My wife goes to bed early.
The house goes quiet.
And that's when it starts.

Meg lives next door. Too young. Too tempting. And far too aware of the way I've been watching her all summer.

It was supposed to be harmless. A message. A late-night visit. A line we both knew better than to cross.

But every Friday, while my wife sleeps upstairs, I find myself walking out the door... and into something I can't stop.

Because this isn't just temptation anymore.
It's routine.
And routine is the most dangerous habit of all.