Cheating Wife Demanded Freedom to Date Other Men. Husband Got Back At Her And Divorced.

It was the kind of day that no husband ever wants to face. Amber, my wife of 23 years, told me she was going to start seeing other men starting tonight. I sat there in our kitchen, clutching a glass of Monkey Shoulder Scotch, not quite knowing what to do. For 10 whole minutes, I didn't take a single sip; I just stared off into space, numb, like the world around me had frozen. I couldn't see, couldn't hear, but I could feel this deep ache building inside me—a twist of pain that I knew no drink or medication

could touch. I'd heard stories, rumors really, about men whose wives told them they wanted to date others. I had always brushed it off as some crazy urban legend, something that happened to other people, people whose marriages didn't have the same foundation, the same love as ours. But now, here I am. Amber was supposed to be my partner, my rock, the one person I thought would stand by me. I couldn't wrap my head around it. How could she even consider this? How could she put her own wants above everything we had built? The day itself had

been so ordinary, so pleasant. I left work at 5, whistling as I walked through the front door. I was in a good mood, ready to unwind, and there was Amber, sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of red wine, looking relaxed—almost like she was waiting for me. Her calmness felt strange, like something I couldn't quite put my finger on, but I brushed it off. I sat down, my briefcase beside me, poured myself three fingers of Scotch, and took a seat across from her. She was looking at me with this glint in her eye, a

kind of sly, almost mischievous smile. I raised my eyebrows. “What's on your mind?” I asked, curious but completely unprepared for what was coming. She locked eyes with me, her smile fading into something more serious. “John,” she began, her voice calm and measured, “do you think I've been a good wife and mother all these years?” The question threw me off; it wasn't like Amber to ask things like that, and I could see she was dead serious. After a moment, I answered carefully, “Yes, I'd say you have.” She tilted her head, her gaze still steady. “And don't

you think I deserve a little recognition for that?” I shifted in my chair, trying to figure out where she was going with this. “Amber, should I expect a reward for doing what's expected of me as a good husband and father? What exactly are you getting at?” She took a breath, looking as calm as a lake on a quiet morning. “Tonight, I want to go out with another man.” Her words were like a punch straight to the gut. My mind went blank, my stomach turning over. I sat there, paralyzed, trying to process what she had just

said. She looked at me with the same calm expression, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking and had already braced herself for it. She nodded slowly. “Yes, John, I want to go out with another man. After 24 years of being exclusively yours, I think I've earned the right to explore. I'm not looking for love, just a little excitement. I'm 47 now, and I know I won't be this desirable forever. I want to experience what it feels like to still have options.” I was completely floored; my jaw hung open as I stared at her,

unable to believe what I was hearing. But she just kept looking at me, her face set, her mind made up. “Damn,” I finally muttered under my breath. As she stood up and walked upstairs, I heard her moving around, changing her clothes. When she came back down, she looked like a vision that was both stunning and terrifying to me. She wore a sleek black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, with a cutout that showed just enough to catch a man's eye. The dress barely reached mid-thigh, and she wore it like it was

made just for her. Her makeup was minimal, but her long blonde hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, drawing attention to her face. She looked every bit as beautiful as the day I'd first laid eyes on her, and I was both mesmerized and horrified by it. “I'm not letting this happen, Amber,” I said, standing up and blocking her path. “I don't know what's going on with you, but you're not going out like this—not while you're still my wife.” She looked at me, her smile twisting into something bitter. “John, you're not going to stop me.

You know you're not going to divorce me over this. Where else would you find someone like me? And if we split, the kids would be furious with you for breaking up the family. Let me enjoy myself tonight, and then it'll be you and me again, growing old together.” I couldn't believe the confidence in her voice; it was as if she knew she held all the cards. She leaned in to kiss me goodbye, but I pulled back, feeling like I'd been slapped. Her face shifted for a split second from surprise to hurt, and then settled into

something colder. “Maybe I'll be back,” she said, her voice flat, before she walked out the door. I watched her leave, rooted to the spot, my entire world unraveling in that single, impossible moment. She didn't even look back as I stood there, memories of Amber's beauty and the ways it shaped her life flooding my mind. From a young age, she was the kind of girl who could get nearly anything with a smile or a bat of her eyelashes. She'd learned early that her looks were more than just good fortune; they were... A power she could wield,

and she'd used that power effortlessly. I remember the first day I saw her. My family had just moved to a new town right before I started eighth grade. On that first day of school, I walked into the building, and there she was, laughing with her friends, looking like she belonged in a different world. She had a natural grace, even then, that set her apart from everyone else. I was instantly captivated. It took me a while to work up the courage, but eventually, I asked her out in high school, and to my surprise, she said yes.

