She felt neglected and stumbled across someone else. Someone who noticed her. Brushed her hair out of her face and wiped her tears. She eventually came back and wanted to make it work. He tried to forgive her, but couldn’t. And then he found someone else and another someone else.
He met girls at work. They were fun and they liked him. They never asked for more from him. They didn’t need anything from him. They didn’t need his money or his help with the house or the car or the kids. They each only lasted a night. Or a couple hours. She found out and was done with him. She was worth more than that. And so were their kids.
She was enamored. They had something in common. Not like her husband, who had his own life and his own interests. She never meant for it to go beyond that. But she couldn’t help herself. He was busy. Always busy.
He just lost interest. His magazines and his computer vied for his attention. The images made him sweat and made his mouth water. The other girls he was with were just supplemental. She tried. But she couldn’t be exciting enough for him anymore.
Kids were all she thought about. Sex wasn’t sex anymore. It was about ovulation. Certain hours of certain days. No more spontaneity, no more fun, not even love. It was methodical. He wanted to have kids. But she was consumed. He changed his focus to his work and was caught off guard by someone else who looked up to him and made him feel alive again. Made him feel like a man again.
Till death parts us.
Sometimes.
Two of the couples are still trying. For now.