Cheating Wife Tried To Cover Her Affair With Open Marriage. Revenge. Sad Audio Story

[Music] I'm telling you, Louise, my best friend Janet said, "HEK, a typical man. He'll hear your proposal and think about what he's going to get." "I don't like the idea of him being with others," I replied. "Janet, I didn't say he would sleep with anyone." "Louise, he's 40 and past his prime. Do you really think he'll be entertaining 20-year-olds every weekend? He'll stay home with the kids, and you can live your best life." "Do you think that won't backfire?" I asked, looking at my friends and co-workers. "Louise, James is desperate to get you into

bed," Annie replied. "By asking for it, you'll just have fun with him without feeling guilty," Marie added. "Your husband will be busy with work and kids; just keep him entertained occasionally, and he won't suspect a thing." The more we talked, the better it sounded. I'd been happily married to Mark for 18 years, with two kids, a house, and annual vacations. We worked hard and were generally happy. But as I approached 40, I felt something was missing. I wanted a thrill. My husband still loved me and was a romantic, but I felt bored. That's when Janet

suggested new possibilities. My friends at work also talked about modern relationships. I wasn't sure if my husband would agree, but my friends kept convincing me. That night I decided to talk to him. "I'll talk to him tomorrow night after dinner," I told them. "It'll be fine," Janet assured me. "HEK will be grateful, and if you need help, one of us can keep him entertained." I didn't like the idea of my friends with my husband, but if it meant I could have my own lovers, I'd accept it. The idea of a boyfriend sounded appealing. I'd only

had three boyfriends before Mark, and none lasted long. I never had a one-night stand, but young men at work reminded me I was still desirable. This boosted my confidence. Coming home, my husband suspected nothing. When he hugged me, he had no idea what was coming. I worried about the outcome and shed a few nervous tears. The next day was Sunday, and we always did something fun as a family; however, our teenagers preferred their friends' company. Dinner was disappointing as the kids were on their phones. "Don't worry, honey; the only thing distracting me is you," my

husband said. I felt guilty knowing what I was going to ask him later. Dinner went as usual. Mark enforced a no-phones rule, which the kids eventually appreciated. After dinner, I told the kids, "I need to talk to your father. It's not for little ears." "Are you having another child?" our daughter asked excitedly. "No, nothing like that," I said, seeing curiosity on my husband's face. "It's important." He didn't know what to expect but poured us both a glass of wine and sat across from me, silent but attentive. Though usually an extrovert, he could be quiet and

thoughtful, living by the motto, "Be silent and be thought a fool; speak and remove all doubt." I gathered my thoughts. "Are you happy?" I asked. "With what?" he replied. "With everything. Our life." "I have a loving wife, two great kids, a nice home. We live comfortably and have good careers and friends. We're doing well." "I'm glad you think so, but I'm bored." Mark was silent for a minute, then said, "You're bored?" "Yes. I love you, but I need more excitement." "Am I not enough?" "It's not about you, Mark; it's about my needs." I tensed, sipping

my wine. "I've been talking to friends and researching. Traditional relationships are evolving." "Don't give me that new-fangled nonsense!" Mark said. "Just tell me what you want." "I want an open marriage, Mark. I want us to date other people." His face changed, anger flashing in his eyes. He gripped his wine glass tightly. "Can you repeat that?" "I want an open marriage so we can date other people. Think about it; you could be with younger women." He was silent, clearly upset. "No way," he growled. "We made vows to renounce all others. I take that seriously." "Have you,

Mark? I still take our vows seriously, but things can change. We can still love and honor each other, but I need this." Those words hurt him. His jaw clenched, rage in his eyes, but he held back. He stood up and walked to the back door. "Where are you going?" I asked. "To think," he replied. "My wife just told me she wants to be with other people. I don't want to be around her right now." His voice broke as he left, calling me a strumpet. I didn't see him for the rest of the night. The next

morning, his side of the bed was untouched. I showered and went to work, finding our kids at breakfast but no sign of Mark. "Where's your dad?" I asked. "He left early for work," our daughter replied. "Said he might be back late," our son added. For the first time in our marriage, he left without kissing me goodbye. It felt unpleasant. At work, I texted him that I loved him, avoiding mentioning last night's discussion. I tried calling him at lunch, but it went to voicemail, so I left a sweet message about loving him and growing old together.

That evening, his car wasn't home when I arrived. I feared he might be at a bar drowning his sorrows, but he came home a bit later. No kiss, just a brief greeting before disappearing outside. Our kids didn't seem to notice. At dinner, he chatted with them as usual, but barely spoke to me. After dinner, he asked the kids to go to their rooms, saying he needed to talk to me. This time there was no wine. He sat across from me, clearly upset. "I know you won't let this go, Louise," he said. "Your friends are filling

your head..." With nonsense, I researched open relationships. Today, I know if I say no, you'll end up cheating on me; either way, I'll lose. He raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, you win, but we need rules: no men in our house." "I wouldn't do that," I assured him. "Our bed stays sacred; lovers should use protection until tested for STDs. I don't want to date or see your lovers. If you've been with someone, we'll have less fun together from now on. I'm not responsible for your romantic, emotional, or physical needs. Do you understand?" Distracted by thoughts

of potential love, I didn't fully grasp what he meant. I figured I'd date for a year or two, then return to our normal life. He stood up, his anger gone, but replaced with contempt. I saw pain in his eyes, and I knew it was my fault, but I remembered my friend's advice to be selfish for once. He would eventually get over it. He didn't come to bed that night. Alone, I downloaded dating apps, created a profile, and waited for messages. Then I called Janet. "So, how did it go?" she asked excitedly. "He agreed, but he's

not happy. His ego is wounded, but he'll deal with it. Young men today are great, or maybe I'm just lucky. I know James at work is eager to be with me." For the rest of the week, things were cold at home. The kids likely noticed my husband barely speaking to me, but they didn't mention it. He returned to our bed but showed no affection, only saying goodnight without hugging or kissing me. Friday morning, I told him I was going out with the girls that night. He hummed faintly, gave me a look I was starting to

recognize, then picked up his bag and left without another word. I had packed a bag in case of a major fight. I kissed the kids goodbye and told them I might be home late. At work, my co-workers were thrilled about my plans. I showed them my change of clothes, and the excitement increased. I sent a picture to Janet, who assured me something would happen that night. I spent the afternoon telling three young men that I now had permission to play away from home. "Are you serious?" James asked when I invited him for drinks. "Did your

husband agree?" "Don't mention him. Just know that I'll be at the nearest bar with my girlfriends. If you show up, you might need to keep me company." "What bar?" he asked confidently. I told him, and he smiled, saying he would meet me there. After lunch, a coworker whispered, "Are you really going to entertain James so soon?" "Why not? My husband agreed, so I'm not wasting time." "You're on Tinder?" I laughed. "I've had so much interest in a day! Young men love older women. My husband can't compete with that." "And how does he deal with it?"