We became that couple, together all the time—inseparable. But she had other admirers, and during junior year, she left me for Mike Lester, a football player with the looks and popularity to match. Back then, I was just a skinny kid trying to find my way, and I knew I didn't measure up. By the time we reached senior year, I'd gained a couple of inches and put on some muscle, but even then, I couldn't match Mike or the image of the kind of guy Amber usually wanted. I went to prom with a girl who was nice enough,

but she wasn't Amber. Meanwhile, Amber stood there in her prom queen's crown beside her prom king—the perfect couple everyone admired. Amber's beauty was more than just a gift; it was her ticket, her tool—something she could use to her advantage for the lucky guys who got to date her. Charm and intimacy came naturally, and I was no exception. She had me wrapped around her finger from the very beginning, and I hadn't realized how tightly until now. After high school, I went off to the University of Minnesota to study accounting. Those four years were a mix of

classes, part-time work, and a few casual dates here and there, though nothing serious. Meanwhile, Amber headed to Minnesota State University for a degree in marketing. College life was different for her; she dated, and from what I later heard, didn't hold back in exploring the dating scene. She even got involved with one of her marketing professors, which interestingly helped raise her grade from a B to an A. By then, she was a master at getting what she wanted. Through sheer coincidence, we both ended up with jobs in Duluth after graduation. Nearly a year after we’d settled

into our new lives, I went out one Friday night with some co-workers to a popular bar and grill. We'd been talking, laughing, and sharing a few rounds when Amber walked in with two friends. She wore the short green dress with a neckline that plunged far enough to turn heads across the room. Everyone's eyes were on her; she was that striking. One of my co-workers, Robert Dunn, was the first to break the silence at our table. "Who's that goddess?" he practically shouted, eyes fixed on her. Without even thinking, I answered, "Guys, meet Amber, goddess and my

middle school sweetheart." Heads turned toward me in shock. "Wait, you know her?" one of them asked, wide-eyed. I winced; I wasn't one for attention, so I kept it brief. "Yeah, we were close at 14, but by high school, I'd become invisible, and she ignored me all four years." Laughter mixed with chuckles around the table, and one of the women nudged me. "Any juicy stories from back then?" she teased. I laughed awkwardly, hoping to change the subject, but Amber must have caught the exchange. She looked over, her eyes narrowing as if she almost recognized me. Her

friends sat down nearby, and I noticed she was facing us. Robert nudged me, whispering, "Why don't you go say hi, man? You're practically drooling." Casey, another colleague, joined in. "Yeah, go for it, or at least stop staring." I shook my head. She acted like she didn't know me. For four years of high school, I doubted she'd remember me now. I was trying to play it cool, but I couldn't deny the slight thrill of seeing her again. Meanwhile, Amber kept glancing our way, and finally, as if a light bulb went off, she snapped her fingers and

pointed, "John!" she called out, getting up and coming over. There was no mistaking her recognition now; she approached with that effortless confidence, a smile plastered on her face. "John," she said, all bubbly, "so happy to see you!" I forced a smile, rolling my eyes at my co-workers before standing to greet her. "Amber, it's nice to see you," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral, but she wasn't done making a scene. Before I could react, she wrapped her arm around me and kissed me right on the lips. I was stunned, and so were my colleagues.

Amber noticed my reaction, flashing me a smile that hinted she was fully aware of the stir she just caused. I could see she was enjoying every second of it, knowing she still held that power over me. "Come on, join us at our table," she urged, taking my hand and practically dragging me along. I spent the evening with Amber and her two friends, doing my best to keep things casual. She was her usual charming self, flirting and throwing me these little looks and even planting a few more kisses. I didn't respond the way I knew she

wanted; I kept my focus half on her, half on her friends, which seemed to intrigue her even more. By the end of the night, she'd put her number in my phone, taking mine in return. That Monday morning, my co-workers bombarded me with questions about Amber. "Man, she's incredible," Robert said, his voice still full of awe. "How did you end up leaving so early?" I shrugged. "Look, she's impressive, but she's way out of my league. I'm not signing up for that kind of drama." But I wasn't. "Quite done with Amber. Two days later, I found her

waiting by my car after work. She was dressed in an outfit a size too small, flaunting everything she had. My pulse quickened as I approached, and I had to remind myself to stay calm. 'Why didn't you call, John?' she murmured, her voice soft and alluring. I tried to keep my eyes from wandering, but it was impossible; her top was unbuttoned just enough to catch any man's attention, and her skirt barely covered what it needed to. 'Damn,' I muttered under my breath, trying to steady myself as she leaned in, wrapped her arms around my neck, and

