I often think back to when I was having just your usual affair with a married man: the hurried meetings and stolen moments with the heart-pounding deliciousness of doing the wrong thing. It was okay, I told myself, because I was doing it all for love.
His wife gave all her attention to their new baby and he couldn’t be expected either to do without or leave the family home. So, I was willing to fit myself around the situation, which hardly seemed an effort at all since I was so happy.
The only thing I really regretted was not having more of him. I longed for more time to touch his wonderful body, more chances to whisper in his ear how much I loved him, and more reasons to be sure I was absolutely essential to him.
Probably you’ll be thinking that his wife found out, divorced him and I’m now complaining because we’re married and he’s off with someone else new. How I wish this, painful as it would be, were true! I must admit the first part is true; his wife long ago found out about our affair. But she could not be happier and a divorce is never going to happen, even though that baby still takes all of her time and love 24/7.
I sighed as I lifted the basin of bath water and carried it out of the room. Having had breakfast and bath, exercises were the next on the agenda. Not that I could see them doing any good. Because, you see, once again I fit myself around the situation. It was when his wife suggested, after the accident, that I move in and take care of her quadriplegic husband. Now I have much more of him than I ever wanted to have but all I can do is to grit my teeth and tell myself: I’m doing it all for love!