The Adulterer's Handbook

by Sam Anthony

  “Leave her!” Sophia blurts out.

  “What?”

  “Leave Tamsin.”

  “Why?”

  “If you leave her and I leave Joe, we could be together, like we talked about.”

  “I don’t remember talking about any such thing,” I say.

  “Imagine what it’d be like. We’d be together all the time. We could spend every evening curled up in front of the telly. We could go out in public together, to restaurants and the cinema. We could have sex whenever we wanted. Every day of the week.”

  “There’s more to life than sex, Soph.” Did I really say that? I’m such a hypocrite.

  “I know,” she says. “But we’re so compatible in the bedroom. Surely that’s a sign we’re made to be with each other.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Who’s better in bed; me or Tamsin?”

  “You, but …”

  “Tell me our sex life’s not awesome.”

  “It’s really good, but …”

  “You have to admit that Tamsin doesn’t satisfy you the way I do. You say it all the time.”

  “That’s not the point. Just hang on a minute …,” I say as she tries to interrupt me again.

  “Soph, I’m in love with my wife. I always have been. I always will be. Admittedly our sex life could be better, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about her. The rest of our marriage is great. We have the odd row, but we work through it and move on. There’s no way I’d leave Tamsin or my kids.”

  “But I’m certain I could make you really happy. Happier than you are with her. She doesn’t deserve you. She doesn’t love you as much as I do. Give me a chance to prove it. We could start again and make a new family of our own.”

  I can’t help considering what Sophia has said, if only briefly.

  It actually is possible that she loves me more than Tamsin does.

  And the sex is incredible.

  And we get on really well and make each other laugh all the time.

  Could I honestly be happier with Sophia?

  It’s just the briefest aberration.

  Tamsin is the love of my life.

  My kids mean the world to me.

  That’s all there is to it.

  ◆◆◆

  “Soph, we can never be together the way you want. I made that clear from the start. I’m really fond of you and I love spending time with you, but I’ll never leave my wife and family.”

  Sophia starts to cry again.

  I continue, speaking softly. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I thought we both understood the limits of our relationship.”

  “Please, Lee. Now you know I love you, please give me a chance to convince you that we should be together,” Sophia splutters, between sobs.

  “It’s never going to happen. I don’t mean to sound cruel, Soph, but I have to be honest with you. We need to stop seeing each other. We should just concentrate on re-building our marriages. It’s the right thing to do.”

  This doesn’t help cheer her up. The tears continue to fall and the sobbing increases to the point where Sophia can no longer speak. I have no choice but to wait until she composes herself.

  Eventually, the crying subsides.

  Her tears have left a large damp patch on Sophia’s blouse, through which I can clearly see her lacy, black bra. I feel awful for being aroused by sexy underwear at a moment like this. What kind of heartless monster have I become?

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “Not really.” She looks at me, holding my gaze with her red-rimmed eyes.

  “I hate seeing you so upset.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she says.

  “I should be getting home.”

  “I know.” She puts her hand on my knee. “I don’t want it to be over, Lee. Please, at least think about it before you decide definitely. Sleep on it over the weekend.”

  I’m convinced that my mind is already made up, but I can’t say that. I don’t want Sophia to start crying again.

  “Okay. I’ll do that. But don’t get your hopes up. We both know that ending our affair is the right thing to do.”

  “Thanks,” Sophia says and leans forward to kiss me.

  “Don’t.” I raise my hand between us and lean away from her. “Look, I’ll see you on Monday.”

  There’s nothing more to say. Just one word.

  “Bye.” She offers me a wan smile, opens the door, stands and walks forlornly back to her car.

  ◆◆◆

  I watch, miserable and guilt-ridden, as Sophia makes a U-turn and drives off towards her house, and when she’s out of sight, I start my engine and head home.

  The first thing I do on arrival is go upstairs and lock myself in the bathroom in order to read and delete my recent messages and call log.

  There are twenty-three messages from Sophia:

  “Hi.”

  “I’m really sorry. Xxx”

  “Please can we talk in my office? X”

  “I’m so sorry. Xxx”

  “Please say something. X”

  “Why won’t you reply? X”

  “Come to my office. I need to talk to you. Xxx”

  “There’s something I want to tell you.”

  “It’s important.”

  “If you don’t reply to my messages, I’m going to come and speak to you in person.”

  “Why are you being so mean to me?”

  “I just want to explain.”

  “I love you, Lee. Xxx”

  “I’m in love with you. Xxx”

  “Say something.”

  “I had no idea Joe was coming home.”

  “He’s never come home before.”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “Please don’t be like this. X”

  “I’m so sorry I had sex with him. I really didn’t want to. Xxx”

  “I love you so much! Xxxxx”

  “I’m going to continue to send messages until you reply.”

  “Please come and see me before you go home. X”

  I delete them all.

  The affair is over.