kissed me with a passion that left no room for doubt. She pressed against me, and my hands found her waist, one of them inadvertently grazing her bare backside as her dress rode up. She slipped her tongue into my mouth, and for a minute, I forgot where I was. Finally, we pulled apart, and she adjusted her dress, giving a coy smile to the colleagues who drove past, probably wondering what they had just witnessed. We headed out to a restaurant on the edge of town where we had a nice dinner, though I couldn't help but notice her

constantly tugging at her dress, which amused both me and the waitress. Despite everything, part of me remained cautious around Amber, knowing the kind of spell she could cast. But when we finally made it back to her place and she undressed, I couldn't resist. She looked like the goddess I'd always remembered. I told myself that if this was my only chance, I'd make the most of it. As we lay there, she looked into my eyes and grinned. 'I made a huge mistake years ago,' she whispered, brushing her hand over my face. 'You're incredible, John. I can't

believe we wasted all that time.' That night, something rekindled between us; Amber saw potential in me, even if I wasn't on her level looks-wise. I was fit, driven, and according to her, I had proved my worth in ways that mattered. As we started spending more time together, I knew I was falling for the woman behind that beautiful face. Eventually, I bought an engagement ring, but I knew we needed a serious talk first. One night over dinner, I put a small black box on the table and looked her in the eye. 'What happened in the past

stays in the past,' I said, 'but moving forward, I want full exclusivity between us, no exceptions. If you can't commit to that, I need to know now.' Amber met my gaze, her expression serious before glancing at the box. 'I will never betray my husband, never,' she promised as I opened the box. For years, I held on to her words; she'd stayed loyal as far as I knew, turning down opportunities that would have tempted anyone. She was a perfect 10—no, a 12—and I was maybe a six at best. I'd been grateful, thinking she was the one

for me. When I told her I loved her, I meant it for life—not just 23 years. But now, looking back, I wondered if she still felt the same. Every week, she still got attention from men and sometimes even women. Amber knew she was extraordinary—a rare beauty among the merely attractive—and for 23 years, she had been my everything. I had a pretty good day. Amber and I used to joke about how she'd tell me whenever someone hit on her. She was all about transparency in those early years, letting me know anytime she got unwanted attention. After

a while, though, I told her it wasn't necessary; I trusted her completely. I just asked that she tell me if someone didn't take no for an answer, so I could step in if things got out of hand. As for me, women rarely approached; my wedding ring served as a shield, and the moment I met a new woman, I'd make sure to mention Amber and the kids. I figured it was better to put up boundaries from the start, though Amber never seemed to notice how quickly I shut down any potential flirtations. For years, our marriage seemed

like something out of a storybook, until a new face showed up at Amber's PR firm: Paulina Lopez. Paulina was like something straight out of a song, with thick dark hair, big brown eyes, and a figure that pulled people in wherever she went. She worked as Amber's assistant at Superior Solutions, and she wasn't shy about flaunting her looks or her stories of wild romances outside her marriage. Though Paulina had been married for 15 years, she made no secret of her extracurricular activities, often painting vivid pictures of her passionate rendezvous. One afternoon over coffee, Paulina leaned in

and asked Amber, 'So you've never strayed? Come on, you seem like the perfect wife, but don't you ever crave a little something on the side?' Amber laughed and brushed it off. 'I'm curious, sure, but I could never betray John.' But lately, Amber had been feeling insecure; she'd noticed that when we went out, the attention she used to command had started drifting toward younger women. The realization bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Paulina grinned and leaned in closer. 'Let's play a little game of what if. What if Jon gave you permission? Would that change

things?' Amber's expression softened with a hint of intrigue, as if she were considering it for the first time. 'I suppose if I had his blessing, yeah, that would change everything,' she admitted with a mischievous smile. Paulina chuckled, 'Then maybe you should ask. Everything worth having is worth asking for.' Amber looked hesitant, but a spark of intrigue flickered across her face. 'John would never go for it,' she said, shaking her head. Paulina's eyes glinted with mischief. 'Then make him go for it.'” "Him. And if he loves you enough, he'll understand. Besides, you're not looking for love;

you've got that with him. You just want a little fun." At that moment, I was waking up to the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. It was past 3:00 a.m. I glanced at the half-empty bottle of Woodford Reserve beside me as Amber came through the door, looking worse for wear. Her hair was messy, her makeup smudged, and her clothes rumpled. She had an odd look on her face. "Almost smoked good night, huh?" I said, the sarcasm thick in my voice as I studied her. She rolled her eyes. "You didn't have to wait up,"

