Olivia sat in front of her therapist as she dabbed the tears in her eyes which had been ever present recently. She was about to make a terrible confession. Her confession was more to herself than anybody else. It would be a confession of who she had become.

“Olivia,” smiled the therapist kindly, “what can I help you with? Why have you come to see me?”

Olivia looked up, to try and hold back her tears, and took a deep breath, to compose herself.

“Last weekend I went out for dinner with a man with the full intention of being unfaithful to my husband, David.”

“I see,” the therapist replied thoughtfully. “What do you think made you unfaithful to your husband?”

“I wasn’t unfaithful to him, at least not physically. I couldn’t go through with it.”

The therapist’s brow furrowed with interest, “Perhaps you should start from the beginning.”

“I suppose it started when our children moved out. Suddenly, after all these years, David and I were alone. We are still a long way off retiring. Life just appeared dull with nothing to look forward to with David. I felt old. I suppose I just craved excitement. That was when Xavier stepped in. He is a senior sales director at work. He is good-looking, tanned, charming, well dressed and successful. Xavier noticed I was looking down and came to talk to me. He knew exactly what to say. He paid me compliments and told me I was still beautiful, that any man would want to be with me if David didn’t appreciate me. It felt good to hear. Xavier began to take me out for drinks after work. Drinks became dinner. He has this amazing ability to make you feel like you are the most important person in the room when he talks to you. It wasn’t long before I was under his spell.

“God! It sounds like a bad cheating wife story. I suppose it is and I’m the main character. My life is a mess because of it. I couldn’t believe someone like Xavier would be interested in me. I’m an over-the-hill middle-aged woman. He could have anyone. David all of a sudden wasn’t good enough. Xavier and I exchanged phone numbers. We messaged each other after work and at night. I messaged him while David slept next to me at night. I was being told how attractive day and night.

“One day after work, Xavier told me he had fallen in love with me.”

“How did that make you feel?” asked the therapist.

“Happy and sad. I was so happy to hear he was in love with me, but sad because I wasn’t ready to leave David. I told him if he was in love with me, we couldn’t see each other anymore. Xavier pleaded to let me keep seeing him. He looked so unhappy. He then asked for one night with me. One night for him to make love to me, to persuade me that he was the man for me. I felt powerless to say no.”

“How did David take the news?”

“Not well, as you can imagine, but I felt like I had to do it. I wanted to do it. I told David all the usual rubbish. I still loved him. It was just one night, and it meant nothing. It was only sex. I was disappointed that he didn’t try to stop me. Instead, he said he would leave it for me to do the right thing. However, he also said that if I did go through with it, our marriage would be tainted, and he wasn’t sure if he could live with that. The day of my night with Xavier then arrived….”

*

David stood at the bathroom door watching me put my make-up on. I was still in my bathrobe but underneath I was wearing the lingerie and stockings I bought for my night with Xavier. I felt so sexy.

“You’re still going ahead with it? My feelings about it don’t matter to you?” he asked. There was an anger in his voice.

“David, I told you,” I replied irritably, “it is only one night. It is just dinner and one night. I still love you and I will still want you to be my husband afterwards. This is just an itch to scratch. I need to do this. There is no need to make it difficult.”

“Who for? You? Because it is already difficult for me. What if you still have that itch afterwards?”

“It is one night, David!” I snapped as I pushed past him with my hair and make-up done. “Nothing more!”

I put on the short, tight dark blue dress I bought, like my lingerie, for my night with Xavier. I felt more than ten years younger.

I heard the car horn of my taxi outside and I kissed David on the cheek and told him,

“I’ve made your favourite Spaghetti Carbonara. You only need to heat it. I’ll be back before lunch tomorrow and we can get back to normal like it never happened.” It was delusional. I can see that now.

I arrived at the Dalton Hotel and met Xavier in the hotel bar. He had already bought me my favourite vodka martini. He remembered that I had told him it was my favourite. It made me feel so special that he remembered like he listened to every word I said.

The Dalton is a 5* luxurious hotel. The bar is modern and plush, perfect for a date and to impress a woman who wants excitement. It was perfect for two lovers to meet.

Xavier greeted me with a kiss on my lips. His kiss felt strange. After he told me he loved me, I expected more, but something was missing from his kiss that I couldn’t work out. At the time I just put it down to the fact I hadn’t kissed anyone but David for over twenty-five years.

The conversation was intense. I flirted with him shamelessly. We kissed like teenagers. It was everything I wanted. It felt exciting and naughty. All I could think of was the sex after dinner.

When we sat down for dinner, it was then that I realised what a terrible mistake I made.

I looked around the restaurant and the idea that it would be a wonderful place for David and I to go for our anniversary slipped into my mind. Then I started to feel guilty.