"We don't talk about it. He stays home with the kids." "Does that seem fair?" she smiled. "Who says it's fair? They agreed to it. If they can't find other women, that's their problem." I wasn't sure my husband would even look for another woman. He was monogamous, so his agreement was odd. I tried to focus on work but kept texting Janet. At 5:00 p.m., I changed, applied more makeup, and met Janet and the girls. We were soon surrounded by young men, and James appeared, excited to see me. We found a booth and talked. When I suggested

we go to my booked hotel room, he practically dragged me out to cheers from my friends. We pounced on each other in the hotel room. Later, I showered, dressed, and checked out, ignoring the receptionist's judgmental look. At home, I found the bedroom empty and Mark in the study. Shaking him gently, he woke and met my gaze with cold, emotionless eyes. "Go back to sleep, Louise," he said, rolling over and ignoring me. "Are you coming to bed?" "I'm in bed," he replied. "I told you the rules." "Louise, you think I'm going to share a bed with

you after tonight?" "Fine then," he scoffed. Back in the bedroom, I changed and got into bed, missing his presence beside me. If he wanted to sulk and sleep alone, that was his problem. If this continued, I wouldn't come home. For the first couple of months, I limited my date nights to Fridays and Saturdays, trying to maintain our relationship, but he rarely shared a bed with me now, and the kids were noticing. When I asked Mark about it, he gave me a scathing look and offered to explain to them what I had asked him to do.

"You agreed to it," I objected. "Under duress," he growled. "You were going to have fun either way, but I wasn't giving you a divorce. You weren't taking the kids away." "I would never have taken them, Louise. Your behavior is injuring them. They know what's happening." "I wouldn't touch you now; I don't know what STDs you're carrying." His words took my breath away. I knew he was upset, but his anger and hatred were intense. I considered slapping him but knew he'd punch back harder. Things grew colder between us; we were a marriage in name only. We

hadn't had lovemaking since I asked for an open marriage. Did I miss him? Yes, I missed being in love with my husband and the way he held me, but I wasn't ready to give up my new lifestyle. Almost every weekend, I had a new date from Tinder. Janet and the girls suggested meeting regularly after work, so my outings increased to weeknights and weekends. Sometimes I didn't make it home, staying at Janet's or a friend's house when too drunk to return safely. I started storing clothes at work or Jan's to save time. After six months. There

were weeks I barely went home. I was living my best life but didn't realize the damage I was doing to my marriage and family. I'll be honest from the start: the night my wife asked for an open marriage, my love for her died. Some may wonder how I could fall out of love after 20 years, but betrayal and disrespect can do that. With a few words, she trampled our vows. It felt like an excuse to cheat guilt-free. As I cooled off outside, I knew I had to handle this calmly. It was clear her friends had

coached her. I needed to talk to someone. I called Emily. "Hi, Mark." "Hi, Emily." "Okay, what's wrong? We've been friends for 35 years; you can't fool me." Everything came out - all anger and hatred. I hated my wife because she ripped my heart out. I don't remember my exact words, but it wasn't pleasant. "Are you sitting down, Mark?" "No." "Sit down. I'll tell you what to do. This won't be like my situation with Adam; you have to play it differently. Rely on me." "What should I do?" "Part of me wants to walk away, but I

can't leave the kids, and custody battles rarely favor men. I'm not going to be a part-time dad." "Stay married out of convenience. Turn off your emotions. Don't be her shoulder to cry on. The thought of making love to her after she's been with someone else is sickening." "Exactly. Cut yourself off from her emotionally, but keep the house and kids. Focus on yourself and them. Go to the gym, find hobbies, reconnect with friends. Most importantly, be there for the kids; they'll understand what's happening. She'll focus on her own needs and may eventually leave." "What if she

falls in love with someone else?" "Then she'll have to choose: stay with the family in name only or leave." "Part of me wants to leave now, but I want to stay with the kids." "Use the gray rock method. Show complete disinterest in her. Make interactions with you unrewarding. Hide your emotions and keep conversations short and direct." "Will it work?" "Probably. Her request shows disinterest in you and the family. Focus on the kids. If you divorce, wait until the youngest is 18. Live as neighbors if necessary." "Thanks, Emily." "Always here for you, Mark. Focus on your

kids and yourself." "Will you forgive her?" "No. We'll divorce eventually. For now, we'll just be roommates." "That's a good mindset. Don't do anything stupid." "I won't. I'll protect myself." "Where will you sleep tonight?" "Not in the marital bed." "I'll visit you soon. You'll need friends for what's ahead." "Thanks, Emily. One more thing, Mark: I know it's tough, but you need to take advantage of this. Women will love you. You're successful, trim, and handsome. You're a great father. Go on dates." "I'm not sure." "Just think about it. You deserve happiness too." Going gray rock was hard,

and I'd snapped at Louise more than once. Each time, I berated myself, but she got what she wanted, so what did she care? The first night she stayed over with someone else nearly liquidated me. She even had the nerve to ask me to join her in bed. I barely restrained myself from spewing my thoughts. Any residual love for her died that night. I'll always care for her as the mother of our children, but the passion was gone. I hardened my heart, preparing for the inevitable. Following Emily's advice, I focused on myself and the kids. I

resumed going to the gym, hired a personal trainer, and took up cooking for the kids, bonding with my daughter. When Louise started disappearing on weekends, I sought help from my younger sister. She bragged on me for putting up with it but understood when I explained it was for the kids. "You should just leave with Emily," she said. "She's the one you should have married." I muttered, "Best not to know," when she asked about Louise's whereabouts. "When was the last time you did this?" she asked. "I'm not in the mood to talk about it." Emily suggested

finding a pretty girl for one night. My sister laughed. "At least three of my friends still hold a candle for you. The gym sessions are paying off, right?" "I feel more fit than I have in a while. When I work the bag, I imagine her or her boyfriends." "As long as you don't slap her!" "When was the last time you two talked?" "Last week at dinner. We only discuss the kids. She spends all her time on her phone. I saw three dating apps with dozens of messages." "I don't care anymore. She's my wife in name