she replied, heading straight for the stairs. "Good night to you too. But let's get one thing straight: if this is how it's going to be, I'm done waiting for you." She shot me a glare and kept walking up to bed. I poured myself another drink and settled into the recliner, flipping on ESPN but barely paying attention. By morning, I'd slept fitfully, and as I made breakfast, I heard the shower running upstairs. Usually, Amber would come down in her robe, hair wrapped in a towel. But today, she was fully dressed, makeup on, looking ready for the

day. She glanced around the kitchen and then at me. "Did you leave me anything to eat?" she asked coolly. I gestured to the coffee pot. "I made coffee; you can make the rest yourself." I paused, looking at her firmly. "And since we're both here, let's talk." Amber's eyes widened slightly, probably surprised at my tone. I could tell she expected me to be either fuming or withdrawn, not composed, but I wasn't giving her the satisfaction of a meltdown. "Don't you want to know how last night went?" she asked, sounding almost amused. I clenched my jaw, forcing

my voice to stay calm. "No, I don't need to hear about that. What I need to know is what your vision for our marriage looks like from here." She took a deep breath, her voice adopting a strangely casual tone. "John, as I mentioned yesterday, I want to explore for a while. I'm not looking for love with anyone else; that's for us. But I do want the thrill of something different. You're incredible, but I crave a little variety. I want to enjoy what's out there while I'm still desirable. Afterward, it'll be just us again, growing old

together. I'll be yours fully, but for now, I need this." I stared at her, my hands busy making toast and jam as she spoke. She was discussing our entire future, our life together, while buttering a piece of toast like it was just another topic over breakfast. A thousand questions raced through my mind, but only a few made it to my lips. "Is this just about variety?" I asked, my voice strained. "Am I not enough for you?" Before she could answer, I continued, "So you're proposing an open marriage, then back to monogamy? And that would go

both ways, right? I'd be free to see other people too?" Amber gave a short laugh, as if the idea was amusing to her. The thought of her mild-mannered husband trying to date was apparently laughable, but she nodded, clearly willing to make that concession. "Sure, if that's what it takes for you to be on board. But I'd expect it to be strictly physical for you too." I raised my eyebrows and shrugged. She didn't seem to catch the meaning of my gesture, but I think she had an inkling. Her face brightened slightly as she added, "In fact,

there's Paulina, my friend from the office. She's great, and I'm sure she'd be interested. I could set you two up sometime." I felt my stomach turn. Part of me, some lustful, reckless part, felt tempted, but I wasn't that guy anymore. I shook my head. "Thanks for the offer, Amber, but no. That would make me just as much a cheater as you were last night." Her smug smile twisted into a scowl. "I am not a cheater!" she hissed. "Well, if you say so," I replied, meeting her gaze unflinching. "But that doesn't mean I agree to this."

She stared back, eyes narrowing. "You'll come around, John. I'm doing this with or without your blessing." Monday morning rolled around, and by 11:00, Paulina was already in Amber's office. She must have picked up on Amber's sour mood. Amber muttered something about me being close-minded, clearly annoyed. Paulina frowned, looking over her shoulder as she shut the office door. "So he turned down a date with me, huh? Can't say I expected to be on the table, but I thought I was irresistible," she struck a pose, gesturing to herself with a smirk. Amber managed a weak smile, but

I knew better. She was frustrated, and Paulina's support was only feeding her fire. "How was the date? Did you enjoy yourself, or did John spoil it?" Paulina asked, grinning. Amber chuckled, clearly pleased. "Oh, John knows how to treat a woman. It's been ages since I was with anyone else, and I really appreciated the change. So who do you think I should try next?" They both burst into laughter. I'd avoided talking about divorce, hoping she might come to her senses and abandon this reckless behavior. I still believed we could get past this if she just stopped.

My optimism flickered a bit brighter when she skipped a date the following week. Although we still slept in separate rooms and barely talked, I thought there was a chance she might rethink this whole thing. But the following Friday, she appeared again, dressed up and ready to go out. My heart sank. "Seriously, Amber? You're doing this again? Is it the same guy or someone new this time?" I asked, my voice sharper than I'd intended. Amber shot me an annoyed look. "Look, did you hear anything I said? This isn't about you; it's about me wanting to live

a little while I still can. I'm not losing interest in you, John. I just want variety. I get pursued all the time, and I want to indulge for once, but I'll always come back to you," she added, as if that made it better. "What if I don't want you to come back?" I replied, my voice firm. "I can't stand by while you go out and have fun with other men. This isn't what I signed up for. I won't sit here while you parade around with half the men in town. Once, maybe I could try to

