Two years ago
He is trying so hard to be good.
It is not that he does not love her. Without her his life would be without meaning. Her light is all around him.
It is not that he is unhappy. Especially during these recent weeks, together in their secluded, leafy home by the river, the days have been almost blissful after the detached, deceitful, untidy, complicated and eventually painfully sad years of being half away.
It is not that he still harbours angry resentment over their long-term sexual incompatibility. His desperate unrequited desire for her has somehow become dissipated over his wicked affairs, the wanton trysts and the wild, wonderful relationships. She is his best friend. They will never be lovers again. It doesn’t matter.
But every now and then, when the night is velvet and pierced with stars. When his gaze is caught by a stranger’s perfectly turned ankle or delicious thigh…
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