They say every journey begins with a single step. Mine began with a question—an innocent, almost playful suggestion that shattered the delicate, predictable shell of my life and forced me to confront desires I didn’t even know I had. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’m Samantha—Sam to most people. A 36-year-old suburban wife with a husband, Mark, who’s as steady as the sunrise. We have a good life—stable and comfortable. If you peeked into our world, you’d see the picture-perfect marriage: Friday night takeout on the couch, weekend barbecues with friends, and a shared laugh over the occasional inside joke. It wasn’t thrilling, but it was ours.