He called.
I was young and reckless. He was older, married, insanely attractive, a long-time womanizer, describing himself as an 'aging roue' while still in his mid-40s, promising only 'a mutual compliment.' That was fine with me.
The affair absolutely smoked. For years.
I got pregnant deliberately, expecting nothing from him.
My son was born.
My mother warned, 'He's a powerful man. Be careful. He could take your child away.'
I told him that she said this. He laughed. 'You'd kill me, wouldn't you?'
Yes.
I got a new job and left the country. He came to visit. He was sweet, gracious, discrete, but it was clear that this was not his real life, just a fantasy.
I stopped writing to him.
The end.
Not quite.
Not Cassandra, but an in-law