I looked at Xavier and like an epiphany I saw him for what he was. I saw myself for what I was. I had fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book. The restaurant and hotel were expensive. The lingerie and dress I was wearing for Xavier were far more than I realistically could afford. But the woman wearing them was cheap. I realised that although he was spending a lot of money on me, I was nothing more than a piece of cheap ass to him. I was going to degrade myself for someone who wasn’t worth sacrificing my marriage for. It then finally occurred to me what I was doing to David. What I was doing to myself.

I hardly said a word for the rest of the meal. I stopped listening to what Xavier was saying. His words and compliments were meaningless. They were all lies to get me into bed.

After dinner, Xavier tried to escort me to the lift and up to his room, but I turned to him and said, “I’m sorry Xavier. I shouldn’t have come I need to go home,” and I went to leave.

It was then I saw Xavier’s true colours. He became angry. He grabbed my arm and began to pull me towards the lift. You should have heard the names he called me. They were horrible. No one had ever called me them. What hurt most was that I deserved them.

I tried to pull away, but he was too strong. I pleaded with him to let me go. I told him I needed to go home to David, but he told me I owed him. He told me how much he paid for me. He used those words, ‘I paid for you’. Like he had bought me. Like I was a whore. He told me my worth. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t much. I wasn’t worth much to Xavier but to David, I was worth so much more. I cheapened myself for a night of excitement!

We must have caused a scene because the hotel staff approached us. It was only then Xavier let go. I apologised to the hotel staff, then I ran out of the hotel. I took a taxi, and I went home.

I found David on the sofa watching something on television wearing his pyjamas. I can’t remember what. He was surprised to see me back home as you can imagine. He looked upset. He looked humiliated. I did that to him!

I just threw myself at his feet.

“Olivia!” he exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, David. I am so sorry,” I was crying so hard. I wasn’t making much sense to David “I love you. I thought of you, I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Olivia, I don’t understand. You didn’t cheat on me?”

I shook my head. I didn’t know what else to do. I pushed his legs apart and tried to pull down his pyjama trousers.

“Stop, Olivia,” he told me. “We need to talk.”

 ‘Stop’ he told me. He could see what I was trying to do for him, but he told me to stop. That hurt so much. He hurt me, but it was nothing to the hurt I caused him.

“Please!” I begged. I actually begged to do that for him! He didn’t beg me, I begged him! “Let me do this for you. I need to prove that I love you,” I released him from his pyjamas.

I felt happiness when I felt him harden in my mouth. I felt happiness when he moaned as I gave him all the pleasure I could. I felt happiness as I tasted him when he came. I drank every last drop. I felt happiness when I saw that he had enjoyed what had done for him.

“Thank you,” I told him. I thanked him. He should have thanked me. Instead, I thanked him for letting me kneel at his feet and pleasure him while taking none for myself. I felt shame and humiliation. I never knew I could lower myself so much.

I kissed David gratefully. It was then I felt why kissing Xavier felt strange. There was no love when Xavier kissed me, but there was with David. Despite it all, he still loved me!

I went upstairs to change. I saw myself in the mirror and what I saw disgusted me. I saw the slut and cheap whore who was going to betray her husband. I took off my dress and lingerie and threw them on the floor in the corner. I couldn’t bear to look at them.

I changed into my pyjamas and returned to David. I curled up on the sofa next to him. I held onto his arm in fear of him leaving me. I fell in love with him again.

“I love you,” I muttered.

He didn’t tell me he loved me. He just said, “Do you want to watch something different.”

I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to watch anything. I just wanted to be with David.

I must have fallen asleep because the following morning I was in bed. David wasn’t next to me.

I saw the dress and lingerie on the floor. I decided that I didn’t want them. I couldn’t wear them again. I wore them for Xavier, not David. They were a reminder of what I nearly did.

I knew I had to throw the lingerie away, but I could return the dress. I picked it up and opened the wardrobe. It was empty. None of my clothes were there. I check my drawers. They were empty too. My underwear and tops were gone. I didn’t understand. I hung the dress in the wardrobe and went downstairs.

I found David in the kitchen drinking coffee.

“David, where are my clothes?” I asked. I felt confused.

“When you left last night, I put them in the spare room,” he told me coldly. I felt even more confused.

I don’t why, but I checked the bin. I saw the Spaghetti Carbonara I cooked for him. He hadn’t eaten it.

It was then it all hit me. David showed me his colours. He showed me who he was. A man who I had stopped seeing. A man of strong moral character. A man of integrity. A man any woman would be proud to call her their husband. A man who didn’t want to be with a wife who was prepared to share herself with another man, so he prepared to end our marriage while I was with Xavier.

I was none of the things he was. I wasn’t worthy of him. I was prepared to throw a man like him away for something cheap and cheapened myself. I then felt my legs give way.

David caught me and helped me to a chair. I sat down and cried.

He made me some breakfast and said to me,

“When you are ready, we can talk.”

There was hurt in his voice but also a strong determination like he knew what he wanted to say and do.