only—an absolute strumpet." My sister muttered, and I agreed, but didn't say it out loud. Emily was the one person I relied on most. The kids adored Aunt Emily. As their mother faded from their lives, they appreciated Emily's presence, especially my daughter. Emily and I spent many evenings together, sometimes cuddling, but not more. "Daddy, why do you put up with this?" my daughter asked one night at dinner. Louise still came home occasionally for dinner but didn't notice I'd moved most of my stuff out of the marital bed. "Yeah, kids at school teased us, but we went

along with what they called 'Mom'," my son added. "We're not the only kids with divorced or weirdly married parents." I sighed, glancing at Emily, who gave me a reproachful look. "Did your mom ever explain what's going on?" I asked. "Not really. She just said things might change in the future," my daughter replied. "Dad, we're not little kids. We know everything from the internet. Just tell us," my son said. "We won't judge you. At least you're here. I can't remember the last time Mom said three words to me." My daughter wiped her cheeks. time with my

family, I said quietly. He sighed, looking frustrated. “This is my house now, Louise,” he replied, his tone lacking any warmth. “You made your choice. Don’t come back expecting everything to be the same.” I felt my heart drop. “I know things have changed. But I didn’t realize it would be like this.” The kids had moved into the other room, but I could sense their tension lingering in the air. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” he continued. “You’ve been gone for months. You can’t just pop back in and expect everyone to welcome you with open arms.”

“I didn’t come here to fight,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “I just wanted to see them.” “You should have thought about that before you decided to pursue your own happiness,” he shot back. “Is that what you think this is all about? My happiness?” I asked, incredulous. “I thought we were both trying to figure out a way to make this work.” Mark turned away, gazing into his beer as if the answer might magically appear at the bottom of the bottle. “You left. You chose this life. I’m just trying to adapt.” A heavy silence

fell between us, thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. “I miss you, Mark,” I finally murmured, the vulnerability pouring out of me. “I miss us.” His eyes flickered with something—was it sadness? Regret? I couldn't tell. “You miss what you had. But that doesn’t mean you can just come back and act like it’s still there.” “Please, Mark,” I said, desperate now. “Let’s not do this in front of the kids. Can we at least try?” He met my gaze for the first time since I walked in, and I saw a flicker of the man I used to

know. “What do you want from me, Louise?” “I want to be a family again,” I declared, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “I want to work through this, for them.” Mark took a deep breath, his expression softening ever so slightly. “It’s going to take more than just a weekend visit to fix this.” “I know,” I replied, nodding. “But I’m willing to try, if you are.” The tension in the room didn’t dissolve completely, but perhaps it eased a little. Maybe this was a step, albeit a small one, in the right direction. Time with

my family this weekend. He looked away, then nodded. "Good luck with that. I'm busy tonight and this weekend. As for the kids, you can always ask them." He turned to face me. "Remember the agreements, Louise. I don't care what you're doing now, but you can try to talk to the kids if you want; just don't hold your breath." After five minutes of talking to them, I realized neither wanted anything to do with me. Sighing, I went back to the bedroom, feeling alone in my own house. "Okay," I muttered, "if that's the way it is, I'll

just leave. See you later." "Probably not," our daughter replied sarcastically. I grabbed my bag, hurried out, and slammed the car door, hitting the steering wheel in frustration. Tears flowed as I blamed everything on my husband until I remembered his look when I first made the request and the night I came back from my first date. That look of indifference chilled me. I wondered if I had ruined everything that mattered. Had he been right? Had my friends led me astray? Maybe their husbands would have tolerated it, but Mark was always proud. Realizing the truth of our

agreement, I cried harder. He had completely disconnected from me. We were married only out of convenience, and I doubted we'd ever go back to the way things were. I couldn't turn to my friends; they'd be to blame for my marriage's collapse. Driving aimlessly, I eventually parked at a bar. Inside, I ordered a drink, which soon became two, then three. "Is this seat taken?" a kind voice asked. A man looked at me. "No, it's not taken," I replied, sniffling. "But I'm not sure I'd be good company." "Maybe you need some company. It's not nice to see

a woman sitting alone, looking lonely and frustrated." He sat down, bought himself a drink, and offered to buy me one. "Need someone to talk to?" "I'm not sure you'd want to hear my story." "Is it that bad?" "The more I think about it, the more I wonder if I've ruined everything." He held out his hand. "I'm Tom, and you are?" I took his hand. "I'm Louise." "Now we're no longer strangers. Someone or something has broken your heart. Are you sure you want to hear about this?" "I'm in no hurry." I told him the general story,

and he listened, nodding and understanding. When I finished, he ordered another drink for us. "Do you want to maintain your relationship, Louise?" "Honestly, I don't know if my husband will ever get our relationship back on track. He's just angry with me." "How can you fix anything if you won't talk to him?" "I just want my husband to love me again," I whispered. "These other men don't love me. It's just a distraction." After more drinks, I couldn't drive. Tom suggested I get a hotel or I could go home with him. "I live alone and have spare

bedrooms," he said. "I don't expect anything." I agreed. Tom called a cab, and I grabbed my overnight bag from the car. He lived on the other side of town. Once inside, he showed me the house, including the bedroom I would use. We had a nightcap on the couch, sitting next to each other. "You're a beautiful woman, Louise," he said softly, putting his hand on my thigh. "Ever think about finding one or two lovers who make you feel special?" "I don't want to fall in love with someone else," I replied. "You can love more than one

person," he said. I smiled, finding him very handsome and different from my husband. "I'm not here to tell you how to live your life, Louise. You know almost nothing about me." The next morning, I put on spare clothes and met him in the kitchen. After greeting me with a kiss on the cheek, we ate breakfast and got to know each other. Surprisingly, he was in an open relationship too. "I'm always honest with any woman I meet. I don't wear my wedding ring when my wife isn't around because it's annoying, but I always tell the truth

before we sleep together. My wife and I only see each other once a month." "Do you have children?" "They're grown and live with my wife most of the time." "Do you have many Mistresses?" "In the early days, I slept with any woman interested. Now I prefer real relationships." Sipping his coffee, he asked, "What are your plans for the weekend, Louise?" "I don't have any." "Would you like to spend it with me?" He took my hand. "I saw a beautiful, upset woman last night and wanted to comfort her. I also hoped she'd take an interest in

