We live in the suburbs and have two children, ages 10 and 12.
Our marriage is relatively healthy—we love each other and we still have sex.
My husband had been nothing but supportive of my new job.
He never complained when I got home late, which happened often. Most of them were off-putting, showing close-up photos of men’s erections or, worse, men with what I suspected were their kids and spouses.
“I can only meet during the day because I don’t want to risk hurting anyone at home. I will make you feel good and am sexually open to anything that doesn’t involve pain.
I hope to hear from you.” I briefly contemplated replying, as he was an attractive man.
“I seek a connection with a smart, funny, mature, manly, professional man,” I wrote.
“You are in your 40s, dark-haired, blue-eyed, tall, fit and attractive.” I posted photos in a “private showcase” that someone could view only if I sent them a “key.” In one photo I was wearing a little black dress at a gala dinner; in another I posed like a ski bunny somewhere in Quebec.
My first date was with a realtor on a Wednesday afternoon.I visited the gym more often, lost some weight and even underwent some laser cosmetic procedures, all in attempts to delay the inevitable.My husband and I had married in our early 20s, fresh out of university.He was attractive, with a chiseled face and a broad smile.He’d ended their first date by kissing her passionately—something she hadn’t experienced in years. She and I had met years earlier while working for the same PR firm and had bonded over a shared crush on an extremely handsome younger colleague.I should have felt guilty embarking on this betrayal. The ages of the men contacting me ranged from 27 up to the mid-60s.But quite a few of them were intriguing: I was approached by a surgeon at the Toronto General Hospital, a finance director with a branch of the Ontario government and a detective with the Toronto Police Service.I quickly finished my drink, gently told him I didn’t feel the same way and then left, scurrying back to my office through the PATH system.My next date was lunch with an architect at Alice Fazooli’s.I told my boss I had a dentist appointment and ducked out to the Library Bar at the Royal York hotel, wondering if we’d find each other attractive or if he’d even show.The man who arrived was at least a decade older than his profile photo.