Free No Ordinary Affair by Fiona Wilde, Sullivan Clarke Page A

even if you did I doubt you’d care. It was all just a game to you.”
    “No it wasn’t, Mary,” he said. “You were different.”
    “Please,” I said, disgusted at hi m, disgusted at myself for ever believing in him.
    “I don’t expect you to believe me,” he said. “All I ever wanted to do was to make you dreams come true – yours and theirs. Was that so wrong?”
    “Yes,” I said. “We’re married women. You’re lucky no one got physically hurt, Ethan. Broken hearts are one things. Broken bones are better.”
    “I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m careful to choose.. . ” His voice trailed off.
    “Let me guess,” I offered. “You choose women who are dissatisfied, but not so dissatisfied that they’d risk their marriages to expose you or themselves.”
    He looked down. “Something like that.” Then his eyes met mine. “Still, you have to admit it wasn’t all bad.”
    “No,” I said. “But it was bad enough that I’ll never forgive myself, Ethan. What I did was wrong and I’m not completely blaming you. I could have walked away, but at the same time you could have been honest. If you had been it would have made it easier to do.”
    “Maybe I didn’t want you to walk away,” he said.
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    He took a step towards me. He was still so handsome in his overcoat, his rain-slick hair falling over his shoulders.
    “I know I tell the women they’re different. It’s a line. So sue me. But you, Mary, you are different. Of all the others you were the only one who played the game in a way that made me not just enjoy it but believe it. You made it more real for me than it has ever been! It was fabulous with you. You’re so…genuine, so natural. When I was with you, I was Professor Willoughby!”
    “No,” I said..
    “Yes!” He reached out, taking my hands as his eyes searched mine.
    “It doesn’t have to be a game, Mary. We could live like that 24/7. I’m lonely, Mary. I know I may not seem like it, but I am. When I said I wish I were lucky enough to have a lady like you I meant it. We’d be perfect together.”
    “No,” I said again.
    “Yes!” he said. “Just think about it! We understand one another. We could slip in and out of any role we liked. We could travel through time and be whatever we wanted to be for one another.”
    I smiled sadly. “I believe that,” I said. “You’re right. We could be anything the other wanted, as long as it never became real. We’d have a lifetime of make believe without a genuine moment, Ethan. We could spend a lifetime together and never really get to know one another. And when we got too tired or old or sick to play, what then?”   I paused, looking at him. “What then, Ethan?”
    His eyes became confused. “I don’t think like that,” he said.
    “I know,” I replied. “But I do. That’s why I need a real man and not a playmate.”   I stepped away .
    “Goodbye, Ethan Willoughby.”
     
    “So that’s it then? We’re finished, just like that?”
    I looked at him standing there in the rain, distress etched into his handsome face. It was the first time I’d ever seen him look vulnerable, weak, out of control. And it was just how I wanted – no, needed – to remember him if I was to do what I knew I had to do.
    “Yes,” I said. “We’re finished.”
    He took a step towards me. “No.” And for a moment I wavered and nearly succumbed to the desire to fall before him and admit that he was right, that I needed him - to plead with him to take me back and punish me for even thinking I could be this strong.
    But deep down I knew it would be a lie, just another part of what had become an intoxicating, addictive game I could no longer play
    “Yes,” I said. “We’re finished Ethan. You always told me, didn’t you, that I was capable of being a good girl?” Tears welled in my own eyes now. “Well, here’s my chance.”
     
    Suddenly, like a small gift from a twisted patron saint of unfaithful