During the holidays, I think of Roberto, the man I fell in love with to end my marriage to my wife.
I drove forty miles in an Iowa blizzard to see “Amadeus.” I wanted to see the movie. I knew Roberto would, too. But my interest intensified because I knew my wife would not want to see it.
In affairs, cheaters look for excuses to escape, to slip out of the bindings of a life they once wanted but now seems not enough.
The evening ended with my car skidding out of control on a snow-packed street, crashing into another car that also should not have been on the roads.
The wreck was a suitable metaphor for my relationships with Roberto and my wife.