Her name was Hannah. She was never part of the inner circle of my wife's friendship group, and yet neither was I.
I didn't have much in common with the people I was forced to be friends with.
Hannah and I connected from the first day we met, as we had several mutual likes that the rest didn't - not even my then-future wife.
Football, technology, and even the music choices, we had lots to talk about.
We were also very much loners in that we didn't like going out, and when we did, we would somehow gravitate to each other for most of the night.
Then we started messaging a lot, nothing serious, just life chats.
Several months before I was due to get married, I bought a house. It needed work, and I often found myself there by myself.
One day, Hannah messaged me with "how's the house going?" to which I replied, "Come have a look, I'll put the kettle on".
So round she came, and we sat on the floor with cups of tea just chatting about life.
It became a weekly thing, but nobody knew about it. It was our escape from life.
We never talked about anything other than life, but we both knew that something was going on.
Hannah was plain-looking, but beautiful, and she had this aura about her that I was drawn to.
One day during our weekly, now daily catch-ups at the house, she asked me to check her phone out as something wasn't right, specifically with her camera. So I did, and as I was trying to figure it out, she gave me this half-glance, wry smile; this was planned.
I checked her gallery app, and there was a folder called "don't look"...so I did.
And there she was, fully naked. This gorgeous figure, perfect beasts, smiling again in that wry way in the mirror. When I say fully nude, I mean everything was on show.
I stopped and stared, and all she said was "you looked, didn't you?".
I couldn't speak. As it happens, her camera did have an issue, which I fixed, and off she went, as if nothing had happened.
Over the next few months, I couldn't get that image out of my head, until one day I found myself at a bus stop about to go to her house "for a change".
I was weeks away from getting married, yet Hannah wanted more.
I wanted more. The image of her naked, which turned into fantasies about her nude on top of me, would not leave my head.
We never directly said we wanted more, but we did.
The bus came, but I couldn't get on it.
I sat there for another hour, just texting Hannah. And it was then that she openly admitted for the first time that she had thought about kissing me many times, as I had her.
But we didn't, we couldn't.
We agreed to stop this before it went any further.
To this day, nearly 10 years later, we reconnect every so often, but never on the level we had previously.
I do miss the friendship we had, but I'm glad we stopped the rest of it.
Although I sometimes wonder what could have been if things were different, that image is still in my head.
I guess we'll never know.
Written anonymously by a reader of VavaViolet Magazine.
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