**Playing with Fire**
Youre joking, Thomas threw his head back, choking on laughter. You actually said that to her face? In front of everyone?
What else was I supposed to do? James drummed his fingers nervously on the table. Im married. She wouldnt leave me alonegot bolder every day. The whole departments been whispering.
Mate, youre too soft, his friend teased. Most blokes wouldve taken the opportunity. But not you, Mr. Virtuous.
Weve got different ideas about loyalty, James replied mildly, though exhaustion flickered in his eyes. At first, it was just hints. I pretended not to noticedidnt want to be rude or make a scene.
And that, Thomas raised a knowing eyebrow, was your mistake. Your silence gave her hope.
What does she even want? Plenty of single men around!
For women like her, a wedding ring isnt a barrierits a challenge, Thomas mused. Proof youre worth chasing.
Sophie blew into their office like a sudden spring breeze. She wasnt classically beautifulsharp features, a low, husky voice. But when she smiled, the world seemed to shift. HR later admitted theyd nearly rejected her until that smile changed their minds.
At first, James genuinely liked her. Her energy and wit were a breath of fresh air in their dull routine. He helped her settle in, shared advicesimple kindness, nothing more. A devoted family man, he saw her as a bright colleague, almost a younger sister.
Then the lines blurred. Jokes turned suggestive, touches lingered too long. James, an introvert unused to such boldness, faltered. His usual moral compass spun wildly. He avoided her, skipped lunches together. But retreat only spurred her on.
***
James was nearing 40, a man who kept his life meticulously ordered. Tall but slightly stooped, as if trying to shrink. Dark hair, neatly trimmed, with early greying at the templesheredity and stress. Calm eyes, but behind them, a quiet weariness. He wore slim-framed glasses, which hed nervously adjust when unsettled. His wardrobe was practical: muted shirts, tailored trousers. No flashy details.
He hated crowds, office politicsall of it drained him. Silence, routine, focus were his comforts. Conflict terrified him; hed rather retreat than confront.
Yet beneath that, an unshakable loyalty anchored him. His wife, Emily, and their children werent just part of his lifethey *were* his life. His fidelity wasnt virtue; it was as natural as breathing.
Sophies obsession began day one. He was the only man immune to her charms. Conquering him wasnt about attractionit was validation. If a perfect family man fell for her, shed proven her worth. And experience told her every devoted husband hid secrets.
Two weeks in, Sophie gushed to her friend, Lucy, about her feelings for James. Lucy listened, uneasy.
*Another* married man? Sophie, stop. Hes got two kids.
Oh, details! Sophie waved a hand. Hes trappedI can see it. That wife of his, Emily she doesnt *understand* him. Just keeps him comfortable while his soul suffocates!
How would you know? Have you even met her?
I dont need to! Hes so *controlled*, so buttoned-up thats not normal. Theres pain underneath. Ill help him see it.
Lucy sighed. You sound like a bad rom-com. This isnt a gameits real life.
Sophies eyes gleamed. *This* is my life. Were meant to be. And that perfect family? Ill prove its a lie.
***
The business trip to Edinburgh tested James. Who volunteered to join him? Sophie. Professional by day, but that night, a knock came at his hotel door.
My rooms freezing, she murmured, wrapped in a robeclearly nothing beneath.
His stomach dropped. Panic, thick and sour, clogged his throat. He pictured Emilys trusting eyes.
Wait here, he muttered, turning away. Ill get you a blanket.
Sophie pouted but took it.
Youve locked yourself in a cage and thrown away the key, she said, retreating. Pity. Theres a different man underneathI know it.
James leaned against the closed door, heart hammering. Relief mingled with pityfor her, for himself, for this farce.
Back at work, Sophie seemed to forget him. He almost relaxeduntil she asked for a lift home. He refused.
Do I disgust you?
Youre vibrant, he said carefully. But I love my wife. I have a family
So thats the *only* reason? Her eyes glittered dangerously.
No He stumbled, but she was gone. Instantly, he regretted his hesitation.
That night, a sharp nudge woke him. Emilys furious whisper cut through the dark.
James, are you *mad*? What are these photos shes sending at midnight?
He bolted upright. On his phone: Sophie, barely covered in lace.
Emily, its not what you think! Voice cracking, he confessed everything.
She exhaled slowly. You naive sod, she muttered, anger laced with fondness. Fine. I believe you. But warn herif this happens again, Ill storm that office and give them a show theyll never forget.
The next day, James called Sophie into a meeting room. She entered, glowing, expecting surrender.
Youve crossed a line, he said, voice steady.
Oh, relax. She reached for his cheek.
He recoiled. Her hand hung in the air.
What are you implying?
That your perfect life is a myth, she purred. From the outside: doting wife, princess daughter, heir son
We *are* happy.
Wake up, James! She slammed a paper on the table. Your son isnt *yours*! LookPaternity: 0%. Handy having connections, eh?
James stared. Cold fury surged.
I tolerated your advances. But my children? *Never.* Liam isnt mine by blood. Thats between me and Emily. His parentsEmilys sister and her husbanddied. Hes *ours* now. Happy? Satisfied?
Sophie paled. I didnt know
I dont care. Resign today, or I go to the police. And if you *ever* approach my kids His quiet tone was deadlier than a shout.
She quit by sunset. James came home early, hugging Liam and Mia tighter than usual, breathing in their familiar scent.
That evening, he sat with Emily.
We have to tell him, he murmured. He deserves the truth from usnot a stranger.
Tears welled in her eyesnot from sorrow, but relief. Im scared.
Me too. But well do it together.
A week later, after cake, James knelt beside Liam.
Remember how we say familys the most important thing? Well, family comes in different ways. Buddy Im not your birth dad. Your first parents were Aunt Sarah and Uncle Markthey were wonderful, but theyre not here anymore. Mummy and I chose you. Thats the strongest kind of love.
Liam pondered, then hugged them. Can I have more cake?
The weight lifted. In the quiet hum of family lifecrumbs on the table, soft laughterSophies shadow vanished. Everything settled, exactly where it belonged.
(*Lesson learned: Silence can be mistaken for consent. Some lines must be drawn earlyand firmly.*)
