For the last couple of months, I've been spending a couple of evenings per week in the arms of another man; cuddling up on a sofa, kissing noisily and having regular confrontations with his ex-girlfriend.

It's been two months of dizzying excitement; intense emotional highs when the course of love ran smooth and we envisaged a life of luxury together on the proceeds of his world-famous works of art. Of course there were occasional lows - how could there not be when you are skulking around in the dark - when we've argued and I threw things at him, only to miss and hit someone else. And uncomfortable moments when my father disapproved and said so plainly. And the even more nerve-wracking occasion when my husband was observing us.

Now it's all over. I've put my wedding ring back on and am trying to re-adjust to my old life.

But I long for the next time; the adrenaline rush is completely addictive.