table and sorted through files, barely tasting the food as he ate mechanically. Numbers and figures swam before his eyes but he pushed on, knowing the work wouldn't get done on its own.
When he finally looked up at the clock, hours had passed. He ran a hand over his face, exhaustion seeping into his bones. But providing for his family was his duty, and if that meant long hours at the office, so be it.
Ryan glanced around the empty house, a flicker of longing passing through him. He thought of Kristin and wondered what she'd gotten up to that day, realizing with a pang of guilt that he hadn't called her even once.
He cleared the table and rinsed off his plate, craving the solace of sleep. As he headed upstairs, he promised himself he'd make more time for his wife. But for now, he had to keep his nose to the grindstone. Duty before all else.
Ryan entered the bedroom to find Kristin already asleep, her chest rising and falling with each breath. He gazed down at her silent form and a surge of affection flowed through him. Then he turned out the light, enveloped in darkness, and joined her in slumber's embrace.
The next morning, Kristin woke as sunlight streamed through the curtains. She yawned and stretched, feeling strangely restless. Usually she enjoyed her daily routine, but today a craving for something different tugged at her.
On impulse, she decided to go to the gym. exercising might help burn off her excess energy.
After kissing Ryan goodbye, she drove to the gym and began walking on the treadmill. Boredom quickly set in, and she was about to leave when a personal trainer walked by.
Kristin did a double take. He was tall and muscular, with piercing blue eyes and a strong, square jaw. But what really caught her attention was the large bulge straining against his spandex shorts.
Heat flooded her cheeks as she stared, transfixed. She'd never looked at another man that way. A foreign ache sprang up between her legs and her heart began to pound.
The trainer glanced over, catching Kristin ogling him. Her face turned scarlet as she looked away hurriedly. But try as she might, she couldn't stop picturing what was underneath those shorts.
Kristin gripped the treadmill handles, confusion and arousal swirling inside her. She didn't understand these feelings or where they were coming from. But as much as she wanted to ignore them, her curiosity had been ignited. She had a sense that things were about to change in a big way. Her quiet life would never be the same.
Kristin hurried out of the gym, pulse racing. She barely noticed the drive home, her mind consumed with the image of the trainer's bulge.
In the shower, she tried to scrub the memory away. But her hands lingered between her legs, remembering the ache there. She told herself she was just overtired, that her hormones were out of whack.
After toweling off, she noticed Ryan in the doorway, watching her. A blush crept over her skin as their eyes met. When was the last time he'd looked at her like that?
"You seem distracted today," he said, stepping closer. His gaze raked over her body in a way that made her shiver. "Is everything okay?"
Kristin's mouth went dry. She wanted to tell him about the trainer, the unfamiliar desires he'd stirred in her. But how could she admit such a thing to her husband?
She looked away, wrapping her towel tighter. "Everything's fine. Just tired is all."
