There is no protocol for deceit. Not many of us get to inhabit the Hollywood of everyday life. We do not participate in high speed car chases through Paris by night; do not foil a plot to kill the President or escape the grasp of some shadowy foreign agent. But we do, practically all of us, play a leading role in the high drama of romantic betrayal. A mobile phone left charging on the coffee table; a receipt for a restaurant found in a jacket pocket; unexplained absences; a lightness of step that might reveal another significant other. So many clues you might pick up on, and so many of us may have lived these scenarios, either as the perpetrator or victim of deceit. Often both. Sometimes multiple times.
But we are allowed to change partner, are we not? It is not immoral to leave someone, but how are we to legitimately enact the transition? There will be phases in the decision to leave someone. Dissatisfaction; boredom; the encounter with another; the excitement of the new; the first transgressive act; the routine of transgression; the decision to want the change; the pact of the new couple; the practicalities fixed; the decision on how to break the news to the injured party. These are the stations of the cross on the road to betrayal. But on this spectrum, when does the poor behaviour start? There is no protocol of decit. no concensus on when an nascent affair becomes morally inadmissible. A gap in the market for some enterprising chronicler of the contemporary zeitgeist.