Wife's Affair Don't Care

When my friend Paul called and said there was something he needed to talk to me about, I figured I knew what it was. I prepared myself for the rumor that had gotten to me a number of times. We met at the cafe that he had suggested, then we ordered coffee and I waited for him to start. Finally, he took a drink and looked over his coffee cup. "This is not easy, and maybe it's none of my business, but we are friends and I decided you needed to know. I'd want to if it was me," he said.

"Wait, before you start, let me ask, does it have to do with my wife having an affair?" I asked before he had a chance to give me his big exposé. He looked at me like I said the Pope was an atheist. "I appreciate the concern," I said, "but I know, and I don't care. I found out two months ago, and it is okay, really. She knows him from work, and it is not that big a deal. Listen," I said. "It's just sex, right, and if it's more than sex, then what should I do, stop loving her?"

He was totally shocked. We just sat there looking at one another without speaking for maybe three minutes. "You don't care?" he said finally, repeating what I had said as if it was beyond belief. "You really don't care if she is having sex with some other guy?"

"You know they're having sex? I wasn't sure," I said. "I just know she spends time with him on Tuesday night, her book group night, which she hasn't gone to in over a month. No, I really don't care. This would not be her first," I said, shocking him even more. "I can't keep up with her in bed. She needs a lot, and I just can't keep up. Look, I love her, unconditionally. She doesn't have to prove she is faithful for me to keep loving her. Really. If she wants to leave, that's her choice, but if she wants to be my wife and still fuck somebody else, then that is also her choice."

When we stood at his car, I thanked Paul for thinking of me and trying to do the right thing. He was still in shock that I would not care if my wife was having an affair. "I don't expect you to understand, and I appreciate you were trying to help. Thank you," I said. He got into his car, still shaking his head, and drove off. I was convinced he was traumatized by my not caring if Claire was having an affair.

When I got home I kissed Claire, and she asked me what Paul's news was. No way I was going to tell her he wanted to tell me she was having an affair. "Oh, he had news about his company," I said, thinking as fast as I could. "They are talking layoffs," I said staying close to what I knew was true. "He is afraid he might be on the chopping block," I said, satisfied I had dodged the bullet.

It was Tuesday, the night of her book group. I knew she would be with him. I knew his name was Jason, and I knew his wife was a teacher. Her name is Pam. I also knew it was her PTA night, so they would both be away from home. After Claire left home, I kept thinking about Paul telling me Claire was having an affair and the look on his face when I said I didn't care. I figured if Paul found his wife, Amanda, was having an affair he would demand she leave.

What if I were having an affair? Would it be more important than my marriage? I would hope not. I could possibly have one of my own, but would it be a diversion that would not eliminate all we had accomplished together. I know this is not the attitude of the average male in America, although Europe is something different, but it is the way I actually feel.

I do think love should be unconditional, so what would it take for it to not deserve to be saved? Anything? Well, I can think of nothing that would make it unredeemable. If the couple loves one another, then it deserves working on, but if love is not there then, yes, it is beyond help.

I do see my marriage as being worthy of effort and compromises. It is worth saving. I don't see sex as a good reason to end a marriage. Then one day in May I was looking for a wash cloth to use in the kitchen and I went into the bathroom where Claire was taking a bath. I apologized for intruding and I saw that she was crying.

I knelt beside the tub and asked what was the problem. She began crying harder and I put my hand on her shoulder. "I am so sorry," she said through tears. "I have been an awful wife," she sobbed. "I am so very sorry."

I kissed her shoulder and said there was nothing we couldn't get through. "I have been having an affair," she confessed tearfully. Should I just let her confess? I decided not to go that way.

"I know," I said. She looked up at me, tears in her eyes, a stunned expression on her face. "It is not that big a deal," I said. "Did you injure someone? No. Did you embezzle money? No. What you did is your business, no one else's. You need not cry, because I can tolerate whatever you think you did. I love you, no matter what," I said. "Unconditionally."

She leaned her head on my shoulder as she sat in the tub. "I love you too," she said tearfully. "I didn't mean to hurt you," she said.

"I understand that," I said. "It is okay. Everything will be okay. You don't owe me an apology. Just love me and that is all I ask." She took ahold of my arm as she sat in the tub.

"You don't hate me?" she asked as she dried her eyes with a wet hand. I told her not only did I not hate her, I didn't think I could live without her.

"I think we should go see him. Let him know I don't hold a grudge," I said. "Make sure he understands that we are handling this together. Whatever it takes. That he hasn't broken up a marriage."

She got out of the tub, dried her naked body with a towel, then put her arms around me and squeezed, putting her head on my chest. "I just got caught up in having someone else care for me," she said. "It became like a drug."

"Of course," I said. I could feel the pain she felt for being unfaithful and weak and doing what she was ashamed of. It hurt me to understand her suffering. That was the worst part. She hurt and I felt it with her. "Let's meet with him and talk about it," I said. Still feeling shameful, she nodded.

"Okay," she said faintly.

"I don't own you," I said. "Our marriage license was not a deed of ownership. I didn't buy the right to control you when we got married. We agreed to love one another, honor that commitment, and support each other for as long as we live. You can do that without being subservient. You are your own person."

She looked up at me and nodded. She seemed to understand what I was saying, to see the importance of my unconditional love and commitment, without being totally passive, without giving up all personal choice, even sexually.

