Long Term Bull Discussion

The next few days are a little tight between you. He’s not sulking, not snapping, but you can feel it in the way his voice softens around certain topics, or how his eyes linger on you just a second longer when you’re getting dressed in the morning.

One evening, you’re both in the kitchen after the kids have gone up to bed. The dishwasher hums quietly, the smell of coffee still warm in the air.

Tom leans against the counter, arms folded. “I’ve been thinking.”

You pause mid-rinse, looking over. “About?”

“About… this. Him. The whole thing.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking tired more than anything. “I don’t like it. I don’t. It hurts, if I’m honest.”

Your stomach knots. “Then”

“But,” he cuts in gently, “I love you. And I don’t want to lose you over something you clearly want to explore. So… as long as you’re still mine, and it’s just for sex…” He pauses, meeting your eyes. “…then sure.”

You step closer, resting your hands on his forearms. “Just for sex. Nothing more.”

He nods once, firmly. “And the rule stands, always a condom.”

“Always,” you promise.

From then on, you make it a point to keep him in the loop. If you message, he knows. If you’re meeting, he knows. Not every word, not every detail, but enough that he’s never wondering where you are or what’s happening.

And though you can still see the flicker of discomfort in him sometimes, there’s also something else, the quiet, unspoken bond that comes from knowing he’s choosing to trust you, even when it’s hard.