A Love I Shouldn't Feel
Chapter 177: Conflicted Feelings ( 177 )

Chapter 177: Conflicted Feelings ( 177 )

The next morning.

The scent of grilled fish and miso filled the kitchen.

Kyouko stood by the counter, gently arranging the dishes.

Her movements were graceful, unhurried—like always.

But inside her, everything still trembled from last night.

Haruki had been relentless.

Ravishing her for hours... and only stopping near midnight.

She could still remember the moment clearly.

Her hands braced on the sill as Haruki held her hips and moved deep inside her.

Her breath fogging the glass.

Her legs nearly giving out.

And then..

The sound of Satoshi’s car outside the gate.

Kyouko had frozen.

But Haruki hadn’t stopped.

He held her tighter.

Whispered that he wasn’t finished.

And kept moving.

She wanted to resist, but her body was already too lost.

She clung to him, heart racing, until he finally released inside her.

Then, with trembling fingers, she adjusted her blouse.

Composed her breath.

Smoothed her hair.

And walked to the front door like nothing had happened.

She pressed the gate remote.

The metal slowly slid open.

Satoshi stepped out of the car, followed by Satomi.

Kyouko stood there—waiting, like a proper wife, like a proper mother, after returning from a long trip.

But all she got was—

"Oh, you’re home?" Satoshi said, not even looking her in the eye.

"I’m going inside. I’m tired," Satomi muttered, brushing past her without pause.

That was it.

After more than two months away...

Not a single hug.

No question of how she was.

No warmth.

Just cold indifference.

As usual.

Kyouko stood quietly by the door, her expression composed.

But inside her chest, something tightened.

She wasn’t surprised.

Not anymore.

Twenty years of silence, neglect, had taught her what to expect.

Still...

Last night, she had been taken like a woman.

Held like someone cherished.

Loved until she forgot where she was.

And now?

Now she was back in their house.

Back to pretending.

Back to being invisible.

Inside Kyouko’s mind, the scene from last night kept replaying.

The moment Haruki took her by the window.

The heat of his body behind her.

The sound of his breath in her ear.

It should have terrified her.

But instead... it excited her.

She bit her lip , standing in the kitchen, remembering the feeling.

What if they had caught us?

Her heart fluttered just imagining it.

What would their faces look like?

If Satoshi... if Satomi... had walked in through the gate just a little earlier—

And looked up to see her, braced against the window frame, Haruki’s arms locked around her waist...

His body moving against hers...

His length buried deep inside her... right in front of them.

Kyouko shivered.

It wasn’t the shame that stirred her.

It was the thrill.

The wicked thrill of nearly being seen.

Nearly being exposed.

A small smile tugged at her lips.

What would Haruki do next?

Would he stop?

Or would he push deeper?

Take her harder?

Make sure they knew?

She didn’t know the answer.

But she wanted to find out.

And that—that—was what scared her the most.

How much she wanted more.

The sound of footsteps echoed from the stairwell.

Satoshi appeared first, dressed in his usual pressed suit, adjusting his cufflinks without a word.

Satomi followed behind him in a crisp blouse and fitted skirt, her heels tapping lightly against the wooden stairs.

Kyouko glanced toward them from the kitchen, offering her usual soft smile.

"Dear. Satomi. Breakfast first," she said gently, placing the last dish on the table.

"Mm." Satoshi nodded curtly and pulled out a chair at the end of the dining table.

Satomi sat beside him without a word, glancing briefly at the spread on the table.

Rice. Miso. Grilled salmon. Tamagoyaki. Fresh fruit. All carefully prepared.

Kyouko stood behind her own chair for a moment.

Moment later, Haruki appeared.

Casual, quiet, freshly showered—dressed in a simple T-shirt and shorts.

He stepped into the dining room without a word, eyes briefly meeting Kyouko’s.

"Honey, sit down and eat," Satomi said, gesture toward the seat next to her.

Haruki gave a soft smile and nodded.

He walked to the table, pulled out the chair across from Kyouko, and sat down.

And for a moment... the house looked normal.

A family having breakfast together.

Kyouko sat quietly across from them, sipping her tea.

But inside her mind.

Her mind drifted.

Far away from this table.

She imagined it.

Haruki behind her, strong hands on her hips, moving deep and hard, his breath hot against her ear.

And then—

The creak of the stairs.

The sharp gasp from above.

Satoshi and Satomi... standing there.

Frozen.

Watching.

She didn’t flinch.

She didn’t cover herself.

She turned her head back, lips parted in a smile—half challenge, half ecstasy.

See your wife, Satoshi?

The one you’ve ignored for over twenty years?

Can you see now?

This is what you lost.

This is what I look like when someone actually wants me.

Her voice, in that wild, imaginary moment, rang in her mind:

"See this handsome young man, Satoshi?

See how hard he’s fucking your wife?"

"Mm... Haruki~ don’t stop..."

She imagined her eyes turning toward Satomi next.

And you.

Look closely, Satomi.

Your husband—yes, the one you accuse, ignore, doubt—

Is now mine.

What a waste.

You threw away a rare man. Not just handsome, not just kind—

But big. So big.

And now he’s inside me.

Now... he belongs to me.

Kyouko blinked slowly, returning to the present moment.

She reached for her cup of tea, lifted it to her lips, and took a quiet sip—unbothered, composed.

Kyouko didn’t know why...

But part of her wanted them to see.

To see everything.

What would they do, if one day they turned the corner—

And saw her body arching beneath Haruki’s?

Her voice trembling as he filled her again and again?

Saw her wrapped around him, bare, taken, loved?

Not hidden.

Not ashamed.

Not pretending.

Would they finally see what they threw away?

How two people—ignored, neglected, forgotten—found something real in each other?

She didn’t want it to stay a secret forever.

Maybe not today.

Maybe not tomorrow.

But someday...

If they saw it—if they walked in and saw her riding him in the kitchen, or moaning under him in the guest room...

She wouldn’t feel shame.

She wouldn’t feel fear.

Not anymore.

Her patience had long withered.

Her obedience, drained.

And what was left now?

Just a quiet woman.

A gentle wife.

A graceful mother.

Who no longer cared if she was caught.

Because this time...

She was finally living.

( End Of Chapter )