After I finished breakfast and got dressed, I picked up the lingerie off the floor and threw it away. I just stood there staring at it lying in the bin. I felt a strong urge to join it. I felt like trash.

I found David still in the kitchen and I sat down with him.

We sat in silence. Neither of us wanted to be the first to speak. I couldn’t look him in the eye. In contrast, I felt his eyes boring into me. His stare never left me.

“Do you want to start?” he asked. There was a harsh tone to his voice.

“I love you,” I said weakly.

“Love me?” he laughed in disbelief. “People who love someone don’t go to a hotel to sleep with someone else.”

“I didn’t sleep with him. I couldn’t do it. Coming home proves that I love you. I didn’t cheat on you,” I told him desperately.

“Did you kiss him?”

I shamefully nodded.

“Did you enjoy it?”

I shook my head.

My response surprised him, “Why not?” he asked, with a confused expression.

“It felt strange. It wasn’t until I kissed you that I realised. It was because he didn’t love me like you do. I know you love me. I could feel it,” I said with hope.

His hard expression broke before he said something that devastated me,

“But love isn’t enough. You still betrayed me.”

“I don’t understand,” I told him. And that was the problem. I thought if you loved somebody then you could do anything. “I didn’t betray you. I didn’t sleep with him.”

David looked at me. He looked at me in a way I can only describe as pity. He pitied me because I didn’t understand. I still couldn’t fully understand what I did wrong.

“Notwithstanding that you kissed him, you did betray me. You betrayed me with your intentions. You intended to sleep with him. You planned to sleep with him. You bragged to me that you were going to sleep with him. You left our home to go to sleep with another man leaving me home feeling humiliated. Whatever reason you had for not going through with it, you still intended to have sex with another man. It is that betrayal that I am finding hard to take and forgive. All it took was flattery and you accepted his invitation. How do I know it won’t happen again? How can I trust that you won’t intend to sleep with a different man or the same man in the future and go through with it? Why should I have my feelings disregarded so dismissively as you did? Your intentions have broken the trust between us. I don’t know if I can be with someone I can’t trust.”

I just stared at David as his words slowly dissolved the clouds of my remaining delusions and the brightness of reality came into focus.

“I want to stay married to you,” was all I could say.

“But why would I want to stay married to you?” he replied.

I had no answer.

“What can I do to persuade you?” I pleaded.

“What are you prepared to do?” he deflected pointedly back at me. I then broke down as I realised I was expecting him to do the work to fix what I did.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“What for?” he asked.

I sat there and thought of all my past mistakes until I replied, “I’m sorry, for taking you for granted. I’m sorry for taking for granted all the work you put into our marriage, while I offered nothing. I’m sorry for everything.”

David grunted, then replied, “Those are just words. What are you going to do to prove what you say is true?”

Tears began to flow as it dawned on me how much trouble I was in. How much I loved David. How stupid and weak I had been. I now feared for my marriage

“I will see a therapist and fix myself. I am sorry, David. I am and I do love you. I understand if you find that hard to believe but it is true. I chased a fantasy. I am starting to realise how weak I’ve been. I took you for granted. I thought you were the lucky one in our marriage, but I now know it is me. God! What have I done?” Regret flowed through me. “Please let me fix myself. Please don’t leave me!” I was begging now.

“You don’t need me to fix yourself,” he countered. He was right. I had very little to give him. I was terrified. I needed him more than he needed me. That is a horrible thing to know. To know you have less worth than your partner.

“I will give up my job, I’ll tell everyone what I have done. I tell our children,” I stood up and found my phone in my handbag. It was still on silent so my evening wouldn’t be disturbed. It was full of messages and missed calls from Xavier.

When David took my phone off me and read the disgusting messages Xavier sent me when he saw me getting distraught, “You really picked a winner, didn’t you!” he snorted disdainfully. He began to delete the messages and blocked Xavier’s number before handing back my phone.

“Thank you,” I said with a weak smile. Even after my betrayal, David was protecting me. I then called my daughter. I sobbed down the phone as I confessed. My daughter was furious with me. I deserved everything she said to me. David took the phone off me again and spoke to her to calm her down. I then called our son; I could feel his disappointment in me.

I felt ashamed, lost and small.

“Help me,” I pleaded to David. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

I reached out to him. To my relief, he took me into his arms and just held me.

“Please don’t leave me,” I begged again. “I want to be your wife. I promise you I won’t do this again.” I sounded pathetic.

*

“So, this is where I am,” Olivia continued remorsefully to her therapist. “I am a middle-aged woman with very little to offer the world. My marriage is hanging by a thread. My children are angry with me. I am terrified of losing the man I love. I am terrified of starting again. I have no idea who I am, and I am in this situation because of what I intended to do, not for what I did.”

The therapist looked upon Olivia with sympathy.

“Why don’t we start and try to figure all this out and find out who you are so we can save your marriage,” she told her gently.

Olivia just nodded with a desperate smile.