Long Term Bull?

The house is quiet when you unlock the door. Lights low, telly off, just the soft hum of the fridge from the kitchen. You slip your boots off by the mat, hanging your jacket over the bannister before heading through to the lounge.

Tom’s there on the sofa, one leg tucked under him, the glow from his phone lighting his face. He looks up when you walk in.

“Hey,” he says, voice low so he doesn’t wake the kids. “Good night?”

You drop onto the sofa beside him, close enough that your knees touch. “Yeah. Just… not what I expected.”

He studies your face for a beat. “Go on.”

You tell him about the dinner, the hours of talking, the way this man made it clear he wasn’t into one-night stands, that he’d come because he was curious about you. How he seemed almost too loyal, the kind of bloke who’d commit, stay, be steady.

Tom nods slowly, eyes dropping to his hands. “So… not the ‘get it out of your system’ type then.”

You bite your lip for a second, then say it. “No. More like… if anything happened, it wouldn’t just be once. It’d be… ongoing.”

He leans back, processing. “Like… a long-term thing?”

You nod again, watching his face. “Yeah. I’m asking… what would you think of that? A long-term bull, instead of random one-night things?”

His jaw tightens just a fraction. “I don’t know, Em. That’s… different. That’s not just fun and done, that’s… him becoming part of us. Even if I never meet him.”

You rest your hand lightly on his thigh. “I know. I’m not saying I’ve decided. I’m asking what you think.”

He exhales, eyes still fixed on the carpet. “I think… it could hurt more. Because he’d matter to you. But…” His gaze lifts to yours. “…if you’re asking because this feels better than sleeping with strangers, I’d rather know now than later.”

You don’t answer straight away. The quiet stretches between you, filled only by the faint tick of the clock in the hallway.