Why I Mentally Checked Out of My Marriage to Check into a Hotel with a Rich, Older Man

Why I Mentally Checked Out of My Marriage to Check into a Hotel with a Rich, Older ManMy affair with Der­rick started as a spark and turned into a wild­fire. After being men­tally abused and phys­i­cally pushed to my lim­its, I never imag­ined what would happen—I men­tally checked out of my mar­riage and began a five month affair with Der­rick. My hus­band was work­ing many more hours, as he was work­ing on expand­ing his busi­ness, and Derrick’s wife, Mrs. Fried­man, was once again start­ing to neglect her hus­band. She became more social and went out with friends var­i­ous times a week. This was great news for Der­rick and I, since I spent most of my time with him when his wife was away. If my hus­band was home, I would tell him that I was going out with my friends, and when he was out at work, he needed no explanation.

Being with Der­rick was, at first, for com­fort. He sup­ported me in times of need and was there for me when my hus­band packed my bags and kicked me out of the house. For months, we kept our rela­tion­ship pla­tonic, but as soon as my hus­band dis­owned me, I could no longer con­tain my feel­ings for Der­rick. After our ini­tial night of pas­sion, I could no longer have enough of him. We would meet up weekly at a local hotel. I was uneasy going to his house—after all, there were pic­tures of him and his wife plas­tered every­where. I needed to feel less lousy and knew that a hotel would be the per­fect spot. It was won­der­ful being with Der­rick again.

The first time at our hotel, I had told him how uneasy I felt about always meet­ing like this at the hotel. I felt dirty and cheap. It was a five-star hotel and we always stayed in a lux­u­ri­ous suite, but the action itself of us being unfaith­ful to our spouses was enough to taint it all. I remem­ber the first time I walked up to the hotel door. I had sat in the park­ing lot for an hour. Der­rick was wor­ried some­thing had hap­pened to me because I was not answer­ing his phone calls. I sim­ply could not swal­low what I was doing. I was offi­cially going to have an affair. The thought of such dis­re­spect­ful actions left a bit­ter taste in my mouth. I could not muster up the courage to walk into the hotel.

When I finally did get out of my car and enter the hotel, I stood in front of the door of the room with weak knees. I wanted to run back home to my hus­band, but the desire in me was too strong.  But when Der­rick opened the door, I imme­di­ately knew that I was in the right place, with the right man, no mat­ter what my stom­ach said.

Yel­low rose petals, which hap­pen to be my favorite color for roses, were laid down on the ground. The path led past the bed­room and into the bal­cony, where Der­rick had set up a bot­tle of wine, long-stem yel­low roses, can­dles, and a gift. My heart flut­tered as I opened the gift. It was a beau­ti­ful black dia­mond ring with match­ing ear­rings. Der­rick explained that it was a promise ring—this was his way of promis­ing to be there no mat­ter what. We were both enter­ing into an affair that had the poten­tial to destroy both of our lives.