me." I smiled. "I'd love to spend the weekend with you, Tom." Tom was well-off; his house was luxurious, his car something my husband and I could never afford. After a day together, he took me to a top restaurant. We danced until late, and I kissed him first, making him smile. In the back of the cab, I snuggled against him. At home, after midnight, we sipped drinks and talked quietly before ending up in his bedroom. Sunday at breakfast, Tom gave me advice. He explained that his open marriage worked because he and his wife lived apart and

agreed on it. I had surprised my husband and forced him to agree. Tom insisted I repair my relationship with my children. He advised me to figure out how to make it work. He also suggested mending things with Mark, who seemed like a good man. "He's a wonderful man, almost as wonderful as your wife." "I love my wife and plan to retire with her soon. When I'm home, this all ends." "What does she think?" "She misses me, but has two lovers when I'm away. When I'm home, all her attention is..." On me, things seem to be

working out for you too, not without problems, but we avoid jealousy and resentment. After spending the afternoon together, he drove me back to the bar where my car was parked. With his arm around me, I realized I might have been approaching things wrong. One-night stands were fun, but left an emotional void. Tom, a decent man, gave me solid advice on how to make things work in my own marriage: keep in touch with your husband; the most important thing is your children; rebuild that relationship. "I'll do my best. When can we see each other again?" "As

soon as you want. I'm not seeing anyone else, but promise you won't be jealous if I meet someone else. I might get another semi-permanent boyfriend." He laughed, and I realized how much I liked him. "Now you're thinking right, Louise. You've had your fun, and that's fine, but now you realize you need something more serious and lasting—maybe lovers who truly care about you." I hugged him tightly. "I'll call you soon," I said. "I'm looking forward to it." Louise, I watched him drive away, then got into my car. Taking a deep breath, I drove home, thinking about

what to say to my family. I stopped by my friend's place to pick up my things. Janet seemed ready to argue, but I told her I was done with meaningless fun and needed a real relationship. She wished me luck as I left. When I got home, it was late. I gathered my clothes and headed to the kitchen. I heard noise from my husband's room. I had to hold back sobs, realizing he had separated our lives without finalizing the divorce. Our son, Matthew, was playing a video game on a new TV, and our daughter, Zara, was

studying nearby. Outside, I saw my husband on the new terrace hugging a woman who wasn't Emily. Matthew noticed me and gestured to Zara, who pulled out her headphones. I knelt between them, taking their hands, and tears rolled down my cheeks. "Please don't doubt that I love you," I said. "I'm sorry I missed things. I promise to be better." Matthew's lip quivered, and I hugged him tightly. "Why are you gone all the time, Mom?" he asked, breaking my heart. "I'm sorry, baby. I miss you. I'll try to be better. Are you really with other men?" "Let's

not talk about that, Matthew. That's for your father and me to deal with." I kissed his cheeks and ruffled his hair. "I'll try to attend all your games next season." Turning to Zara, I saw she was unconvinced. "You broke Daddy's heart, Mom," she declared. "What a wife!" "You're too young to understand." "I'm not too young," she shouted. "I'm 16, almost 17! I know what's going on!" "What happens in my marriage stays between your father and me, but your behavior affects us!" She burst into tears and ran away. I didn't hear Mark until I felt his

presence. "Are you staying for dinner, Louise?" he asked coldly. "I'll try to be here more often." "Mark, is this your wife?" a young woman asked. She was stunning and no older than 25. "I'm Cindy." "What about no visitors?" Mark I asked. "She's here to keep me company. Not that you have the right to tell me what to do. We have a free relationship, remember? I'm just exercising my rights." I felt annoyed and jealous watching Mark and Zara prepare dinner. Cindy sipped wine, smiling at Mark. My daughter had always been close to her father, but they

seemed even closer now. Mark graciously seated me at the table, but I was ignored. He continued his conversation with Cindy and Zara. After dinner, Mark walked Cindy to her car. He waved as she drove away and then walked back into the house. "Mark," I said quietly. He stopped and looked at me without anger or coldness. He wasn't smiling, but he seemed happy. "Can we talk, Mark?" He sighed, looking tired. "About what, Louise?" "About us. I'm still your wife; you're still my husband. I still love you. I never wanted this to happen." I thought he might

explode with rage, but he clenched his fists and sat down. "You wanted an open relationship, Louise. I accepted. When was the last time we slept in the same bed? I won't share a bed with my wife after she's dated other men. Remember what I said: no emotional support, no physical support. If you want love and affection, find someone else. This is what you wanted. I was happily married; now I'm married in name only." "Who is she?" I asked. "You brought another woman into our home?" "We never did anything here," he said bluntly. "And who she

is is none of your business. I don't care who you're with, and who I'm with is none of your business." He stood and looked at me with pity. "Everything that happened is a consequence of your decisions, Louise. I warned you: be careful what you wish for. You got what you wanted but didn't care about the impact on our family." Later, I was watching TV in the living room when my son appeared. I patted the seat next to me, and he sat down. "Do you miss your mom?" I asked. "Yeah," he said. Knowing I wouldn't sleep

with my husband that night, I turned off the lights and went to Mark's part of the house. One door was closed; the other ajar. He was on the couch with our daughter, who was trembling and crying. I knew I was the cause. If I walked in, things would get ugly. Sighing, I quietly closed the door and headed to my bedroom. It was no longer our bedroom, and I wasn't sure my husband would ever return to it. I took Emily's advice and decided if my wife... Could have fun, so could I. I quickly found many young

women interested in a successful 40-year-old man. Friends and co-workers set me up with women they knew. I didn't want to date anyone too young, but Cindy, 25, was too cute to resist. Charlotte, 28, was a career woman seeking love on her own terms. Melissa, in her early 30s, was a lawyer and an amazing lover. And then there was Jessica, 21, the daughter of a co-worker, who was very honest about her interest in me. "I'm partial to handsome older men," she said on her first date. "Mark, can I be honest?" "Sure." "Your wife is an idiot.