A funny thing happened on the way to meeting my wife's boyfriend. I began to feel her excitement. I began to understand the thrill she got from having someone sexually interested in her. Amazingly, I began to get aroused by thoughts of her being with him. It was a liberating experience, and I began to celebrate her sexual excitement, to look forward to talking to him and reaching an understanding.

Could I share her? I believed so, if that is what she needed. On the way to us meeting with my wife's lover, I asked her to tell me about their first time together. "Really?" she asked.

"It would help me experience it with you," I said.

Finally, she said, "It was in the book room at school. I had left my panties off, because we had agreed to meet there after school."

"That sounds very exciting," I said, actually meaning every word.

"It was, very," she replied. "We started kissing and he put his hands under my dress and took ahold of my naked bottom. Once he touched me, I knew he would soon be inside me. Pretty soon, I turned around and lifted up my dress and let him enter me from behind, standing in the book room with him behind me."

"You must have been really crazy with desire," I said.

"I was," she said. "About out of my head."

"I am sure," I said. "It sounds incredible. Go on."

"I asked him to wear a condom, and he did. We flushed it down the toilet afterwards," she said. "I could feel him in me for the rest of the day. It was wonderful," she said with a sigh.

"Of course it was," I said, honestly feeling her arousal. "You started having it every day?" I asked.

"Just about," she said.

"That must have been hard not to do it everyday," I said.

"It was," she replied breathlessly.

"Then you started meeting on your book group night?" She seemed surprised I knew. "Carol told me you weren't coming," I said.

"We started renting a motel room," she said.

"That's good," I said. "More private and less stressful I would imagine than the book room at school." She nodded, smiling at my enthusiasm and compassion. I put my hand on her knee. "If you are going to enjoy something, you need to eliminate as much stress as possible," I said, totally meaning what I said.

"I think the people at the motel understood what we were doing," she said with a smile. "They reserved one room for us each Tuesday night. They were really nice."

"Does he satisfy you like you need?" I asked her.

Shyly, she said he was a very good lover. "You wouldn't want an affair with a bad lover," I said, patting her knee. "If you're going have sex, it should be good sex. Great sex, actually," I corrected.

When we got to the restaurant we'd agreed on, we asked for a table in the back. Jason, however, was already there and he had gotten a table in the rear. He sat alone and motioned for us to join him.

He was young, a few years younger than me, and had broad shoulders and a pleasant smile, with wavy blond hair. If your wife is going to have an affair, you don't want him to be an unpleasant looking fellow, I thought. He stood and put out his hand. We shook hands and I thought about how unusual it was for the husband and the boyfriend to meet in a restaurant to discuss the wife's affair.

He seemed perfectly comfortable with the idea of us meeting and was pleasant and seemed relaxed. "Thanks for meeting me," he said as if the meeting was his idea or at least the most natural thing in the world. I liked him right off. If she was going to have an affair, I was glad it was with someone like him.

We sat across the table from him, but I motioned with my head and she reached across the table and took his hand.

"First, let me say, it is nice to meet you. If someone is going to be intimate with my wife, I want it to be someone who is respectful and cares for her," I said.

"I do care for Claire," he said. "She is a special person, and I care very much." I was struck that he didn't say he loved her. I hoped he loved his wife. You can love more than one person at a time, but too often people throw around the word "love" far too casually. I was pleased he didn't try to convince me he loved her with all his heart.

"I want you to know I don't think I own Claire and that being sexually faithful is not the most important thing in the world," I said. "Truly, I am glad you have been making her life better, giving her something she needs. It may not be typical, but I do think it is important that she is sexually

satisfied and not just by me. Thank you for making her happy."

He did not look terribly shocked by what I said. He smiled and nodded in agreement. "I am not here to demand you stop seeing Claire," I said. "If the two of you continue, it will be up to her, not me. If she wants that, I am fine with it. In fact, I will do whatever I can to make things go well for you both. I will not put her on the spot, but she will let you know herself if she wants to continue the relationship."

Again, he nodded and smiled, looking at Claire. By the look on her face, I knew she wanted it to continue. "Thanks again for meeting me," I said. "I am going to leave her here with you so you can talk, or whatever. You can bring her home when the two of you have finished," I said.

"Talk it over, make love, whatever the two of you decide," I said. I got up, kissed her, and told her to come home when she was ready. She took my hand and squeezed it.

As I drove away I looked into the mirror and smiled at myself. I thought of what might be happening back at the restaurant. I was pretty sure she would return later that night.

I imagined them kissing and pictured him removing her clothes. Perhaps surprisingly, it was arousing to think of. I imagine them in the book room back on their first day together, her bent over holding up her dress with him standing behind her fucking from the rear. It was a marvelously sexy image to think of. It turned me on just to visualize it. As I passed the motel where they had stayed every Tuesday night, I smiled to myself. If they stopped there that day, I truly hoped things went well for them. I simply felt no jealousy.

That was six months ago and she does see him every Tuesday night at the motel where they have become special customers. They also often get together on weekends, a couple of times even at our home.

Remarkably, Jason's wife Pam has learned of their affair and has become good friends with Claire. She favors an open marriage, which I believe he knew about from the beginning and has an intimate friend of her own. I am so glad I didn't go crazy when Paul told me about my wife having an affair. I have no interest in finding a sexual partner of my own, but I do know it is a possibility if that is what I decide.

I did not lose my wife when she took a lover over a year ago. I love her dearly, unconditionally, and will be with her as long as she wants to be with me. My wife is having an affair, and I seriously don't care.