stomach it, but twice? This is outright betrayal!" She scoffed, wiggling her fingers in a mocking gesture. "Oh, please, John! You don't really want to lose me. It doesn't have to be all or nothing." The next day, I instructed my lawyer to draw up divorce papers, even though I hoped I'd never need them. I planned to discuss things with Amber on Monday, but first, I had to call our daughters. When I told them, neither Emma, 21, nor Mia, 19, sounded particularly surprised. As I talked with them, it became clear that Emma might have known what was

going on. "So you knew she was heading down this path and didn't tell me?" I said, shocked. "Dad, I was in a tough spot," she replied, her voice strained. "No matter what I did, one of you would be upset with me. Besides, it's her body, not yours." "Don't go there, Emma," I interrupted, trying to keep my composure. "I get that this was hard on you, but don't tell me she can do whatever she wants as if it's fine. There were vows made, commitments." "Sorry, Dad," she murmured, clearly upset. Amber came home around 2 a.m., an

hour earlier than the last time, but she looked just as disheveled. I wasn't there to see it; I'd left a while ago, but I imagined the smug look she wore as she returned from another man's arms. I learned later that she'd been with Ernesto Lopez, a big strong man who left her barely able to move. She even bragged about how great the night had been. But when she opened a letter at work Monday morning and found the divorce papers, Amber broke down. She retreated to the restroom in tears, where Paulina soon found her. "You had

to know he'd serve you eventually," Paulina said with a shrug. "Men can be childish like that; they love to retaliate. Give him a week or so; he'll come around." Amber dried her tears, trying to compose herself. She went back to her desk, picked up her phone, and called me right away. "How could you do this, John? In front of everyone at work?" "I know you're hurt, but I deserve better than this!" she cried into the phone. "Amber, after 23 years, don't I deserve better than you making decisions on your own to open our marriage? If

you thought I wasn't right for you, couldn't you have told me so we could end things civilly?" I replied, anger simmering beneath the surface. "I don't want civility or a divorce, John. I still love you," she sobbed. "Maybe you do, but every time you go to someone else, my love fades," I said through gritted teeth. I thought my love was bottomless, but maybe we were both wrong. Despite the tension, Amber pressed ahead with the divorce. Her lawyer arranged for marriage counseling, and reluctantly, I agreed to attend. When we walked into the counselor's office, I was

surprised to see Roselyn Walker, a renowned consultant with a reputation for aiming to reconcile couples, often with a bias in favor of the wife. I wondered how that would play out here. "Let’s start with the basics," the counselor said, her voice calm. "Mrs. Brown, did you inform your husband about your intention to date other men?" Amber shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable. "Yes, I did," she said quietly. The counselor's face hardened. "So you wanted this arrangement for yourself without concern for the impact on your husband?" Amber's face darkened. "That's what I want, but it doesn't

mean I don't care about him." The counselor's eyes were like steel. "If you thought for a moment that this behavior could be justified, you're delusional. You should be ashamed of yourself, but clearly, you're not." Amber sat there in stunned silence. Over the next month, she tried calling me almost daily, texting constantly. I ignored nearly every message, having moved into a small apartment nearby. Eventually, she recruited our daughters to contact me. "Dad, do you still love her?" Mia asked one evening over the phone. "If she stopped seeing other men, would you give her another chance?" "Wait,

she's still seeing others?" I asked, my voice trembling. The silence that followed was answer enough. Mia never called again to urge me toward reconciliation. News of the divorce spread quickly, and I was surprised by the number of single women at work who reached out, expressing sympathy and offering support. Even some mutual friends, like Monserat Flores, reached out. She was a longtime friend of Amber's and had known me for years. But I never expected the tone she took with me. "I'd never go after a friend's husband," Monserat assured me, "but now that you're single, well, things

are different. I'm interested in you," John, Monserat told me over lunch one afternoon, catching me off guard. "Surprised but flattered," I replied, managing a smile, "but I'm not officially single yet, Monserat. I won't start anything until the divorce is finalized. Call me old-fashioned, but I'm not about to cheat." Monserat chuckled. "You're such a Boy Scout, John; it's one of the things I admire about you." She hesitated a moment before adding, "Could we at least..." "Go out once things are settled." Sure, I agreed, though I knew this might complicate her friendship with Amber. I wouldn't want

to mess up your friendship with Amber; you two go way back. She waved it off. "I appreciate your concern, but I won't let a good opportunity pass just because it's unconventional." She gave me a playful look. "Maybe I'll give you a call once you're officially off the leash." Monserrat was a striking woman, tall and fit, with long, glossy black hair and a sharp wit. I couldn't deny my interest, though her forwardness caught me by surprise. True to my word, I reached out to her on the day my divorce was finalized. We went out for dinner

that Saturday night and then stopped by a jazz club afterward. Noticing my awkwardness, Monserrat teased me. "I feel like I'm out with a teenager on his first date." "It's been over 26 years since I went on a date with anyone other than Amber," I admitted, laughing at my own discomfort. "Oh, so is the condom in your wallet the same one you had before Amber?" she teased, raising an eyebrow. I laughed, feeling my cheeks redden. "I didn't even think about that." By the end of the night, we shared a gentle kiss that left us both smiling.

