Yes

We made love several more times over the following two days. Each time was a sweet release.

The rescue came suddenly, like a bolt of lightning in the dead of night. We heard the distant sound of gunfire and shouting voices. Our hearts leaped into our throats as we realized that our captors were under attack. Confusion reigned supreme as we scrambled to make sense of the chaos unfolding around us. Soldiers in camouflage fatigues burst through the door, their weapons trained on any potential threat. Their faces were hard and determined, but shifted to compassion when they surmised what we had been through.

We were each given a mismatched set of clothes to wear. As they guided us out of the compound, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me - not just because we were finally free from our captors, but also because these men and women seemed to genuinely care about our well-being. Their gentle words brought comfort and reassurance as they led us away from the fighting, their voices softening some of the rough edges left by our ordeal.

The relief at being freed was overwhelming. As we were driven back towards civilization, I couldn't help but marvel at how different everything looked now that I wasn't trapped in a tiny cell with no hope for escape. The trees seemed taller and greener than ever before, the sky bluer and more expansive.

But even as we reveled in our newfound freedom, there was still one thing weighing heavily on both of our minds: what would happen when we got home? Would our spouses be able to forgive us for everything that had transpired between us during those dark days? And more importantly, could we ever go back to being just friends after sharing such an intimate connection? Even though our voices caught in our throats as we discussed possibilities, there was no doubting that we each were **** to see our spouses again.

And so, we made a pact: we would tell our therapists everything--every last detail of our time in captivity and the things that had transpired between us during those dark days. But when it came to sharing this information with our spouses, we agreed to keep silent. We couldn't bear the thought of causing them any more pain than they already had endured. We wouldn't put them through the grueling responsibility of processing the weighty moral decision-making that we had been saddled with. Even if they could understand, the hurt would tear them apart.

There was still one lingering question: could our friendship ever be what it once was before? Could Caroline and I go back to being just friends without feeling like something vital was missing from our relationship? Only time would tell; but as we said goodbye to each other, we knew that whatever happened next, we wouldn't face it alone.