Our affair gathered pace more quickly than I think either of us was expecting. He rented an apartment in the city and stayed up at least two nights every week, which meant that we could spend a lot of time together. Usually, I would go to the apartment after work and be waiting by the time he arrived at around 6 p.m. His appetite for sex was voracious and he never seemed to be able to get enough of me.

Sex was a huge part of our relationship, but over the weeks and months, we grew closer and closer, until I was deeply, hopelessly, in love with him. The age difference didn’t seem to bother either of us and although any amateur psychologist would probably have suggested that I was trying to fill the gap left by my father, I knew it was more than that. It was a meeting of minds, as well as bodies and everything about him made me happy.

I had never been in love before and felt almost scared by the way it unbalanced me. I was normally so in control of my emotions that it was unsettling and even slightly worrying that I couldn’t control the way I felt about him. I had never let myself go in the past because I wanted to protect myself from being hurt. But with Peter, I was powerless to stop myself from falling for him.

It had never bothered me with other lovers when they talked about their wives and families but whenever Peter mentioned Jo and his children, I began to bristle. I wished he would either be horrible about them or never bring the subject up. But he seemed unaware of the effect his words were having on me and would talk with pride about how Emma was going to take on the world with her incredible career, or that Ben and his girlfriend had spent the weekend with him and Jo and that Jo was such an incredible cook.

Eventually, I snapped. ‘Well, if your life is so bloody perfect, what the hell are you doing here, in bed, with me?’

There was a shocked pause, as Peter digested my words, before easing himself up into a sitting position. He looked down at me and sighed deeply. ‘I don’t know how to answer that one. Because I like you very much. Because you’re beautiful, funny and interesting, I suppose.’

I propped myself up on one elbow. ‘Hmmm …’

Peter stroked my hair contemplatively. ‘I know it doesn’t justify what I’m doing. I know that it’s wrong … But I just don’t want to give you up.’

‘Good!’ I didn’t want to scare him off by getting too heavy. I gazed up at him, feeling dissatisfied. I wanted him to tell me that I was his grand passion; that he felt the same way about me as I felt about him but I knew deep down that it wouldn’t happen. I needed to think of a way to make him realize that he couldn’t live without me. A way to make him commit to me properly.