Secret Lives of Cheating Wives

by Curtis Bunn

  He finished his shower, and entered their bedroom, which was only lit by the moonlight gleaning through the blinds. He slid into bed as quietly as possible, curled up with his back to Juanita and closed his eyes.

  They lay there in quiet, wide awake. Juanita wanted the night to be over, but decided it was best to take the offense, to act as if everything was fine. So she turned over and sidled up against Maurice’s body, which was rigid and warm.

  “Maurice,” she whispered into his ear, “I love you.”

  Those were the last words she uttered to her husband on most nights before they went to sleep. They were sincere words; her infidelity did not take away from her love for her husband. The affair was a separate entity—a separate account, so to speak, that had different deposits of emotions and purposes.

  She liked being a different person with Brandon. She was the woman she wanted to be. Besides their hotel encounters, she would stop by his apartment after getting her hair done on Saturday afternoons, have sex, and go home feeling reinvigorated. She enjoyed being irresponsible. The “bad girl” behavior balanced out the goody-two-shoes life she lived.

  She never considered ending her marriage, though. She also seldom considered the pain it would cause Maurice if he found out. That’s what scared her—hurting her husband, losing his respect, her reputation, her family.

  Maurice was equally fearful of the same things. But Juanita’s perceived perfection impacted his self-esteem. He often felt inferior to her status as the sweetest, kindest, perfect woman. With Gloria, he had a no-strings-attached situation where he was not judged by how people judged her.

  Whatever their misguided reasons, Juanita and Maurice faced potential revelations that could implode a marriage that meant a lot to them.

  “I love you, too,” Maurice responded to his wife.

  She kissed him on his shoulder and he slowly turned from his side to his back. Juanita put her arm around him, and he kissed it. She raised her head and their lips met. They kissed deeply—more passionately than they had in several weeks.

  He caressed her body and she closed her eyes, trying desperately to take in the passion between husband and wife. They kissed again before she turned her back to him and lifted up her nightgown and pulled down her panties. She did not want him to see the shame on her face.

  Maurice entered her from behind, and she cried as her husband made love to her. There were tears of guilt and regret—and because she wished it was Brandon in bed with her.

  She hoped making love would close some of the intangible distance between them and push aside any concerns Maurice might have had about her and Brandon. Yes, she used sex to divert attention from her misdeeds. She was that desperate to keep her reputation and live up to her image, while averting a crisis in her marriage.

  She wiped her face as he did his business and waited for him to finish. When he did, Juanita pulled up the covers, curled up in the fetal position and cried herself to sleep. Maurice had no idea.

  In the morning, they agreed to pass on going to church and to spend the day at home with the kids. They had the same idea: To reinforce the value of family to deter bad behavior.

  They both slipped away to text Brandon and Gloria, respectively, but they were mostly holding their breath that the other would not bring up what they learned at the party.

  It was not until that Sunday night that Maurice indirectly addressed the situation. “I think we should have another session with Dr. Fields tomorrow, if we can. Can you make yourself available around three?”

  Juanita tried to seem unfazed. “Yes, I think. If you confirm the appointment in the morning, I will make sure I’m there.”

  She was interested in going because it was eating her up not to share what she had been doing with anyone. Juanita was not an open person, but she was a talker who liked to share her world with those closest to her. She often was mindful not to come off as boastful when she talked about her family or career.

  There were two of many girlfriends she was close to, but would not dare share with them her activities with Brandon. In fact, she had not returned a call from Sandra because she was too busy running around with Brandon.

  That thought inspired her to text her friend before putting the kids to bed. Sandra responded immediately.

  So, you are alive, huh? Good. Let’s do lunch tomorrow. I have some news.

  Juanita wrote back: OK. Noon at Fiola. Is it good news?

  Sandra: It’s juicy.

  The next morning, Maurice called her on her job to tell her the first available appointment was Thursday—four days away. They agreed to take that appointment. “Do you think we need to talk before then, among ourselves?” he asked. Wondering if Juanita knew something was getting to him.

  “We can always talk, Maurice. So maybe we will.”

  They hung up and she confirmed her lunch date with Sandra, which was good because Brandon texted her a few minutes later asking to see her.

  I made plans with my girlfriend. And after Saturday night, I shouldn’t be missing in action any time soon, if ever again.

  Brandon texted her back: Good. You’re going to try to make your marriage work?

  Instead of texting him, she called.

  “You know how much I enjoy being with you. But we talked about it the last time I saw you—I can’t see you anymore. Not like that. I want to. I do. But I can’t afford for Maurice to find out. I have to protect my family.”

  “I understand, ’Nita. I’m good.”

  “But your text after the party said you had seen my husband with your friend?”

