I’m worried you’re making a huge mistake.
I mean, I haven’t actually read Anna Karenina (it’s on my list, I swear!) but it’s not really known as one of history’s feel-good reads.
Which is why I have the distinct feeling that things are going to go downhill for you after you leave your husband for Skeet.
Watch Sarah Snook and Rodger Corser discuss infidelity… Post continues after video.
I get it. Skeet has an unusual name and long hair that he sometimes flicks out of his face with a seductive shake of his head. Other times he lets it fall over his eyes in a devil-may-care fashion; this is equally attractive.
He lives, inexplicably, in a giant, rambling old house-cum-music studio. He’s a music producer who’s never picked up a tennis racket in his life.
He makes you do things you never thought you’d do, like have sex in a car on your own driveway, which bore more than a passing resemblance to that Titantic carriage sex scene. He makes you feel alive, dammit.
Now, hear me out on this one. I posit that you are not in love, but deeply in lust.
You and Skeet have barely spoken to each other except those conversations you’ve had where you’re all, “I can’t! I’m married!” and he’s all, “Come on, baby,” and you end up shagging in a park.
You’ve had loads of those “conversations”, but you’ve spoken little about, y’know, your lives.