The only surprise is that this arrangement works. I'm jealous sometimes, but I knew it wasn't forever. I wanted someone to make me feel special, and we all know about Emily." "I heard she extended her deadline." "Yes, I now have a year to have fun." "Do you think she's afraid to commit to you?" "Maybe. We've always been in love, but it's been platonic." "Then you need to show her how you feel." "How can you be so young and wise?" "All your girlfriends think it's a good idea. We all love Emily and agree you two are perfect

for each other." Jessica clung to me. "Don't feel guilty; sometimes a woman needs to show she wants you." The next morning, we had breakfast together. Then I drove her home. After a long kiss, she went inside with a dreamy smile. I knew I'd hear about it at work. Back home, Matthew was yelling into his gaming headset, and Zara was at the table, busy with her own things. I kissed her head and cheek. "Have you two been okay the last two nights?" "I'm 16, Daddy. I can take care of myself." "And your brother?" "He hasn't been

too intrusive." "Any sign of your mother?" "Not since Wednesday." "Fair enough. What do you want for dinner?" We had dinner together. Matthew ate quickly and returned to his game. Zara grinned at me as we cleaned up. I grabbed a beer and went to the deck. Zara joined me, settling on my lap. "Daddy, are you happy?" "Hm, depends. Am I happy with you?" "Yes." "I love my children. Am I happy with my current situation?" "No." "Am I happy with my personal life, besides your mother?" "Yes." "Quite content, I think." "Mom has a boyfriend now." "Good for

her." "You really don't care, do you?" "No, honey. We live separate lives. The only things we share are you two, some finances, this house, and a piece of paper." "You two were never meant to be involved." "I assumed your mom's disappearances would be noticed, but I wouldn't lie for her. I tried not to do the same, but she flaunted it, almost like I couldn't do the same." "You've met some beautiful women, Dad." "Yes, I have four beautiful women who know I'm married. They know it's not forever. They know I'm not leaving my marriage because of

Emily." "Daddy, are you in love with her?" Zara whispered. She rarely called me Daddy now, only when she wanted to say something important. I pulled her closer, pondering her question. "Emily is my best friend, Zara. She's been by my side longer than anyone. I've helped her through breakups and even fought guys who mistreated her." "Sounds like love, Daddy." "Your mother took my love for granted. Emily never did that. We've never been in a relationship, but I can rely on her more than anyone. Your mother knew that. Emily warned her that if she broke my heart,

she might end up wanting to be with me." "But are you having fun in the meantime?" "Emily knows everything I do and even encourages me." "That's what friends are for, Dad. But I'll be thrilled when you marry her." "Wait, what did she say?" "Something." "No, but you deserve to be happy, and Mom hasn't made you happy since she made that request." "Are you going to divorce her soon?" "No. She lives her life, and I live mine. When you and your brother leave home, we'll divorce." Emily arrived Tuesday night, and my daughter seemed to play matchmaker

the whole time. My son was oblivious, but I cast reproachful glances at my daughter. After they went to bed, Emily snuggled up to me, wrapping her arm around my waist. She started giggling. "Your daughter wasn't subtle today, Mark," she whispered. "No, she's been talking about us getting married." Emily pressed closer. "And what do you think of that idea?" "We need to get a divorce first." "Do you love me, Mark?" "The only people I love more are my children and Louise." "I don't love her anymore, Emily. So apart from your children, you love me the most?"

"Yes. I loved Louise more once. We dated, married, had kids, and built a life together. But now I think about you a lot. I'm grateful to Louise for giving me two wonderful children." That night, Emily stayed with me. Nothing physical happened; we weren't ready. My daughter was thrilled to have Emily with us at breakfast. My son wasn't bothered and told me about his mother's apology and promised to be more present. She had been showing up more often. He also mentioned his mother's standing dinner invitation, which his sister never accepted. Walking Emily to her car, she

said, "I'd like to stay the night again." "It's fine because we don't have love-making; that's one of the rules, right?" "Yes, and I'm sticking to it too." Louise came home on Wednesday, hoping for a family dinner, but I had a date with Cindy. She begged me to stay. As I walked to the door, I gave her a neutral look. "Please stay, Mark." "It's not my fault, Louise." "But we can—" "I have plans. Our children knew I wouldn't be here tonight. I'll see them tomorrow." "Can't you stay, please, for me?" I glared at her, then walked

out the door. Cindy was waiting for me at the pub. Louise didn't need to know about it; it was none of her business. "He hates me," I muttered, snuggling up to Tom. I slept at home alone but enjoyed these moments with Tom, usually three times a week. I hadn't found a second steady lover yet and wasn't sleeping around as much. "I think it's over, Tom. Do you know what he's doing?" I chuckled. My daughter loves telling me about all the women he dates; she hopes he divorces me and marries Emily, his best friend, and these

other women. They visit the house; Mark cooks for them. He used to cook for me, and your daughter—she's not happy with you. She takes pleasure in our marriage collapsing; she blames me for everything, daddy's little girl. I took a moment to control my emotions. "I broke his heart, Tom. He shut me out, but our daughter knows what he's thinking. What are you going to do?" "I think my daughter is right. I don't know how to save our marriage because Mark won't talk to me. We only discuss the kids or finances. I text him about how

much I miss him, but he never responds. I don't call because I know he won't answer." Tom made me feel better by making love to me. If I couldn't get my husband back, Tom was someone I enjoyed spending time with. Another man, Daniel, was interested but unsure about dating a married woman, despite my assurances that my marriage was failing. I loved spending time with Tom; he took me on dates, we spent weekends together, and had deep conversations. We tried not to talk about our other partners, but sometimes they came up. A few months later, we

were lying in bed. "I have a question," Tom said. "Anything," I replied. "How would you feel about going on trips with me? I travel a lot for business in the States and in Europe. I won't be so lonely with a beautiful woman by my side." "What about your wife?" "She's too busy to join me. I want you to come, Lou. Really. I love spending time with you and want you to keep me company while I'm gone." "How long would I be gone?" "A couple of weeks to a month, depending on my deals." "I'll need to

tell the kids, of course." "I know your daughter is 17 and your son is 15. How was her birthday?" "Awkward. Both families are aware of the situation. I thought she didn't want me there, but I think Mark insisted on my presence. Maybe there's still some love left. He knows my relationship with our daughter is broken, but our son still loves me. I hear from him almost every day and try to call him every night." "When do you need to know?" "As soon as possible. I'm leaving for the States on Thursday." On Monday, I came home

to no guests. Mark was preparing dinner with Zara, and they both looked at me when I entered. "Are you here for dinner?" Mark asked. "Yes. Do you mind? It's still your house." I almost cried; it was the nicest thing he'd said since I made the request. Matthew noticed me, came over, and hugged me. He was still growing taller and would soon be as tall as his father. For the first time in months, the four of us sat down to dinner. We didn't talk much, but I couldn't stop smiling at my husband. I still hoped to

save our marriage. After dinner, Mark served dessert: ice cream with chocolate sauce. Everyone relaxed, but I knew my words would ruin the mood. "Mark, I know you don't want to hear about my business, but Tom asked me to go on a business trip. I won't be around for a couple of weeks to a month." "If it affects our children, I'll listen." "Tom wants me to accompany him on trips; his wife doesn't want to go, so he asked me. It means I won't be here as often." "It's okay, Mom," Matthew said. "Where will you go?" "To

