I am in a strange place today.
Yesterday I had one of the best evenings of my life. No light title. I am still amazed that all this happiness could spring from a whimsical Google search and a few (relatively) innocent emails...
James wife is away on business. His flat, in the city, is immaculate. I must admit, when he first asked me back to his, I panicked. Even though Silvia is hundreds of miles away, it was hard to shake off the idea that she could come sweeping through the door at any moment, to be confronted by James and I in a compromising embrace.
After a few hours I was properly settled. It may have been the wine. We are so good at talking. The way we communicate has become this odd mix of old friend familiarity and teenage hormonal flirtation. He cooked us a traditional roast, which was beautiful (better than mine, but that's no tall order).
It was awkward towards the end of the evening, as we both didn't want things to end. He suggested we take our wine upstairs. I watched everything happen from quite far away. We made love on his marital bed, like prisoners on a conjugal visit. The sex was everything I hoped it would be, both tender and urgent. After such a long time of only touching one person, it was bizzarre to be so intimate with another.
When we had finished, I stayed awake for a while, as James lied passed out on my chest. The deed is done now. I am now a cheater. I could have kidded myself before, but now there is physical evidence.
A thick cloud of guilt is threatening to block out my sun. I am going to fight for my hapiness.