Smitten With Smita
Ben falls for the irresistible allure of his married professor.
Green hedges flashed past the passenger window, occasional gaps and gates giving Ben glimpses of the fields of Warwickshire, the distant trees rendered grey by the March rain. Really not much to keep his attention from Smita’s wedding ring, glinting on her light brown finger below a deep red, painted nail whenever she turned the steering wheel. I really shouldn’t be doing this. He tried to steal a glance at her unseen, bu...