First Time Going Out

The sky is already starting to dim when you go upstairs to get ready. Tom’s in the lounge with the kids, the faint sound of cartoons carrying up the stairs.

In the bedroom, you lay your outfit out on the bed: dark skinny jeans, the deep green wrap top, and black ankle boots. You dress slowly, making sure each part sits right, knickers smooth, bra straps even, jeans pulled up without catching on the hem.

When you stand in front of the mirror, you take a moment. Hair loose, makeup done, jacket over your arm. You touch your wedding ring briefly, almost without thinking.

Downstairs, the kids are sprawled on the sofa, still in their uniforms. Tom’s sitting in the armchair, looking over at you as you step into the room.

“You look nice,” he says, and it’s simple, warm.

“Thanks,” you reply, picking up your bag.

You kiss each of the kids on the head, then lean over Tom, your hand resting on the back of his chair for a second longer than necessary. “I’ll text you.”

“I know,” he says. “Drive safe.”

The evening air outside is cool, that in-between temperature where you’re glad you’ve got a jacket. You get into the car, start the engine, and sit for a moment before reversing out of the drive.

As you head toward town, the roads familiar, you find your mind slipping between thoughts.

Tom, at home now, maybe getting the kids into pyjamas, maybe making himself a coffee. You picture him glancing at his phone later, waiting for your message.

Then the man you’re going to meet, younger, a stranger really, except for the messages. You wonder what his voice will sound like in person.

The two images blur and swap in your mind. One is home, safety, the life you’ve built. The other is unknown, charged, and just far enough outside your normal to feel like stepping over a line.

You turn the radio down. The ring on your finger feels heavier tonight, and you can’t tell if that’s comfort or guilt.

Streetlights begin to dot the road as you get closer to town. You check your lipstick in the rear-view mirror at a red light, tell yourself you’re just going for a meal and a chat.