![]() Neither of us has been in touch, but we both know that each is thinking about the other. The breakup was predictably messy and hurtful. A love that makes you feel as if you’ve come home. Whatever the reason, the result is the same – two people now deprived of the kind of love that rarely makes an appearance. Of not being able to introduce him to my family and friends. ![]() Or maybe I was just tired of the secrecy. In the extremely unlikely event that our affair had been discovered, I would probably have been condemned as a predatory harlot who cares nothing for the sisterhood. Perhaps, in the end, it was simply due to a deeply embedded sense of moral outrage. I am still not entirely sure what the catalyst was. And then, perhaps because we were getting to know each other properly, I realised that I loved this man enough to let him go. But when each period lifted, we found ourselves spending every spare second together. Our concerns for each other and our families prevented any physical contact. Lockdown added another layer of subterfuge to the proceedings. I cherished those times when we could walk hand in hand, sit at a table and laugh together – just like a proper couple. We drove for miles to go for walks and lunches where neither of us would be recognised. “Like the princess you are,” he said, hugging me. It was as if I had been awoken from a deep sleep. ![]() Gradually, the world became a better place, full of smiles and laughter and warmth. And so, on the grounds that I had never met his wife and she was oblivious to my existence, I allowed myself to fall in love – and even to justify my decision.Īs the weeks and months went by, I often had occasion to reflect on my good fortune in having found not one but two great loves in my life. He said that eventually he and his wife would have to have a conversation about how the marriage had long run its course. Everything he said was calm and measured and rang true. I’d known him as a friend for some months and he had mentioned that he and his wife lived very separately – that they never ate together, or went out, or touched, or talked. I know that is a cliché, but I believed him. We had known each other for some time, so I knew that his was a marriage in name only and his life revolved around his work. Why would I give this up? It was as if I had been awoken from a deep sleep. And in the space of a few hours, I had turned from someone who had always heartily condemned any kind of infidelity, into someone who was having an affair with a married man.Īs the months went by, I often had occasion to reflect on my good fortune in having found not one but two great loves in my life. But because I knew that the man who had awakened my heart, body and soul was married. Not because I felt I was betraying my late husband – although there was an element of that. Happier than I had been for a long time.īut there was guilt, too.
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