I’d had plenty of opportunities to stray. Both in college and with the triathlon club, I interacted with a lot of attractive, available women and other than the occasional spank bank fantasy, never went a step in that direction. We’d had some challenges, a miscarriage shortly after we hit the five year mark, but didn’t let that get in between us. I loved my wife as much as ever, even during her distress.
Note that I never really considered the dalliance with my neighbor to be an ‘affair’. Hell, we never even kissed! It was just a few erections (well, and a couple of orgasms) and that was that. Funny what we can talk ourselves into when we want to.
However, years later, after the successful birth of our child, my wife started shutting down emotionally. “I have more important things to worry about.” that sort of thing. She literally said that to my face several times, along with “It’s not important to me to look nice for you.” She went from a drawer full of nice Victoria Secret’s things to three for a dollar Wal-Mart granny panties, for example. Yet she would spend an hour in the bathroom fussing about her hair before she went to a book club meeting or sewing circle, because heaven forbid another frumpy, flabby room mother would see her with a hair out of place.