After graduating from a local university and joining a major life insurance company, I found it difficult to secure actual contracts despite proposing insurance products, as modern customers can easily sign up with just a smartphone. About two years ago, struggling to meet my sales quota, I met a man at a client's office—a personnel and administrative manager at a financial firm, over twenty years my senior. Though I'm not sure exactly what he did, his support helped me overcome that temporary crisis. As a gesture of gratitude, I invited him to dinner. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but when he shared how he felt alienated from his wife and daughter—both roughly my age—I was deeply moved. Despite appearing to be a good father, his vulnerable confession stirred something inside me. Before I realized it, I was in bed comforting him, feeling a maternal tenderness awaken within. Since then, I've met with him once a month. While I don't want to give up my vibrant life in Tokyo, I find myself drawn to his helpless, exposed side. Yet I can't help wondering—am I exploiting his loneliness and isolation, pretending to be his lover purely for my own selfish desires?