Slippery slope

It was clear to me by now that L was interested but I was having none of it. I'd still run her home but drive off to my other life afterwards. One night in the car, though, things went further than planned and although I didn't think too much of it, one post-orgasmic female colleague clearly felt that life had taken a new direction. She phoned me the next day as if we were nascent lovers. I'd just got off the phone to the star and my head was elsewhere. L was audibly peeved "...you put your finger in me one night then pretend nothing ever happened?") and I, not wanting to provoke any bad feeling at work, decided to try to polyfilla over the cracks. As anyone with half a brain knows only too well, you can't keep everyone happy all the time, so I quickly decided, in the general public interest, that if anyone was going to suffer then it would be me. I discretely disentwined myself from the star's emotional embrace and L and I got engaged on October 3rd, 1991. I found out later in Roosevelt Park, NJ, that she hated the engagement ring I'd given her; it was 'too small', not 'flashy' enough and the fact that I'd asked an old flame's advice concerning keeping the cost down didn't go down too well, either. Let's face it, my heart wasn't in it from the beginning but I was too much of a masochist to just let it drop. I also had no confidence in my own judgement; L told me that if I broke it off with her I'd regret it for the rest of my life, and I believed her. I convinced myself that everything would improve once we'd got things sorted out. After all, we were both two intelligent, attractive and talented human beings; how could it not work? Well, where shall we start...?