Prologue

Now

I understand how adultery happens. I know, your first thought is “Of course you understand — you’re a cheater.” That’s true, but that’s certainly not the whole story.

That’s always what a cheater says, right? Once again, you are correct. If you’re looking for a typical romance, then run — run far.

After ten years of marriage my husband barely touches me anymore. There has been the obligatory monthly sex, but even that starts to fizzle. I’m twenty-nine and he’s thirty-two. We should be doing it like bunnies, night and day, or at least a couple times a week, to be more realistic. But that hasn’t happened in years.

It doesn’t hit me until I’m away for a couple of weeks. I came home that night, and we both fell asleep, me snuggling up against his back like we always sleep. But that’s all we do. We just . . . sleep.

No big deal, you say?

Wrong. It’s a very big deal.

It’s the night I realize we have a real problem.

Still, I push it from my mind. We’re okay. I had a long trip. He’s been busy at home. It’s all going to be okay. But the next night we don’t have sex, or the night after that. Neither of us even try.

Finally, a few days later, he comes into the bedroom and begins rubbing my back while I lie naked on top of the covers.

Mmm, here it is. See. We’re fine, I tell myself. It’s all going to be perfect. He’s rubbing my back, and I feel that old familiar ache begin in my stomach, just a stirring, not the fireworks that used to erupt when we were first together, but that’s okay. It’s slow and steady, and I can still have a great orgasm. I can still be close to the man I love.

His hands travel down my back, getting lower with each pass. He rubs the curve of my butt, and now I feel moisture in my core. I feel my insides swell and better yet, tingles heat me.

He stretches over me, and I feel his erection pressing against the crack of my ass. This is good. It feels good — not great — but good.

Ah, finally he pushes inside me while his hands grip my hips. My husband doesn’t normally last very long, and since we haven’t had sex in a long while, I figure a few strokes and he’s going to explode. That’s okay because he’s a master at oral sex. He never leaves me hanging.

Unlike a lot of men, he makes sure I’m satisfied even after he’s done. I want him penetrating me. I want to feel his hardness stroking the walls of my core, hitting deep inside of me. We’re a perfect fit — or so I’ve always thought.

When a minute goes by and he’s still moving at a steady pace, I’m impressed, yet a little confused. It’s been a solid month since we’ve had sex, and he should be exploding with the first stroke. I stop thinking about that — why bitch about a good thing?

When five minutes go by and he’s still going strong, I begin to worry. Even in the best of times after we’ve had sex for a few days in a row, he doesn’t last a full five minutes. I’ve been with the man for ten years. I know what kind of lover he is.

He pushes me flat against the bed and grips my hips, pushing me together, making the area tighter. I hate when he does this as it makes me feel like he can’t get off anymore without help. Several more minutes go by and he finally shakes, lets out a groan of pleasure, and collapses against my back.

I worry so much about why it’s taking him so long that I’ve lost all those tingly sensations, and I’m in no mood to come. He offers, but I tell him I’m not feeling well. He’s kind and understanding, and he lies down so I can snuggle up against him and go to sleep.

I’m restless all night and wake up several times. Around two in the morning, I awake and my husband isn’t in bed. I get up to use the bathroom and find him masturbating.

Now there’s no way for me to deny there’s a real problem. I use the bathroom, and that’s when I figure out he didn’t even come. He faked it. We all hear of women faking, but my husband is better than I’ve ever been. There’s no evidence of his orgasm on me. Even if most had come back out, there’s always some left. I know he didn’t come. I know we’re in real trouble.

So again, I tell you, I understand why people cheat. Do you still think I’m a horrible person? That’s okay, there are many more people out there like me. We’re all very good at hiding our dark secrets behind closed doors. We’re all very good at only showing the best of ourselves and the best of our lives.

We’re all very good at lying.

But I’ll tell you the true story. I’ll show you how far a person can fall. But within that fall, what we may figure out is that only then can we soar. I was ready to fly. I just had to let go of my guilt in order to do that.