the United States and Europe," I replied. Zara said nothing, her expression impassive. I looked at Mark, who was looking at me with an unreadable expression, until he asked a question I wasn't expecting. "Do you love him?" "I love you, Mark," I answered quietly. "I'm still your wife, and you're still my husband." "I didn't ask that, Louise. I asked, do you love him?" "I... I don't know. I enjoy his company." I looked away, then back at him. "And do you love everyone you're with?" He smirked and started clearing the table; Zara got up to help him,

and I knew the conversation was over. I retired to the living room, feeling somewhat relieved. When Matthew joined me later that evening, I was already in bed when the door opened. A warm body hugged me; it took a few seconds to realize it was my son. "I'm sorry, Mom," he whispered, turning away. I hugged him tightly and burst into tears. He stroked my back and whispered that he loved me, which made me feel better. "Thank you, baby," I whispered. I spent the next two nights at home before heading out with Tom on our first trip

together. Mark and Zara were polite but mostly ignored me. Matthew was affectionate, sensing my loneliness. "I tried to explain things to him. Dad always said we should keep in touch with you," he told me, making me smile. I arranged to work remotely while away, so Thursday morning, I packed for Tom to pick me up. When I got downstairs, Mark had left for work. The kids were having breakfast. Zara barely said two words to me, which I expected as she was leaving. I asked if I... "Could hug her," she softened a bit and hugged me briefly.

"I really love you, Zara," I whispered. "You're my first born." She murmured that she hoped I had a good time and left. Matthew hugged me and asked me to take pictures if I was sightseeing. Tom picked me up a few minutes later. Over the next few months, I traveled a lot with Tom to North and South America, Asia, and Europe. He paid for everything, and I was introduced as his partner. I developed a crush on him; he was romantic and generous. One day, I was checking social media and saw what I'd been missing. Mark didn't

block me and used it to update family and friends, seeing pictures of him and the kids in New Zealand. I felt hurt; neither Mark nor the kids had mentioned it. Seeing Emily in many pictures stung the most. After lunch, Tom found me crying. He hugged me and checked my phone. "I feel partly to blame," he said. "You're spending a lot of time with me; maybe you want to stop traveling for a while and reconnect with the kids. Are you sure about that, Louise?" He smiled at me. "I love you, Louise." That made me smile. We

had expressed our love on our first trip, but I couldn't imagine leaving my wife. "Introducing your children to me would be—I'm not sure." After returning home, I tried to spend more time at home and with Tom. It was hard to corner Mark, but one evening I did. "You took the kids to New Zealand," I asked. "Why?" "I wanted to give them a vacation; they hadn't had one in years." "Why exclude me?" "Because you were with your boyfriend at the time," he replied. "I would have cancelled." He turned to look at me. "I'm not going to

pretend to be a happy family to fulfill your needs, Louise. I wanted to take our children on vacation; you're too busy jetting around the world with your boyfriend." Emily came with us for company while the kids had fun. Emily is my best friend and has been my support since this arrangement began. I invited her over for company. "What about Christmas?" "What about it?" "Are you planning anything? Am I involved?" "That's up to you, Louise." "Mark, if you just talk to me—" His eyes turned cold. "We have nothing to talk about since the night you made

your request. You've made your thoughts on our marriage clear." "Mark, I miss you. I want my husband back. I can't remember the last time we shared a bed, and it's your fault." "Louise, I refuse to be carnal with a wife who wants other men." "But you agreed to it." He chuckled, shaking his head. "You still don't get it. I never wanted this. I wanted my wife to stay faithful. You pushed for an open marriage, so I had to agree or lose you. Either way, I lost." "I would never cheat on you, Mark." "You were so

eager to be with other men. Don't take me for a fool, Louise; you're with other women too." "Mark, don't make this all about me." He stepped closer, his anger melting away. "Your friend Janet put this nonsense in your head. Do you know her husband finally kicked her out? She partied and brought men home while he took care of the kids." I was shocked; I hadn't spoken to Janet in months and never expected her to be so disrespectful to her husband. I realized Mark had probably figured everything out from the start. "I don't know what they'd

say." He said emotionless, "You took advice from people who destroyed our marriage. There's no going back." He stepped forward again. "Why did you do it, Louise? Was I a bad husband or lover? Did I make you unhappy?" "I was bored, not good enough." "Boredom isn't a reason to tell your husband you want other men." I met his gaze, my eyes filling with tears. I couldn't explain without further destroying our marriage. I'd realized I'd made a selfish request, forced him into something he hated, and listened to bad advice. My friends made dating seem exciting, and I

found that attractive. They filled my head with stories of advantages and opportunities in an open marriage. And what did they say about the husband who had to deal with that? I lowered my head. "Janet said it was never fair." "I never wanted anyone else, Louise," he said sadly. "Until that night, I was a happily married man. Your request showed complete disrespect for me and our marriage." I sighed; we hadn't spoken like this since the night he agreed to the arrangement. I knew this was the end of our marriage. His love for me had faded, at

least as far as being my husband. "What do we do, Mark?" "Keep this arrangement until the kids are 18, then we'll decide." I burst into tears, and to my surprise, he put his arms around me, breaking me completely. I collapsed against him, clinging tightly. I knew he didn't love me, but he probably still didn't want to see me cry. The love was gone, but so was the hate. "We'll spend Christmas together, Louise," he said, "but I'm living my own life now. Our marriage is practically over; you should realize that by now. You're trying to hold

on to something that has withered and died. Even if I stop everything, you're different now, and so am I." "I don't want to lose you, Mark; you're my husband, and I still love you." He sighed but didn't let go, gently caressing my back. He remained silent, knowing the truth already. I knew what he was thinking and what he would eventually do. I couldn't hate him for that. Finally, he let go, giving me a chance to wipe my eyes. I met his gaze. Gaze. There was no warmth, but he understood my emotions. "Do you want some

dinner?" he asked. I almost cried again; it had been too long since we had dinner together. We cooked something simple and filling. The conversation was awkward, and some topics were off-limits, but after a couple of beers, we started reminiscing. "Where are the kids?" I finally asked. "Zara is out with friends. Matthew is at a sleepover. I was just enjoying a night alone." "It's okay, Louise. I think we needed this conversation." "Zara hates me." He shook his head. "No, she doesn't hate you. She's Daddy's little girl and doesn't like that her mom has a boyfriend." "What

does she think about Daddy having a girlfriend?" He chuckled. "I think she's a little jealous; she's felt neglected." "Do you love Emily?" "Mark, you know I love Emily. She's been my best friend most of my life." "Are you with her now?" "No. She's been there for support. She won't be with me until we're divorced." I couldn't hold back the tears. "Are you serious about this divorce? Are you happy in our marriage? This is the longest conversation we've had in a year." "I wish things were like they were before, but you can't turn back time. What's

done is done." He invited me to have a drink in his cabin. It was decorated with love, warm, and the kids loved spending time there. We shared a bottle of wine, talking about the past. The next morning, I woke up in his arms. I realized I'd had too much to drink. Disappointment set in when I realized nothing had happened. Mark opened his eyes and smiled. "Apparently, we had a bit to drink last night." "We're still dressed, so nothing happened." Mark snuggling closer, I asked, "Would you be interested?" "When was the last time you did it?"

