I have been seeing a married man for four months. Spare me. I already know.
His wife found out and sent me a message asking me to come over. I assumed she wanted proof, an apology, maybe to throw something.
She poured me wine.
Then she told me their marriage had been open for two years and he was the one hiding me because he liked the drama of an affair.
She was calm. Beautiful. Much funnier than him.
I stayed three hours.
Now she and I text more than he and I do, and I am starting to suspect he was never the interesting part.
Absolutely feral behavior. I say that with concern and a tiny bit of admiration.
Some people journal. Some people create evidence. We all cope differently.
The wife inviting you over is where I would simply leave Earth.
Not me whispering ‘oh no’ to my phone.
I don’t know who I’m mad at yet. Give me a minute.
Okay but was he worth blowing up your whole Tuesday?
One hotel room? You knew exactly what you were doing.
You are gambling with a mortgage for a dopamine hit. That math is ugly.
You cannot put this back in the toothpaste tube, babe.
My mama would say, if you have to whisper it, leave it alone.
I would move counties. Maybe states.
Baby, chemistry is not character. Learned that one the expensive way.
I would need a spreadsheet, a witness protection plan and a nap.
I came for gossip and stayed for poor decision making.
I’m judging, but from a comfortable chair, so it barely counts.
There are easier ways to feel alive. Allegedly.
No shade, but this has midlife crisis with good hair written all over it.
The emotional labor on this situation has already exceeded the fun.
This reads like freedom until you remember everyone has phones.
The part of me with common sense says stop. The part of me raised on telenovelas says continue.
I would be sick with guilt for six months and then somehow do it again.
Your group chat knows, doesn’t it? Somebody always knows.
There is no clean ending here. Only outfits and consequences.
Ma’am. Respectfully. WHAT.
I need names changed, locations blurred and part two by morning.
This is not a red flag. This is a full parade.