  I can relax.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Letter

  The next day, shortly after Tamsin politely but firmly rebuffs my suggestion of Saturday morning sex, I offer to give her a lift to the train station. She’s spending the day shopping with Nilofer. As she lowers herself into the passenger seat of my car, and turns to smile at me, I have to admire her. She looks stunning today. Her hair and make-up are perfect, and she’s wearing a very elegant new outfit. I’ve definitely made the correct choice. Tamsin is the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.

  I start the engine and the radio springs to life as I begin to drive.

  “Classical music!” she says. “I didn’t realise you were into this old stuff.”

  “Oh, yes. I’m a big fan. There are probably all sorts of things you don’t know about me.”

  “Like what?”

  “Er … like I’m considering taking up tennis so I can spend more time with you.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Tamsin says, the same way she says it when I go down on her. I have my doubts that she really means it.

  “And you’ve started to chew gum? I didn’t know that either.” Tamsin points to the wad of gum in my cup-holder.

  “I have indeed. Why do you think my breath is always so fresh?”

  This is a trick I learnt during my internet research into having affairs: always keep some chewing gum in the car. That minty smell disguises all sorts of suspicious aromas. Buying gum is one more thing I won’t have to do anymore.

  We arrive at the station and Tamsin climbs out of the car.

  “Thanks for the lift. See you later,” she says.

  “Hey! Haven’t you forgotten something?”

  “What’s that?” she leans back into the car.

  “My goodbye kiss,” I say and pucker my lips.

  She puts one knee on
the passenger seat and leans across to peck me on the cheek.

  As she reverses back out the door, she spots something on the headrest of the passenger seat.

  “What’s this?” she says, holding a long hair between her thumb and forefinger. “Why is there a blonde hair in your car?”

  Good grief! I thought the days of concealing my affair were behind me.

  “Oh, that’s probably from the prostitute I picked up last night for a quick blow job.”

  “That’s not funny, Lee. Any serious excuses?”

  “No idea, Tam. Maybe something to do with one of the kids’ friends?”

  “Maybe.” She drops it on the ground, seemingly convinced.

  “I’d better go. I think that’s my train pulling in.”

  With that, she scurries towards the station entrance, without a backward glance.

  ◆◆◆

  I’ve considered using prostitutes a few times. Surely, if I’m not getting enough intimacy at home, it would be acceptable to pay a sex worker to reconcile my carnal imbalance? To be honest, I don’t think Tamsin would even mind, as long as I didn’t bring home any sexually transmitted diseases. At least it would take the pressure off her, and she wouldn’t have to endure my constant pawing and requests quite so often.

  The appeal of taking advantage of sex workers would be that I could actually ask for what I truly desired, as licentious as it may be, and hand over proportionate financial compensation to the unfortunate facilitator. There’d be no need to feel embarrassed or perverted. It would simply be a business arrangement with a complete stranger who I’d never see again. Wouldn’t it be nice to just be able to say:

  “How much would you charge to do this, that and the other to me; and to let me do this, that and the other to you?”

  “Really? That seems ever so reasonable. How long would I get for that much money?”

  “Hmm! Very tempting. And you honestly wouldn’t object to doing that because there’s no way my wife would. Not even on my birthday.”

  “I see. I must say, that’s extremely accommodating of you.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is your job. Presumably, you take cash?”

  “Would you want it up front or afterwards?”

  “That’s fine. Listen, are you sure you wouldn’t mind doing that ...?”

  I have a couple of problems with the concept of paying someone for sex.

  My first problem is, I suspect there’s a substantial number of sex workers who’re forced to do it against their will, and there’s no way of knowing which of them see it as a job – a necessary evil which has to be endured in order to put food on the table; which are being illegally compelled to do it by a third party; or which have to do it in order to pay for an addiction. Is it their choice or are they being exploited?

  Presumably, there are high-class escorts who earn far more money than me for having sex with sports figures, politicians and movie stars. They live in expensive apartments, wear nice clothes and can pick and choose who they sleep with. They might even enjoy some aspects of their job for a while, but it’s not exactly a lifelong career. I contemplate splashing out on a high-end sex worker:

  “How much would you charge to do this, that and the other to me; and to let me do this, that and the other to you?”

  “Bloody hell! Do people actually pay that much?”

  “I see. And you definitely wouldn’t do that for any amount of money?”

  “Fair enough. It is pretty gross. Well, you certainly are an exquisite woman.”

  “You’re welcome. Sorry to have wasted your time.”

  My second problem is, I don’t want to have sex with someone who I’m not attracted to. I’ve never knowingly met a prostitute in real life, but the way they’re portrayed on television is particularly unattractive. The ones in my price bracket are usually either scrawny, spotty, greasy drug addicts or obese, spotty, greasy drug addicts. They certainly don’t look like they spend much time at the gym or the beauty salon.

  I guess, if I was ever to employ the services of a sex worker, it would be at a massage parlour. A nice, relaxing rub-down, culminating in a happy ending, my eyes firmly closed the whole time, imagining that it’s Tamsin’s soft hands all over my body. It could be just what I need now that I’ve ended my affair.

