I fell head over heels for a dark-haired, broodingly handsome man. The sex was explosive. 25 years later we're still together... and I've realised how truly stupid I was to marry him... but it's not why you think

I blame Emily Brontë. Reading Wuthering Heights as an idealistic 16-year-old set me on a path to find my own real-life Heathcliff - and in doing so, ruined my life.

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