"Over a week ago." He raised his eyebrows. "I've never stopped finding you attractive, Louise. You're still a beautiful woman." "Do you mean that?" "Of course. I'm not going to lie about that." "Mark, I know you don't particularly like me, but would you entertain your wife? We haven't done anything in over a year. I miss being with you." He sighed and pulled me tighter, whispering he was sorry. I whispered back that he should never apologize; he had closed off a part of himself from me, and he couldn't give me that part anymore. "Thank you for telling

me I'm still beautiful," I whispered. He disappeared to take a shower, then got dressed and had a quick breakfast. As he was leaving, I asked for a hug. He put his bag down and hugged me tightly for the first time in a year. In a way, it was a symbol of the end—one last hug before he left. But I knew one day we would hug for the last time before our marriage ended. "I love you, Mark," I whispered. "I've never stopped loving you." He didn't respond. I followed him to the driveway, watching him get into

his SUV. I couldn't resist waving, and he honked before driving away. "You're 18 now, Zara, and Matthew is 16. I think it's time. Are you finally going to divorce her?" "You shouldn't be so excited." "Zara, Dad, your marriage has been a sham for too long. You deserve to be happy with someone who loves you." "I'll let Matthew know, and when your mom gets back, I'll give her the paperwork. I'd prefer a joint application to make it faster. Your mom knows I want a divorce, so this shouldn't be a shock." "Did you tell Emily?" "Yes, she

wanted to wait until we were divorced, but we've waited long enough. I'll discuss living arrangements with your mom." Louise hadn't lied to our son about Tom; she spent time with him when he traveled, but was home when she wasn't away. We spent Christmas together, almost like old times. My side of the family was friendly, and her side seemed somewhat supportive. Talking longer than we had in over a year helped thaw our feelings. We became friends again, but the love and closeness were gone. We could be around each other and talk easily. I knew she still

loved me, and I hoped I might rediscover my love for her, but my feelings weren't the same. I couldn't love her like I used to. When she came home a few nights later, I gave her a couple of days to settle in. I wasn't going to be cruel and file for divorce immediately. The hatred I felt in the first few months had long gone. Finding my own girlfriends helped me understand her, up to a point. Emily helped me stay calm. One evening, we had dinner as a family, and Zara was affectionate with her mother. I

felt it was because she knew what was coming. Matthew always loved his mother, though he knew what was happening. He was upset but understood it was necessary. Alone with Louise, I asked her to wait at the table while I got the papers and placed them in front of her. She immediately cried, realizing what they were. Without looking, I said, "I can't apologize for this, Louise. The only thing that could have been different was doing it 12 months later, but I stayed to be near the kids. After I stopped hating you, I didn't mind sharing a

house. We never brought lovers here and never flaunted our relationships." I took her hand. "Read the papers. If you agree, we can file them as a joint application. Zara is 18 now, so she's not considered a child. Matthew is 16; I think he should stay here until he's 18. What do you want to do?" "That's up to you, Louise." I made sure she was looking into my eyes as I added, "I'm going to be with Emily after the divorce. I'll propose." To her and likely move in with her. As for this house, you can buy

me out or we can sell it. Are you going to stay here? I don't plan on leaving yet, Louise. Our children are grown, and it's time for us to move on. I never wanted this, Mark, she whispered, wiping her cheeks. I know, Louise; you wanted it to be short-term, but it lasted. I've told the other women I'm divorcing you and moving on with Emily. My words hurt her, and she cried harder. I continued to hold her hand. If this was a year ago, I would have said things that would have broken your heart even more.

I don't want to do that now. I want to end our marriage on good terms. Emily warned me about breaking your heart; she always looked out for my best interests. Can we stay friends? Mark, we're already friends, aren't we? She smiled. We've gotten closer in the last few months than we had in the 12 months after your request, but our relationship isn't what it used to be. We have two children, and that will always bind us. When will you move out? I'll coordinate with Emily if you want me to move out. If you want me

to stay, I'll stay, but you'll have to accept Emily visiting in our relationship. I'm not sure I can live with that, Louise whispered. Then I'll leave. Emily is happy for me to be with her all the time. She really loves you, doesn't she? I had no regrets until that night. Marrying you was the best day of my life, equal to the birth of our children. I loved you with all my heart for so long. Go through the papers and sign them. I'll talk to Emily and arrange a moving date. She didn't cry much. I hugged

her and stroked her back. I knew I had just broken her heart; she hoped we could save our marriage, but she knew I had talked about divorce more than once. In the evening, after moving to my side of the house, I called Emily and told her I had given the papers to Louise. Emily tried to hide her excitement as she asked when I would move in with her. I knew I would be moving out since Emily owned her house and was looking forward to me joining her. I wasn't bothered by leaving the house to Louise,

as I knew she would agree to sell it once Matthew was old enough. The decision lifted a weight off my shoulders, and the tension eased. Louise was upset but kept her cool. Zara overheard Louise telling Tom she needed some time and had informed him of the situation. Louise disappeared the day I moved in, taking Matthew to her parents. They knew about everything, including our divorce. She signed the papers, and all that remained was the court's final judgment. Emily came over while I was packing. I greeted her with a kiss, and after loading my car with

boxes and suitcases, she took a few smaller boxes, insisting that her house would be our home. Leaving the house for the last time, I felt a heavy heart. We had been married for over 20 years, and while we didn't celebrate that anniversary, the house held many good memories. Before leaving, I wrote Louise a short letter to make her smile. I no longer felt hate or bitterness. It was time for both of us to live our lives. When we arrived at my new home, we dropped off our things and placed most of my clothes in our

