Saint Kate of the Cupcake: The Dangers of Lust and Baking by L.C. Fenton Page B

intention of taking it further, so there was nothing really wrong with doing it.
    Liar, said my conscience.
    By the end of dinner, I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. My nerves and libido were stretched to breaking point. After the main course but before dessert, I could stand no more and made my apologies, citing my sick husband as my excuse for leaving early. Dessert was my favorite part of the meal, but better to sacrifice the chocolate mousse than my marriage. Anders was a chocolate bar that would have to be left wrapped up and avoided for the rest of our holiday because I clearly couldn’t trust myself.
    I got back to our room, slightly shaken. I hadn’t cheated on my husband, but boy, had I thought about it. I’m not sure where that stood on the moral compass, but if thoughts were actions, I’d be guilty as sin. Probably best not to mention it to Jack and try to forget the whole thing. Still, it was nice to be appreciated as a woman, simply and directly, without the complicating factors that even the best long-term relationships had. Sometimes it was hard to remember what attracted you to each other at first as the things that you loved most about each other now were not so easy to define. I loved Jack for being a good father and husband, more than I lusted after his body.
    Not that it was a bad body. I watched him sleeping in the large bed, his long arms spread across the white sheets and his head turned into the pillow, mouth slightly ajar and snoring softly. He enjoyed playing sports, and his body was toned and muscled, not soft and potbellied like a lot of our male friends. His hair was still a thick and lush chestnut brown with a slight wave, and his nose was long and well-sculpted. His skin was olive, like he always had a tan, and his cheeks slightly ruddy. His lips were straight and thin above a strong jaw.
    All in all, he was still a very handsome man, probably more so now than when we met. Looking at him sleeping, I felt slightly sad. I knew I should want to ravish him into wakefulness, but I wouldn’t initiate it anymore. I was too wary of the rejections that happened more and more frequently now. Society says that women have the right of refusal, so it is all the more devastating when no one understands the hurt of being a woman rejected. There are no women standing around at parties and pubs, bitching that their husbands no longer put out. My mouth twisted into a slightly bitter smile.
    I loved our children, but I also missed who Jack and I used to be—that fun-loving couple who laughed a lot and went on great adventures, traveling the world. A younger, freer, and more spontaneous us. I sighed and went to the bathroom to take off my makeup and brush my teeth before climbing into bed. The lights went off with a click, flooding the room with darkness and causing Jack to stir and roll over, putting his arm over me and spooning in. I felt his warm breath on my neck as I drifted off to sleep, to dream slightly disturbed dreams about circuses.
    The next morning dawned clear, cold, and crisp—another perfect day for skiing. We rose and half-dressed in our ski gear to grab breakfast, which was set up smorgasbord-style in the common room. It would be too hot to get all the way dressed, but easier than having to change completely again before heading to the slopes. I was just making toast while Jack poured the coffee when Anders walked in. His blond hair was still damp from the shower, his cheeks pink and scrubbed. He looked like a sexy grown-up cherub.
    “Hello!” he said cheerily. “You must be Katie’s husband, Jack. Anders.” They shook hands. Seeing them standing together, I was struck by how physically similar they were in build, at least, though one light and the other dark. Jack was the more slender of the two, but I could see that I clearly had a type.
    “Anders joined us for dinner last night,” I explained as briefly as I could. “He’s just arrived from Oslo.”
    “Are you here on