You can't do it.

"I-I can't," you say, taken aback by her question. "Rebecca and I have known each other for more than half our lives... I still love her... and we've built a life together."

"I understand," she says, sliding off your lap and tying up her robe. "I really like your wife too. We should stop this now before anyone gets seriously hurt. At first, it was just physical... but we're getting in a little too deep now I think."

You're surprised by the amount of maturity she's showing at the moment, but you know you've hurt her deeply. Part of you wants to try to console her, but you know that it would probably make things far, far worse. She packs her things that evening and sleeps in the spare room, before taking a bus back to town. You offer to drive her back, but she explains that it would be too awkward to do that. You spend another few days cleaning up the beach house, trying to process the chain of events that have just occurred - the incredible highs of the best sex you've ever had in your entire life, and the deep lows of now knowing that you'll never experience it ever again.

On the long drive home, you wonder if you made the wrong decision -that you should not have answered her question so quickly and given it some thought. But it's too late now, and it's better if you stop second-guessing yourself. Any change of mind now would complicate things even further, and you're not sure the chaos that would ensue would turn out well at all.