I saw him again tonight. He was across the stream, but the waters only reflected the moon above us. We walked, with the babbling waters between us, but it was as if we were walking side-by-side. Why does someone I've only seen and never touched excite me so much? Why do I spend all day longing for nightfall, for another tantalizing glimpse of this pale stranger? My husband is a plain man, an honest man. Good for putting bread on the table and keeping me warm and comfortable. He doesn't suspect anything of my nocturnal activities. Still, I hate lying to him.
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