3 Signs Your Older Man Isn’t Over His Ex: Part 2

When Der­rick first told me about his plan to spend the day apart while on our get­away, I was a bit hurt and thought that I would hate being alone. But once I was in the moment, it actu­ally felt amaz­ing. I needed some “me time”—ever since I started dat­ing Der­rick, my life had prac­ti­cally revolved around him. I had even taken a semes­ter off from school to enjoy my new lifestyle. Although he pam­pered me and always treated me well, I felt like I needed space, espe­cially now. The new drama with his wife had given me a tremen­dous amount of stress. I fig­ured a trip to the spa would do me well.

A cou­ple hours later, I left the spa feel­ing vibrant and care­free. When I got to the hotel room, I real­ized that I had no idea when Der­rick would be back—was I eat­ing din­ner alone or would he be back in time? I called his cell phone, but he didn’t answer. I really didn’t feel like wait­ing, so I called the golf course he was at, hop­ing that I’d be able to just ask him about dinner.

The concierge at the golf course answered the phone, and when I asked for Der­rick, the man on the other end said, “Mrs. Fried­man? I am so sorry, ma’am. I thought I already put you through to him. He said he would be out front wait­ing for you. Let me see what’s going on.”

My heart sank, and I instantly dropped the phone. I stood there like a statue, cold and life­less for what seemed like hours. I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t feel my heart beat­ing. When the color finally returned to my face, I got in his Maserati and headed back toward the golf course. I wasn’t really sure what I would do when I got there, but I knew I could not stay in the room and wait for him. At one point, I even con­tem­plated crash­ing his pre­cious Maserati into a pole. Luck­ily, com­mon sense hit me and I real­ized I would just end up get­ting really hurt. So I kept dri­ving, my heart jump­ing out of my skin at every turn. When I finally arrived at the golf course, I parked the car up front and prac­ti­cally ran inside.

I was so ner­vous that my limbs felt numb. I roamed the area look­ing for my older man and his wife. And then I saw them off in the dis­tance out on the course. She was dressed in an adorable golf­ing out­fit, and was prepar­ing to take a swing at the ball. She missed and they both laughed, which only reminded me of when I shared a laugh with Der­rick ear­lier that same day. They looked gen­uinely happy. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him pas­sion­ately. I turned my atten­tion to him—he looked so pleased to be there with her.

Like a wave of water, it hit me: I was his mis­tress. Who was I to inter­rupt a mar­ried couple’s out­ing? I didn’t know what to feel any­more. But I did know one thing: he wasn’t my man, he was hers.