I was 40 and desperately unhappy when I started my extra-marital affair. Three kids, a wedding when we were too young to get married β I already felt like one of those old couples you see in gardening centres, or out for dinner on birthdays, the ones where the conversation has already dried up.
It hurt to see them because I remembered when my husband and I started dating and we used to joke about those silent couples. It was after having kids that things started to unravel for us. It was me that was the problem.
I loved being a mum, I lived for all the drawings and special assemblies and sports days and concerts in the local church β but I was also bored. I was bored and frustrated and started finding myself looking at the few dads that did the pick-ups at the end of the day at school and fantasising about them, just to give me some excitement to keep me going.
I had to keep it separate. But how? It had been involved in a massive data breach. The kindest solution. Plus, and I know this might sound strange, but I loved Rob. I wanted more. And I wanted to give myself something back β I figured I deserved it. He had it easy. And I admit I resented him for it. Really, I was just jealous. Dads often end up with fewer custody rights, he reminded me, and he loved his sons. On my first date with Dan, I was as nervous as the way I used to feel when I was single and in my early twenties.
I had butterflies all day and arranged for a babysitter to come to be with the kids way earlier than I needed her to, so I could get ready. The problem was that Dan and I hit it off β too well. We talked about our actual, individual interests TV, literature, films. It was perfect. To keep up to speed with all the latest opinions and comment sign up to our free weekly Voices Dispatches newsletter by clicking here. At the end of that first night we kissed, and it was just weeks before he booked a hotel room.
