I can’t. She’s in bed.

Minutes passed without a response. Richard bit his thumbnail and spat the remnants in the sink. He was about to turn off the phone and return it beneath the sink when the text buzzed through.

The door’s on the latch.

Richard sat and weighed the risk. Amber rarely got up in the night, and woke up at seven every morning without fail. He could dress in his running gear in case she woke while he was gone. It wouldn’t be the first time he had woken before the sun and gone for a run down the lanes. But if she woke and realised something was off, it could ruin everything he and James had worked for, for all these months. All the time he had spent with Neena would have been for nothing.

Richard brushed his teeth and tiptoed from the en-suite towards the dressing room. Mid way, Amber stirred in bed and placed her hand on his side of the bed. Richard froze and watched her forehead crease with a frown above the sleeping mask. Even the dark couldn’t diminish her; her ivory skin stood out against the shadows. He held his breath and waited. Amber rolled over again and sank deeper beneath the duvet. Only then did he allow himself to breathe.

Richard dressed in his running gear and headed back through the bedroom for the hallway. He shut the door quietly behind him and listened to the house. Samantha was snoring behind her bedroom door. The rest of the rooms had an empty ring to them, and the chill of the new day was moist in the air and frosted on the windows.

Richard crept through the house, getting louder the closer he got to the door, and jolted just as his hand reached the handle. The heater rumbled awake on the floor above. His heart was racing. His eyes had immediately shot towards the stairs, expecting to find Amber standing at the top. He sighed as he pocketed his keys and slipped out of the house.

* * *

Richard stared at James’ face as he slept in his arms. He had never felt love like it before. Richard could kiss every inch of him and it still wouldn’t be enough; he wanted to devour him, hold him and never let go.

James was beautiful: emerald eyes, long lashes, sun-kissed hair and smooth skin, and a reserve in his nature that made Richard desperate to read his every thought. James had a way of being distant, even when he was lying naked in Richard’s arms. He was passionate when they made love, but there was something so skilful about it that Richard often wondered about the lovers before him, and if each act meant as much to James as it did to him. But it had been a mere nine months that they had been together – he had the rest of his life to figure him out.