At the very back of the closet lay a gift box that Lin Yue had nearly forgotten. Kneeling on the soft carpet, her fingers brushed past neatly folded everyday clothes until they grazed something smooth in the corner—a sleek black box tied with a deep red ribbon, like a secret preserved by time.  

On their fifth wedding anniversary, Shen Yan had handed her this box, his eyes gleaming with a spark she hadn’t seen in years. "Wait until tonight..." he had whispered in her ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps along her neck. But that evening, their child had suddenly fallen ill, and in the rush to the hospital, the box had been left forgotten in the depths of the closet—untouched for two years.  

 

Lin Yue’s fingers  trembled slightly as she untied the ribbon. When she lifted the lid, a cascade of black lace spilled into her palm like liquid night. It was a lingerie sex she had never worn—sheer fabric, delicate embroidery, and straps tied in ways that made her cheeks flush. She held it up to her chest and turned toward the full-length mirror. The woman staring back had rosy cheeks and flickering eyes.  

 

"I’m thirty-five..."  Lin Yue murmured to her reflection, yet she couldn’t resist slipping out of her pajamas and carefully stepping into the black lace. The cool silk clung to her warm skin, sending a shiver through her. The woman in the mirror transformed instantly—her collarbones peeked through the lace trim, the cleverly designed ties accentuated her waist, and the sheer mesh over her chest fit like a second skin.  

Her fingers traced her own body, and she realized how long it had been since she had truly looked at herself. Married life had sped past in a blur—work, chores, parent-teacher meetings... Her intimacy with Shen Yan had dwindled into a perfunctory ten-minute routine on weekends, even their kisses feeling more like habit than desire.  

 

Her phone buzzed—a message from Shen Yan: "Working late tonight. Should be home by nine."  Lin Yue stared at her reflection, her pulse quickening. For two years, an invisible barrier had grown between them, neither daring to break it. She remembered the sweet nothings Shen Yan used to murmur in her ear when they were dating, the way they had tangled together under the moonlight on their honeymoon beach...  

 

 "Maybe..."  She took a deep breath and made her decision. Slipping a robe over the lingerie, she walked to the bedroom. In the nightstand were scented candles—a birthday gift from her best friend last year—and she lit them one by one, filling the room with the warm blend of citrus and sandalwood. In the bathroom, she dabbed on a long-neglected perfume, behind her ears, on her wrists, on the bare skin the black lace didn’t cover.  

 

When the clock struck 8:45, Lin Yue turned off the main lights, leaving only the flickering candle glow. She shrugged off the robe and lay across the freshly changed sheets, the black lace shimmering seductively in the golden light. The sound of a key turning in the lock sent her heart racing so fast she feared it might leap from her chest.  

 

Shen Yan’s briefcase hit the floor the moment he pushed open the door.  "Yue...?"  His voice was rough, barely recognizable.  

 

Lin Yue didn’t answer. Instead, she arched slightly, letting the candlelight trace the curves beneath the lace. In this moment, she wasn’t the overthinking wife, mother, or career woman—just a woman craving her lover’s gaze.  

 

Shen Yan loosened his tie with one hand, his eyes drinking her in like a man starved.  "That box..."  His voice was low.  "I thought you threw it away."   

 

 "I found something more important,"  Lin Yue whispered. As he stepped closer, his shadow enveloping her, she closed her eyes. She felt his fingers—trembling with the same hunger as when they first met—finally,  finally  trace the edges of the lace.