I promised to call her again. Removing my wedding ring that day hadn't felt significant, but apparently it was a big deal to some of the single women at work. As soon as they noticed, the flirting ramped up. This was new territory for me, and during lunch one day, I confided in my best friend at work, Robert. "Man, there are so many attractive women in this office," I admitted. "How did I not notice before?" Robert laughed, shaking his head. "Because you were the epitome of a henpecked husband. Head over heels, so much so that you didn't

even glance at other women. Sure, Amber's beautiful, but you let her have all the power. Maybe that's part of the problem." In that first month post-divorce, I went on four dates, including two more with Monserrat, although I hadn't taken any of them further at first. By the second month, I'd ended up sleeping with two women. My daughters, who were in touch with Amber more than with me, had heard her claiming that while she could have any man she wanted, I was struggling to find companionship. Two months after the divorce, my daughters paid me a surprise

visit one Saturday morning. I'd entertained a guest the night before, Kim, a 25-year-old who needed a wedding date. The evening went well, and we ended up back at my place. Kim had fallen asleep in my bed, and I hadn't even thought to set an alarm. When I opened the door at 8:36 a.m., Emma and Mia stood there smiling with bags of breakfast. "What's going on?" I asked, trying to look more awake as they stepped in. "Hi Dad, can we join you for breakfast?" Emma chirped, unpacking bagels and cream cheese. I was pouring coffee when Kim

appeared in one of my shirts, half-buttoned and definitely braless, her hair still tousled from sleep. She smiled at us sleepily. "Didn't know we had guests, babe," she said, giving me a quick kiss. My daughters stood there in stunned silence, cheeks flushing as Kim grabbed a mug and poured herself coffee. "No, no, Kim, these are my daughters," I explained, gesturing. "Oh, nice to meet you!" Kim laughed, sitting beside me and brushing against my arm. Emma and Mia tried to act casual, but I could see the questions brewing. Finally, Emma broke the silence. "So Dad, how are

things with Mom?" she asked, her voice laced with hesitation. My mood shifted as I remembered the bitterness that still lingered. For the first time, I felt uncomfortable with Kim beside me, though her presence had felt like an escape just minutes earlier. Mia spoke up, her tone gentle. "We thought you might miss Mom by now." I shook my head, unable to hide the lingering hurt. "I was her anchor, but she's moved on. She's been entertaining friends in our old bed—two at a time," I muttered. Emma looked shocked while Kim laughed, adding, "So how many guys has

she been with since you split? I mean, even two a month for ten months is twenty guys. Three a month would make it thirty." My daughter shot her a look that could kill, clearly unimpressed by Kim's bluntness. "It's not my fault if someone else can't keep their legs closed," she muttered, shrugging. "Let’s not ruin a good breakfast," I said, cutting in. "Sorry, Dad," they murmured, glancing between each other and Kim. Emma finally asked, "So are you two a thing?" Kim laughed. "Oh, don't worry. I'm just friends with your dad. He's great, but I'm not planning

on being a stepmom. We're just two people enjoying each other's company—that's all." "Yeah, we know he's a good guy, though a bit of an idiot sometimes," Emma joked, giving me a playful smile. "He is pretty cute, even if he is old enough to be your dad." Kim blushed and turned to me. "Hey, remember, we've got lunch with the newlyweds at noon. I need to grab some clothes and get ready." My daughters just rolled their eyes as Kim got up to head home. A few weeks later, Emma dropped a comment to Amber during lunch, mentioning Kim.

