That night you tossed and turned, anticipation and dread for tomorrow's talk making sleep difficult. "What's wrong?" Jensen finally asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" You asked, even though you already knew the answer. Jensen rolled over onto his side, brushing the hair back from your face.

"It's alright, but I would like to know what's going on. You've been on edge this entire week. Is everything okay?" He asked, as you leaned into the touch.

"I guess I was just stressed by the BBQ. I wanted everything to be perfect." You explained, skirting the real issue. 

"Honey, I don't want you worrying about things like that. My friends are your friends, and they will love you no matter what type of party you throw. But that doesn't explain your lack of sleep tonight." He replied, his hand resting on your waist. 

Sighing, you knew you had to give him some sort of answer. You hated this, the lying, but you knew it was necessary. "I don't know, maybe I had too much alcohol." You suggested, and he seemed to buy it. Rolling over onto his back, he pulled you with him, moving you until you were tight against his body, your head resting on his chest, his arm wrapped securely around you. 

"Listen, I know my life isn't the easiest for a relationship. I know I'm gone a lot, and you're left on your own. But please, if something is bugging you, please tell me. I can't fix anything if I don't know about it. I love you, and I can't imagine life without you, or seeing you unhappy." He told you, and you felt tears gather in your eyes at how bad a wife you were.

"You don't know how happy you make me." You told him truthfully, but as you laid there you tried to figure yourself out. If Jensen made you that happy, if you loved him as much as you thought, then why were you pining after Misha.

Jensen didn't answer, and you could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest, letting you know he had fallen back asleep. Tracing light patterns on his chest, you tried to figure out what you were going to do in the morning. You loved your husband with everything you had, but you could also feel these hidden feelings for Misha, and you weren't sure where you wanted to take them. Tightening your hand in Jensen's shirt, you wished you had never been introduced to Misha, because then you wouldn't be having these issues.

It was about an hour later you were finally able to fall asleep, even though it was still restless and unsettled. It seemed like only moments later you felt Jensen stirring, and you groaned, cuddling closer into his chest.

You felt him run his hand along your back before he whispered words against the top of your head. "I know, I'm sorry sweetheart. But I promised Jared a day of golf." 

You nodded, feeling him slide out of the bed, but instead of waking up to see him off, you snuggled into his pillow, his familiar smell lulling you back to sleep. 

The next time you woke was to a pounding on the front door. Sitting straight up in bed, you wiped the drool from your mouth. Someone knocked again, and you slipped out of bed, brushing the hair back from your face. Grabbing your robe from the edge of the bed, you tied it on as you rushed down the hallway.

"Coming!" You yelled, sleep still fuzzing your brain. Throwing the door open, you could only stare at Misha in confusion.

"Misha?" You asked, stepping aside to let him in. The fog was slowly lifting, and suddenly you realized you had planned this little meeting with him. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't sleep well last night, and must have forgotten all about it!" You apologized, leading the way into the kitchen. 

"Have a seat, want some coffee?" You asked, busying yourself around the kitchen, starting the coffee pot, grabbing an apple. You turned to check on him because he hadn't answered, only to see his eyes traveling your entire body. It was then you realized how you must look. Your hair was probably ratted due to your lack of sleep, and your face was probably wrinkled from the pillows. You were only dressed in one of Jensen's old t-shirts, a short robe covering it, leaving your legs bare from mid thigh.

"I'm sorry." You apologized again. "Let me go change. Give me five minutes." You told him, rounding the corner, intent on rushing towards your bedroom and changing. But Misha had other plans, he reached out, grabbing your wrist, stopping you.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it. You look good like this." He answered, his voice husky. Biting your lip, you turned back into the kitchen, Misha dropping his hand. Grabbing two cups, you poured the coffee, handing one to him, before standing across from him, sipping your own.

"So, rough night?" He asked, and you nodded. "Was it because of me?" You shrugged, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the truth. 

"Misha, I still don't know what to do. I know you said you have feelings for me, but I just don't know if I can do this to Jensen. I love him too much." You told him, looking down so you didn't have to see the disappointment on his face. You knew this was the right thing to do, but why did it have to hurt so much?

You heard him get out of his chair, but you kept your eyes down cast, wondering if he was planning on just walking out. But then you felt his hands on your shoulders, gently turning you to face him. His callused fingers gently touched your chin, lifting it up until your e/c eyes met his blue ones.

"Y/N, you don't mean that. I know it's a hard decision, and neither of us want to hurt Jensen. But, what about us? Why do we have to hurt?" He asked you, gently cupping your cheek with his palm.

"Misha, I know this is hurting you. And if I wasn't with Jensen, I would jump at the chance to be with you. But I'm married to Jensen, and I love him, deeply. I can't do this to him." You said again, hoping Misha would leave it at that.

"Okay, I here you. One more kiss, and then we will forget this ever happened." He told you, his voice laced with sadness. You nodded, knowing one more kiss would make things harder, but you didn't want to hurt Misha anymore than necessary. Leaning forward, you felt Misha's hand move from your cheek to the back of your neck, tilting your head as his warm lips met your own. At first it was gentle, but then all the frustration and despair leaked from him into the kiss, and he pressed his lips hard to yours, so hard you could feel your teeth cutting into your lips.

Instead of complaining, you moaned, your arms raising on their own, crushing his shirt in your fists. You were so preoccupied with the kiss, you didn't hear the sound of keys in the door, or footsteps in the hallway.

"Y/N, are you up yet?" Jensen's voice echoed through the house, and before you could pull your lips from Misha's, Jensen rounded the corner, stopping at the sight in front of him.