It wasn't like that. It wasn't. She hadn't led him on. Or him her. It wasn't like she'd planned to have an affair. There, she'd finally said it. An affair. With her boss. Her married boss. Her dreamy, overworked, misunderstood boss, Tim. It wasn't like it was sordid, or wrong. It wasn't like they'd been indiscreet. It wasn't like any of her colleagues had known. It wasn't like she'd expected him to break it Off. It wasn't like he wasn't kind. The bastard. 

"Tim, you bastard. Why do you care enough to want an end to spare your wife?"

It wasn't like no-one noticed when she ran out of the office, mascara running. It wasn't like he'd warned her not to drive.

"Anne, your in no fit state to go now. Come inside."

It wasn't like she even saw the red light as she sped through the junction. It wasn't like the driver's mirror showed her anything she didn't expect; a pathetic mess.  It wasn't like the driver of the truck could do anything. It wasn't like she'd care at all about facing Tim in the office next day.