"She's my age, Mom. It doesn't seem like a one-time thing either. They're spending a lot of time together. I don't think he'll be coming back to you anytime soon." Amber bristled. "He probably just caught her on a good day. She's likely a loose woman who'll sleep with anyone," she muttered. Emma raised her voice slightly. "Dad's a good man, Mom, and not a player, but somewhere along the line, everything..." became about you. Was it worth it? Amber's face paled, her composure faltering for the first time. She couldn't bring herself to admit it, but things weren't going

as well as she'd let on. In her conversations with Paulina, she talked about her adventures, but privately she hadn't anticipated that I would move on so quickly or that women would find me so desirable. She had assumed I'd spend my days moping over her, not dating. Now, not only had I moved on, but I'd also been seeing several women, including Monzerat, her own friend. She discovered this by chance and assumed it was just a date until she learned of a second. Outraged, Amber confronted Monzerat. "I thought we were friends," Amber shouted, cornering Monzerat at a

café. "You're supposed to have my back!" Monzerat stayed calm, unfazed by Amber's outburst. "Amber, he didn't hurt you. He's a wonderful guy, everything I want in a man. Why shouldn't I date him? Plenty of women are interested in Jon; he's a catch and a gentleman." Amber stood there speechless, realizing just how much she'd taken for granted. It was sinking in that she might have made a mistake she couldn't undo. For the first time, she genuinely felt the emptiness of returning to a quiet, lonely house each day. Amber faced the reality of sleeping alone, a prospect

she dreaded. Meanwhile, my life had taken on a level of activity I'd never anticipated. I used to be content with a simple routine, but things had changed. Work was fulfilling, my social life was lively, and I enjoyed dating women of different ages. I wasn't actively looking for anything long-term, but I appreciated the variety life now offered. One memorable date was with Vicky Price, a striking woman with shoulder-length silver hair streaked with purple. She wore a Milwaukee Brewer cap over her ponytail, and her snug blue Brewer shirt and light blue jeans highlighted her fit, youthful figure.

She was 60 but carried herself with a vibrance that drew plenty of looks at American Family Field, where we'd gone to catch a game. Vicky had worked with me for over 15 years, and we'd met a few times at company events. "I always thought you were handsome and kind," Vicky had told me when she first reached out after losing her husband in a car accident 5 years earlier. She hadn't dated much, but eventually, she decided to give me a call. I remembered her well; she was the kind of woman who exudes elegance and charm, so

when she asked me to dinner, I readily agreed. Our first date was a few months back. We dined at an upscale restaurant and then attended a performance at the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra, where Vicky had secured tickets. That night ended with a gentle kiss at her door. For our second date, we went hiking on a Saturday. I thought I was in decent shape, but Vicky was a seasoned hiker, and I found myself taking breaks while she chuckled at my efforts. Her physique was impressively toned, and her captivating gray eyes were hard to look away from. Our

second date ended with a passionate evening back at her place—the kind of connection that was both tender and exhilarating. For our third date, I suggested a weekend sightseeing trip in Milwaukee, which Vicky happily agreed to. During that outing, she mentioned she had no intention of informing Amber about our relationship. She wouldn't deny it if asked, but there was no need to advertise it. Apparently, Amber had told their co-workers that we divorced over irreconcilable differences—a diplomatic version of the truth. I reiterated what I told others: Amber had been unfaithful with at least two men, though I

didn't share any more details. Two years after the divorce, I built several solid relationships and was enjoying a satisfying social life. Many of the women I dated admired me and saw potential in our connection, though I wasn't rushing into anything. I wanted to rebuild trust and perhaps one day pursue marriage again. Amber, on the other hand, hadn't been interested in any serious connections. She told me long before we divorced that she was only seeking physical encounters. This contrast between us—me seeking companionship, her chasing thrill—seemed to be the reason why we were both better off apart.

But this difference presented a challenge for our daughter, Emma, who was deep into planning her wedding funded by me. When Amber suggested to Emma that we both attend the wedding unaccompanied to avoid any tension, Emma reluctantly agreed and brought it up to me over lunch. "Is this your idea or your mother's?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. Emma sighed. "Mom thought it would keep things easier, you know, to avoid any drama." I shook my head. "I'm paying for this wedding, and I intend to enjoy it with a date by my side. I took dance lessons specifically

for your wedding, and I'm looking forward to it. There's no 'but' about it! Emma, if she wants to come alone, fine. If she wants a date, fine. But I'm bringing a date, and I won't hear any more about it." Emma nodded, understanding my point. "All right, Dad, I'll talk to her. And I can't wait to see those dance moves! Just could you bring someone a little closer to your age?" I laughed. "Maybe, but you'll have to get used to seeing me and Kim on the dance floor." When the big day came, I escorted Monzerat Flores

to the wedding. We disagreed about the sea green dress I picked for her, but I wanted her to have something new, and she eventually wore it. Walking Emma down the aisle was as emotional as I'd expected; a blend of pride and bittersweet joy. It was a wonderful day, and as I looked around, I felt grateful for everything in my life that had led me to this moment. Reception was lively, and Monserat, the kids, and I all danced well into the night. The only moment of tension came when Amber arrived with her own date. I wasn't

