Vivian is still in love with her ex though she wouldn't admit it and I wouldn't ask. It's not as if I haven't known all along. She had just turned thirty-four when we met and her son Dennis was nine. She met her ex sophomore year in college, and then they were together a few years before marriage and the kid. He left her for a twenty-year old model who left him a few years later for an actor. Since then he'd been on and off clinically depressed. He was in therapy. He talked about rebuilding his life. When he came to pick up Dennis for a weekend Viv tried to hide it but the connection was obvious, how she hung on every detail of any story he told, how she worried about him and offered advice. Afterwards, when he left, she was always quiet for hours, usually she'd say she was tired and wanted to go lie down for a while. I knew she loved him from the start and that our relationship was more about convenience than passion. I was willing to accept that. You should see Viv. She's stunning. And Dennis is a great kid. I'm twenty years older than her, twice divorced. When we met I had two teenage daughters, one wilder than the other, both of them nursing serious issues with their dad. I was lucky to find someone like Viv then and that's still how I feel. Though I had hoped in time that things between us would change, that a bond would deepen and grow. It hasn't worked out that way. The best you can say about the relationship is that we care for each other. We do. We have a sex life, though you could hardly call it active. Thing is, for both of us, it's okay. It works. Thing about her ex is that I'm jealous, and not of him, or even Viv, like I need to possess her--but of the love they share, that it was ever so intense, that it's still there.