bedroom. "I've had several tests," Mark, she whispered. "I'm still capable of having children." I smiled. "We can definitely discuss it." "I love you, Mark. Over the past few months, I've fallen in love with you. You've been my best friend for most of my life." "Believe me, I feel the same way now. When was the last time you were with someone?" "A couple of months ago. I got tested after my last time with Cindy. I'm fine." "When was your last time?" She blushed. "I was waiting for you to start the divorce. I knew I couldn't wait

until it was official." She made dinner that night, and we sat at a candlelit table, sharing wine and easy conversation. After dinner, we loaded the dishwasher, and she led me to her bedroom. Emily was different from Louise—shorter and slimmer. Two months later, a month after our divorce was finalized, I proposed to Emily after a lovely dinner at the harbor. She rushed to me when I put the ring on her finger. At home, she thanked me for making her so happy. I told the kids about the engagement. Zara was thrilled, as she adored Emily. Matthew was

happy but had hoped his parents would reconcile. I didn't tell Louise. During the divorce proceedings, we kept our distance, settling everything without seeing each other. Emily didn't want a lavish wedding, just an engagement ring, a white dress, and vows to make us husband and wife. Our second wedding was small, with only close family and friends. Both my children attended. Matthew was surprised but accepted the invitation, showing loyalty to his mother. I didn't invite Louise, knowing it would hurt her. By then, we were socializing again, and she had visited my house more than once. Emily didn't

mind Louise, but she suggested that my ex-wife lived with many regrets. On our wedding day, Emily was five months pregnant; she was radiant, looking forward to becoming a mother, and I couldn't wait to be a father again. Mark found his happiness the day he married Emily. I wasn't invited and probably wouldn't have gone if I had been. Despite everything, I was happy for them. Emily looked beautiful in the pictures. I had hated her for a while. After Mark moved out, those feelings faded. After she invited me over, we talked about everything. Marrying Mark had been

the best day of my life, matched only by the birth of our children. I regret asking for an open marriage and acting on it the next day. That day, my husband stopped loving and trusting me, marking the beginning of the end. My relationship with Tom slowed down after the divorce. I loved him, but he would never leave his wife. We eventually ended things amicably. Alone in the big house with just my son, as Zara had moved out for university, I felt the weight of my decisions. Zara blamed me for everything but still visited on weekends.

It would take time to fully mend our relationship. Finding love again was hard; men like Mark and Tom were rare. With Mark, I ruined a beautiful marriage, and Tom was a good-hearted man who never wanted a full commitment. I dated occasionally but found most men insincere. I was honest about my divorce, which led to harsh judgments and names. Years later, I met JN, who seemed like a good match. We dated, and though he was a decent lover, there were no sparks like with Mark or Tom. I decided to settle for companionship over passion. On Christmas

Day, I went to John's apartment, finding it empty. I discovered an address and drove there, finding his car and another unfamiliar one at the house. A woman answered the door. "Hello, can I help you?" "I'm looking for John." "And who are you?" "I'm his mistress." "I'm sorry, but I didn't know he was married." Her eyes darkened. "You didn't know? He never wore a ring or mentioned you." "I was in an open marriage and never would have gotten involved if I'd known." She sighed, thanking me as Jon appeared. "Oh crap," he whispered. "You're an idiot, JN."

"I said I never would have been involved if I'd known you were married," I replied. Diane, his wife, apologized to me. "I'm sorry, Diana. I've been through this before and had no idea." I looked at Jon again. "You're such an idiot, and by the way, it's over between us. I never lied about my past or why I got divorced. I know I screwed up, but you're just a cheating piece of crap." Getting back in the car, I refused to cry over him. I felt sorry for Diana and hoped they didn't have kids, or if they

did, that they were grown so the divorce wouldn't affect them. He'd probably claim I was crazy or lying, but I knew carnal details about him that only a wife would know. Driving aimlessly around town, I didn't know where to go. The kids were with Emily, Mark, and their families, and I didn't want to intrude, even though I had a standing invitation. I stopped at the house I'd kept after the divorce but couldn't bring myself to go inside and spend Christmas alone. Sighing, I drove to my ex-husband's home. Mark opened the door, saw me, and hugged

me as I cried. "I keep ruining everything," I sobbed into his chest. Unexpectedly, I felt another person hug me. "Stay with us," Emily said. "You're still family, Louise. Mark, you are always welcome to join us. Our children are here, and you can spend time with our daughter. I'll introduce you as Aunt Louise." I looked at Mark's face; he hadn't changed much since our divorce and still looked as happy as he did in the early years of our marriage. "Are you sure you're okay?" Both of them held my hands. "We're sure," Mark replied. "It's Christmas—a time

for family, gratitude, and forgiveness. I've already forgiven you, Louise. It's time you forgive yourself." My daughter smiled and hugged me as I held my grandson. Mark's parents were friendly as always, and Emily's parents were polite and welcoming. Matthew hugged me for what felt like hours. Spending the day with such a loving family made me smile again. Zara, her husband, and child left in the afternoon, and Matthew left shortly after to see his girlfriend. Both sets of parents left early, leaving me with Mark, Emily, and their three-year-old daughter. I explained what had happened while we sipped

wine; they were sympathetic and understanding. Mark even offered to confront JN, which made me smile. "I couldn't stay all night," I said, "but Emily suggested a place for me to stay. I'm going to sell the house," I told them. "It's too big for me now. I'll find an apartment or something." "Please stay tonight, Louise," Mark added. "We managed to live together for almost two years when things were tough. Now that we're friends, you don't have to leave." "Are you sure?" I noticed them glance at each other and smile. "Pack your things, Louise. You'll always be

welcome here," Emily replied. After a long shower, I watched from the doorway as Mark read a story to their daughter, holding back tears and remembering how he had done the same for our daughter long ago. Heading to the guest room that Emily had prepared, Mark gave me a hug before Emily did the same. "I hope we can be good friends in the future," she said quietly. "It means I get to see him more often." "Do you still love him?" I nodded, barely holding back tears. "I'm so sorry, Louise. I hope you understand." "I'm sorry too."

I heard their bedroom door close and shut my own door. Lying in bed, I hated being alone, but it was better than any other option but being with Mark. I pondered my life and future. Maybe I should focus on my career and grandchildren and give up dating. There was no jealousy in Emily; she had the man she wanted, and I wasn't a threat. Maybe I could just be her friend. Tomorrow was another day. Eventually, I would. Figure it out. [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] [Music]