bothered by it. Throughout the wedding, Amber's date behaved like a boorish drunk, leering at me and later at several other women. When Emma asked him to do something, Amber swiftly escorted him out, visibly embarrassed. Later, in a brief encounter near the restrooms, she confronted Monserat, accusing her of stealing her man. Monserat remained calm, denying the accusation. "JN divorced you before we ever began dating," she said quietly, walking past Amber without further argument, unwilling to spoil Emma's special day. Months after the wedding, Mia stopped by my place, looking uncomfortable. I could tell something was bothering her,

so I asked, "All right, Mia, what's on your mind? You've been on edge all evening." Her face flushed. "Um, Dad, you know sometimes Mom talks about reconciling. She says she wants to win you back once she's done dating around." She paused, struggling to find the right words. "I guess I just wondered if you two, you know, had gotten close or anything." I bristled. "My personal life isn't really your concern, young lady, but no, I haven't been with your mother if that's what you're asking." "What's going on?" Mia hesitated, glancing away. "Well, the thing is, Mom

has an STD, Dad. I overheard her telling a friend she was treated for syphilis." I was stunned. Mia watched me carefully, seeing the sadness in my eyes. "I appreciate you telling me, honey," I replied, my voice softened, "but it's standard practice to let partners know so they can get tested." "I didn't know that. I just wanted to make sure you were okay," she said quietly. "I know Mom's still seeing other people. It's just hard when people talk about her." You know, a few days later, Vicki called, voicing similar concerns. She'd heard the rumors, likely worrying

about her own health. "If you're wondering, I haven't been with Amber," I assured her. "Believe me, I understand your worry, but there's not much I can do about her choices." Vicki sighed. "Her life has become a scandal, to put it mildly," she remarked. "Seems the longer she's single, the less she cares." Months later, Amber's STD scare had died down, and she began to plot a reunion, convinced that I missed her and would want her back. In her mind, I'd never leave her. She believed no one else could match her allure, assuming she was irreplaceable. She

might have been right if other women hadn't entered my life. Confident in her own beauty, she couldn't fathom that I might find happiness elsewhere. "I know he's great, but these women must be blind if they think he's on my level," she told Paulina over margaritas one evening, irritated by the attention I was getting. But even Amber couldn't deny it: my post-divorce life had been fulfilling, whereas hers had been a string of shallow encounters. One day, I picked up the phone to hear a familiar voice. I hadn't spoken to Amber in nearly two years and guessed

one of our daughters had given her my new number. I hadn't forbidden them from doing so, but I made it clear I didn't need to stay in touch with their mother. "Hi John," she said, her voice sugary. "I think it's time for us to talk." "I thought we agreed not to talk until Mia got married," I replied curtly. "But since that hasn't happened, I'd prefer we stick to silence." Amber laughed as though I made a joke. "Still the same John, trying to deny your feelings. Deep down you know you want me back." I shook my

head, unamused. "Still the same Amber, thinking the world revolves around you. Look, I don't hate you, but the past is done. I have no reason to go back." She sighed. "You're still angry with me, I know. Maybe I should have just cheated quietly, but that felt dishonest." "Amber, it was still cheating. Just because you warned me doesn’t make it less real. You did it because you thought I’d never leave. Did you think so little of me?" I asked, my voice even. "I know you think you're a ten, hell, a twelve, but these last few years

have shown me I'm more than just the husband of a beautiful woman. Other women see value in me and actually want to reciprocate emotionally. My life has been better than I ever imagined. Why would I want to go back to a one-sided relationship with someone who never respected me?" "Are you sure about that, John?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Absolutely," I said, feeling a sense of closure as I hung up. Turning to the woman next to me, I grinned. "Ready for round two?" I asked Kim, who flashed a smile and took my hand.

Years later Kim found her soulmate and married him. I continued my relationships with Monserat and Vicki, loving them each in my own way without remarrying. They loved me too and both accepted our unconventional dynamic. Several years later, they both joined me at Mia's wedding, which didn't sit well with Amber. She hadn't brought a date, and I could tell she wasn't pleased. She voiced her frustration to Mia during lunch afterward. Mia only shrugged. "After Emma, Monserat and Vicki are the closest people in Dad's life. They love him for who he is and put him before their

own needs, which I can't say for everyone. He was yours, and you left him just because you feared aging and thought he'd have no other options. Turns out you were wrong." I was content with my life, even if it hadn't been my original plan. Leaving a situation I'd once deemed unacceptable led me to something better, something I hadn't expected. As for Amber, she was still attractive. And frequently approached, enjoying short-lived relationships but finding nothing lasting, reflecting on her choices, she sometimes admitted, if only to herself, that she regretted the path she'd chosen. I'd been hers

to keep, but in her search for more, she'd let it all slip away.