Why My Wealthy, Older Boyfriend Is Absolutely Irresistible: Part 1

It had been such a busy week that I felt like I was going to end up for­get­ting some­thing that I needed to do. As I packed my daugh­ters’ lunches, I ran through my to-do list in my head: my kids’ school func­tion com­ing up, laun­dry to fold, and gro­cery shop­ping. Noth­ing was help­ing to dis­tract me from this upcom­ing Chicago trip with my boss, Mr. Brown, who had also become my older, mar­ried lover.

As I let my mind wan­der to him, I heard a beep from some­where in the kitchen. I imme­di­ately assumed it was the oven, so I opened it in hopes that din­ner was ready. My hus­band was becom­ing increas­ingly irri­tated with his job, and he usu­ally brought his bit­ter atti­tude home with him. I was hop­ing that maybe hav­ing din­ner ready when he got home would at least make things less uncom­fort­able. But the beep hadn’t come from the oven—I real­ized it was from my phone. I decided it would be best to fin­ish up the roast and pota­toes before check­ing my cell. My old­est daugh­ter was set­ting the table when I snuck off to read my text mes­sage. It was Mr. Brown, of course, want­ing to know if I was pre­pared for the Gala we were attend­ing. I responded with a row of smi­ley faces.

He had been gen­er­ous in giv­ing me a few days off this week so that I could spend time at home before the trip. I cooked, cleaned, and per­formed other domes­tic duties around the house, and I enjoyed spend­ing the extra time with my kids. Mr. Brown really val­ued fam­ily, and he always reminded me to put my chil­dren first. I knew he would have made a great father and think­ing about this brought another smile to my face.

That evening, I took a chance and sat down to try and enjoy a meal with my hus­band, and as I looked at his face, worn with exhaus­tion, I felt a twinge of guilt. I was going to be spend­ing the week­end in Chicago, where I would be wined and romanced. I would be sur­rounded by beau­ti­ful peo­ple in designer clothes and drink­ing fancy cham­pagne, while my hus­band would be spend­ing the week­end at home with the kids. It sel­dom hap­pened that I was away and he was home, so I knew how much the girls would enjoy it, which helped to make me feel a lit­tle less guilty.

Later that night, I tucked the kids into bed and gave them each a kiss. Even if my hus­band didn’t show me the love and affec­tion that I wanted, he always showed it to our daugh­ters. I knew no mat­ter what hap­pened in our mar­riage, he would always be there to take care of them and me finan­cially. This brought my thoughts back to Mr. Brown: where would this May-December rela­tion­ship with him go? I started to pack my suit­case, and as I folded my shirts and slacks, I won­dered about Mrs. Brown: did he feel guilty about her?

After a ter­ri­ble night’s sleep, I got up and gath­ered my stuff for the trip. I made the kids break­fast, got big hugs from each of them, and put the old­est on the school bus. When I was finally free to go, I tried to rush for the door, but before I could get out, my hus­band grabbed my wrist…