I couldn't escape him. I didn't want to. I was his. He was mine. But he wasn't my husband.
My once treasured marriage was now flawed and imperfect. By the time the guilt set in, it was too late. Reality was trying to keep me away from my obsession. My husband was that reality. My obsession was West.
But West was forbidden. Taken. Married. We were swingers. It was the perfect arrangement.