Page 55 of Shifted Desire

Mark picks up the character sheet Shane printed out, pulling out a pair of reading glasses from his shirt pocket to inspect it. “Damn, I’m not sure I even remember what any of this means.

“You never really knew how to play to begin with, so not much has changed,” Stacy teases, and he glares at her.

I guess even after decades of marriage, some things never change.

A heavy, almost smothering sense of longing and regret blankets me as I observe them bicker playfully.

Gods, how did I let myself get this far into my life and have nothing to show for it?

I’m sitting at a table with friends from my youth, the ones I shared my hopes for the future with, and am reminded of how little hope remains in me.

My past self would be fucking disappointed with me.

“Don’t worry if you don’t remember the rules. We’re here to have fun.”

Shane says it like it’s simple, but I’m realizing now with a crushing dread that I’m not sure I even remember how to have fun.

We fumble through our game night, spending more time chatting about what we’ve been up to than getting any real gameplay done. By the time Stacy and Mark head out, I’m drained from pretending to be my old, carefree self and acting like I’m not jealous of everyone else’s happiness.

I stick around to help clean up, a habit so ingrained in me that I don’t consider not doing it, even though I’d like nothing more than to go home and run off all these unpleasant emotions.

Shane gives me a gentle, concerned look as I pour the leftover chips back into a bag. “I’m sorry. I should’ve scheduled this for a different time. I didn’t think about how close to the full moon it is.”

I frown. “What? No, it’s fine. I had a good time.”

Shane snorts. “Sure you did.”

A spike of guilt stabs into my gut because he sounds exactly like Samantha, his wry smile, intonation, and teasing disbelief all a perfect match.

I force a laugh, wanting to crawl into a hole and hide in shame from the guilt flooding my system. “Okay, it was a little rough, but that’s because I’m a bitter, jealous old man.”

“You’re not old!” Shane teases with a mock frown. “If you’re old, then I’m old.” I shrug, and he chuckles. “Fine, we’re old. But we’ve still got some life left in us. You’ve got plenty of time…if you want something…if you’re looking for more…” He rubs the back of his neck. “Fuck, sorry, I’m no good at the whole life and relationship advice stuff.”

“Yeah, I gathered that after you almost burned alive on the spot when you and Elle offered to be my friends with benefits.”

Shane’s cheeks turn a bright red. “I just want to help you! I didn’t think you’d want to do it, but we had to offer. I love you, man. We both do. We just want you to be happy, and it kills me to think that you’re struggling when I could try to help.”

“And you think I’m sexy,” I tease, using it as a means to hide my guilt.

“Shut up,” Shane grumbles, but we both laugh a second later.

“I’m doing better. You don’t need to worry about me.”

He gives me an appraising look. “You have been looking less…rough.”

“I think the updates you did to the charm have been helping.”

It’s a lie, but I can’t tell him I’m doing better because his daughter is fucking me.

Shane lights up. “You think?”

I swallow back my guilt. “Totally.”

Conversation shifts to other enchantments he’s been fiddling with lately, PI work, and family. I struggle to stay present, as each passing moment makes me feel worse.

As I drive back to my loft, I make a decision.

No more sex with Samantha.