  The best thing about my relationship with Sophia was, I could ask her to do anything, and she’d willingly and enthusiastically comply. In fact, she actively encouraged me to tell her my deepest, darkest, kinkiest desires. She was my very own, free, non-judgemental, devoted sex worker.

  I’m going to miss her.

  ◆◆◆

  It’s Monday morning, and Sophia has already made a point of walking past my desk several times. She’s clearly made an effort to look her best today and is receiving admiring and lustful glances from most of the men and some of the women around the office. Unwilling to endure another onslaught of text messages, I go to see Sophia in her office at the start of my lunch break. I’m keen to confirm my decision to terminate our affair, clear the air, and resume a professional, friendly relationship with my former lover.

  “Hi,” I say from the doorway.

  “Hi. Come in. Have a seat.” Sophia gets up from behind her desk and closes the door, confining me within her territory.

  “How are you doing?” I say.

  “That depends on what your decision is.”

  She looks at me, searchingly, trying to read the expression on my face.

  Now I can see her up close, it’s apparent that she’s not in great shape at all. Beneath the thick make-up her face looks puffy, and there are red veins visible in the whites of her eyes. I suspect that she’s not had much sleep this weekend. Hopefully Joe hasn’t spotted anything amiss.

  “Please sit down, Lee. You look ridiculous standing there.”

  I comply.

  I want this over as quickly as possible, so I get straight to the point.

  “Soph, I haven’t changed my mind. These past months have been wonderful. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope you have too, but I honestly believe it’s for the best if we stop seeing each other now.”

  Any remaining vestiges of hope leave Sophia’s face, and she crumples in her chair.

  She doesn’t say anything, but at least she’s not crying.

  “You’re an important part of my life,” I continue. “I really hope we can still be friends. Good friends.”

  Still she doesn’t speak. She gazes down at her hands, resting interlocked on her lap, and looks devastated.

  “We’ve been fortunate to get away with it for so long,” I say. “It’s best if we don’t push our luck, and just end it while our marriages are still intact.”

  She raises her head and looks at me.

  “But I don’t want our marriages to be intact. I want to be with you, not with Joe.” I shake my head, but she continues before I can speak. “What I told you on Friday is the truth, Lee. I’m in love with you and I want to be with you. Nothing is going to change that. I can’t simply switch off the way I feel.”

  “I’m sorry, Soph. This was never supposed to happen. We both agreed it was about sex, not love.”

  “I’m afraid it was always about love for me.”

  “You lied to me.” I say it softly, not wanting this conversation to turn into an argument at the office.

  “I had to. You were so adamant our affair was just for the sex that I didn’t want to scare you off by revealing my true feelings. I hoped, after spending time together, you’d fall in love with me too. And I thought you had.”

  “What made you think that? I certainly never said it.”

  “You didn’t have to say it. I could tell by the way you looked at me when we made love.”

  I sigh.

  “I’m really sorry. I do love looking at you when we have sex… when we had sex. I’m really fond of you, Soph, but I’m not in love with you. I’m in love with Tamsin and that isn’t going to change.”

  I pause, expecting
Sophia to speak, but she says nothing, so I try to bring this dialogue to a conclusion.

  “Our affair is over. It should never have happened in the first place. I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you, Soph, but we must do the right thing now. We need to move on, as friends and colleagues who care a lot about each other, but that’s it. No more sex. No more inappropriate messages. It’s probably best if we try to not be alone together, at least for a while, until we get back into a routine of behaving appropriately.”

  She holds my gaze for a long time. An uncomfortably long time. She looks sad and broken.

  “That’s not what I want,” she says.

  “But I’m afraid that’s how it’s going to have to be,” I reply, slowly getting to my feet and edging towards the door. “Bye, Soph.”

  I open the door and head to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee I don’t think I'll be able to drink.

  ◆◆◆

  Have I done the right thing? Sophia has convinced me that she’s genuinely in love with me. I feel flattered by that and terrified at the same time. It’s uplifting to have an attractive woman fall in love with you, but the revelation that I’m responsible for Sophia’s happiness is making me very uncomfortable.

  She claimed she was already in love with me before we even started having sex. I know from my earlier research that 51 percent of men and 63 percent of women consider emotional affairs to be actual infidelity. Does that let me off the hook at all? Most people, especially women, would consider Sophia to have been unfaithful to her husband before I even grabbed her bottom, merely due to her feelings for me. It wasn’t my fault she fell in love with me. She’d already been unfaithful in her heart before I even had sex with her.

  I find it bizarre how men and women differ so much when it comes to emotional infidelity.

  Most men say, they’d be more upset if their partner was having a sexual relationship, but hadn’t fallen in love.

  Most women say, they’d be more upset if their partner had fallen in love, but hadn’t had sex with that person.