Totally ignoring her marital status, he gave her a bunch of wild violets as a token of his love. And she, totally ignoring her marital status, received his gift with pleasure.
Later, his telephone rang.
"I love you ..."
"I love you too."
"But I'm confused."
"Leave him!"
Angela tried to. Ben was patient. Sam wasn't going to placidly let his wife go. Fed by her lust for Ben their marriage perked up. Fuelled by the rediscovery of sex in her life, her love and yearning for Ben increased. She was pushed and pulled by ambivalent emotion.
"I love you. If you need space from me to sort things out with Sam, take it."
"Don't leave me!" she screamed.
"I love you, but I've had enough of this, Angie. I'm moving out."
"Don't leave me!" she implored"
So the counselling sessions began. Tears were shed. Angie went away to spend time alone. She found that her love was honed in double edged steel and that neither side would blunt. They took the children away on a family holiday - no contact allowed with Ben - and she softened toward her role as wife. She phoned Ben to end the affair - heard his voice over the telephone, pictured the deep brown mystery of his deep brown eyes and realised the wild violets in her heart had not died. They flourished. Angela found their scent intoxicating.
They arranged to meet. The bouquet in her heart blossomed in passion. She 'phoned an estate agent and was added to list of people wanting to rent property.
They met. They held. They swore undying love, shed clothes, probed and received.
Angela felt cheap.
Ben drove her home, Sam wept.
"It's got to be me or him, Angie. You have to make a decision."
Angela is 80 years old now. She considers herself fortunate. She has enjoyed a good life and a lasting marriage.
For a reason she can no longer remember, though, she always feels immensely sad when she sees wild violets.