ArmyDude’s house is off limits at nighttime for the foreseeable future.
Poor weather was all that saved me from being seen scampering through his garden after our most recent meeting. His house is situated on the curve of a street and traffic isn’t visible until the last moment, making my usual escape through his front yard the riskiest part of our meetings. This time, falling rain had dulled the aural warning of an approaching vehicle but thankfully refracted its headlight beams and gave my survival instincts just enough time to kick in. I dropped behind a bush and waited a few endless seconds for the adrenaline afterpain to subside before traversing his yard and the side streets for the safety of my car.
ArmyDude couldn’t see me from his front door and spent a few stricken minutes thinking I had been detected. We exchanged messages and agreed to let things cool and think of alternative meeting places. The problem is that if we had viable options, we’d already be spreading our risk and using them. He’s not available when my house is free and, having children, he often can’t predict when he could be available with certainty for some hotel hours. The only other options are catching up occasionally at lunch time in a car park or in the office or a storeroom after work — again, fraught with risk and not for regular use.
Too close, far too close.