Infidelity, Intimacy, and the Ethics of Yearning

Writing intimacy with emotional integrity

In Sip Happens: A Story of (In)Fidelitea, infidelity isn’t the climax—it’s the question. A provocation. A mirror held up to the quiet ruptures we rationalize, ritualize, or refuse to name.

But beneath the scandal lies something older, stranger: yearning. Chaste, unspoken, and emotionally charged. It’s the kind of connection that fogs the mirror without ever touching the glass.

When Ciaran and Daniya share a single afternoon of tea and cakes in the French Quarter, the world reads it as betrayal. But what happens when emotional intimacy feels more dangerous than physical touch? What if the real infidelity is the one we never confess?

The Craft Behind the Craving

I write emotional infidelity with restraint because I believe provocation should serve truth, not spectacle. The goal isn’t to titillate—it’s to interrogate. To ask what we owe the people we love, and what we owe ourselves when love begins to fray.

That’s what I mean by writing intimacy with emotional integrity: storytelling that provokes without violating, that challenges without sensationalizing, and that honors the emotional truth of every character.

Why It Matters

Agents and readers alike deserve stories that challenge without exploiting. That stir emotion without manipulating it. That ask hard questions and trust the audience to sit with the discomfort.

Sip Happens is that kind of story. It simmers. Then spills.

And in the spill, we find the truth.

And sometimes each other.