Why I had an ALMOST AFFAIR

Novelist Jane Green had a loving husband and happy family, but it wasn’t enough to make her immune to a new type of infidelity.

- JANE GREEN

Looking back, I can see how easily my head was turned. I was in my mid-40s and happily married to a wonderful man. Busy raising our six children in the suburbs outside New York — but still an English girl at heart.

This was my second marriage, an unexpected love story. I answered an ad for a tiny beach cottage and fell madly in love with its owner. The man with twinkly blue eyes and a ready smile. I had four children, he had two. We stole moments of romance when the children were asleep, or on rare weekends.

We had been together six years, married for three. We married in a boutique hotel, both wiping tears away as we said our vows. And then it was on to real life. We were so busy chauffeuring the children around, cooking dinner, juggling work and family, we didn’t have time to focus on each other. We were happy enough, even though we had little time just the two of us. We were weighted down by concern, children, financial commitments, exhaustion. There seemed little room left for desire.

My publisher asked to send me to a book conference in California. I couldn’t wait — anything work-related that involved travel was a chance to remember who I was when not defined by being someone’s wife, someone’s mother.

I was to speak on a panel of authors at a hotel. I decided to have lunch in the bar beforehand and a young, handsome man sat next to me. He was clearly one of the other authors on my panel, so I introduced myself.

A dangerous path

Within minutes, we were engaged in lively chat, and our conversation went from small talk about the writing life, to real talk about parents, grief, and relationships. It occurred to me, with a jolt, there might be chemistry between us.