I never imagined myself in this situation - pregnant and still meeting other men for sex behind my husband's back. It's a thrill that I can't resist, the excitement of being desired by someone new, even while carrying another man's child. Marc is oblivious to it all, thinking that our baby is his when in reality, he couldn't be further from the truth.
Every time I meet up with one of my secret lovers, there's a rush unlike anything else. The anticipation leading up to our encounters is intoxicating, knowing that we'll share something forbidden and exhilarating together. And afterwards, as I lay in bed next to Marc with guilt gnawing at me from within, there's a sense of satisfaction too - like I'm living on the edge and getting away with it.
But then reality hits me hard sometimes. What am I doing? How did things spiral out of control so quickly? The life growing inside me belongs to another man entirely; how will this all play out once the truth inevitably comes crashing down around us?
Despite these doubts lingering in the back of my mind, I can't seem to stop myself from seeking out those fleeting moments of passion and escape. It feels like an addiction now - one that threatens to consume me whole if left unchecked.
And yet... part of me wonders if maybe this chaotic double life is what keeps everything else stable somehow. Maybe indulging in these risky behaviors allows me to compartmentalize my emotions enough to function normally otherwise.
Whatever the case may be... one thing remains certain: Tamara may appear as just a pregnant wife on the surface but beneath it all lies a woman teetering on the edge between desire and deceit.