One day, I am going to write on this topic. One day.
Since the moment I met my current boyfriend at a dinner party years ago, I have been his. He was married at the time, but in our moment nuptials didn’t matter. Nothing did. Except the immediate sense of knowing that a seedling of great love had been planted.
I chose to give in—to his devilish smile, attentive gaze, graying temples and effortless charisma, beneath which I sensed precious hints of vulnerability.
I am not exactly a stupid person, so I didn’t get involved with a married guy expecting him to leave his wife, in…
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