  “Gloria. Yes. I met her when I was driving Uber on an off day. Picked her up at the Rayburn Building. Dropped her at her house. On the way, we connected and she gave me her number. But when she got out, the guy standing there waiting for her looked like your husband. I didn’t know at the time. And I could be wrong. I’m only telling you this because you’re my girl. I don’t hate on someone else doing their thing. And I’m not telling you so we can keep doing what we’ve been doing. My allegiance is to you. You should know.”

  “Are you sure it was him?”

  “Not one hundred percent. But if I had to bet on it, I would say it was him.”

  “Okay. Thanks. I gotta go.”

  It was one thing to read a text from Brandon while under duress. It was another to hear the conviction and certainty in his voice. And she was immediately angry and hurt and disappointed.

  How could Maurice cheat on me? I have been all he could ever want.

  Still, as mad and hurt and disappointed as she was, she had done the same to Maurice.

  If this is true, if Maurice really is cheating on me, then maybe it’s what I deserve.

  By the time she met Sandra for lunch, Juanita was confused about what to do and what to say to her husband. She worried: Would accusing Maurice of cheating spark him to counter-accuse, forcing her to defend an indefensible position? And she questioned: Would it all just go away if none of it was ever discussed?

  She placed her swirling thoughts aside when she saw Sandra waiting for her at Fiola. They hugged and smiled and complimented each other on how they looked after they got to their table.

  “I’m trying to figure out why you disappeared for about a month,” Sandra said.

  “It’s been crazy at work and home, really. But everything’s good.”

  “Of course, it is; you have the perfect life.”

  “Don’t start.”

  “You do. Be glad for it. I’m about ready to kill the men in my life every other day.”

  “Anyway, what’s going on with you? What’s this juicy news?”

  “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “What, Sandra?”

  “Alexandria is having an affair.”

  Alexandria was the third member of their close-knit group, a realtor in Northern Virginia. She was a stylish, dignified woman with a middle-school-aged daughter and a husband of twelve years who owned four McDonald’s.

&nbs
p; “Stop. How do you know this?”

  “She told me.”

  Juanita looked at her with a strange expression.

  “That’s right, she told me. We were at Busboys and Poets on Fourteenth and she blurted it out. Said she had this client who moved here from L.A. She showed him properties for a week. She said the attraction was immediate, but she didn’t think he had any interest in her. But when he found the house he wanted to buy—a place over in Old Town—he hugged her and then kissed her. She said she kissed him back.

  “This was almost a month ago. She’s been seeing him ever since.”

  “Seeing him is different from sleeping with him.”

  “She screwed him that day—right there in the house he decided to buy. Said they ‘blessed the house.’ And here’s the crazy part: She said she’s so happy.”

  “I’m stunned. I thought their marriage was rock-solid. She never complained—well, not to me—about any problems they were having.”

  “Me, either. But apparently something major was going on. For her to sleep with this man she knew for a week is not what I would have expected out of her.”

  “Does she know you’re telling me?”

  “She called you herself, but you didn’t call her back. She was going to tell you. We’re the only ones who know.”

  “I guess you never know what’s really going on in people’s lives. I could have sworn Alexandria would never cheat.”

  “I know. She said it could be a midlife crisis. But she also said she and John have been arguing a lot over small stuff and it’s worn on her. You know he likes to drink and go out without her a lot on Fridays after work. She got tired of complaining and did something to make herself happy. That’s what she said.”

  The server came over and took their orders. Juanita thought about the news she had heard, and it made her feel better about herself. It was the misery loves company thing. Learning someone else had done wrong validated that she’s not a bad person, someone who made amoral decisions. It didn’t take away from the person she was. She believed that because her opinion of Alexandria did not change with learning of her infidelities.

  After they ate, Juanita considered telling Sandra about her life. But only for a second. That news would go to the grave with her. But the belief that Maurice was having an affair would be a stunner to Sandra—and it would help her to get out in front of what could come out about her affair.

  But Juanita was fiercely private and protective of the reputation she built. Her husband cheating would be a reflection on her. Plus, what if he was not the man Brandon saw at Gloria’s house? If he denied it, there would be no way to prove the accusation. Why muddy the name of my husband on hearsay?

  So she kept quiet.

  “I will call Alexandria tonight. I can’t believe this heifer. I hope she doesn’t allow it to mess up her marriage.”

  “That’s always the risk. I never told anyone,” Sandra said, “but I had an affair on Thomas when I was married way back—”

  “What?”

  “I did. I never told anyone. Well, I told Alexandria when she told me about what’s going on with her. But before then, I kept it to myself. The thing about it was, I wasn’t looking to cheat. I went to one of my high-school reunions and saw one of my old crushes. We started talking and kept in touch and the next thing I knew, we started this fling.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “Good. I didn’t want you to have one. It lasted about four months. I won’t lie: There was something really exciting about sneaking around. It was wrong and I would never recommend someone put her marriage on the line like that, especially a woman. But I did enjoy it.”

  “How did you end it? Why did you end it?”

  “It got to a point where I was getting too reliant on it. It was hurting my home life. I was seeing him every week, so that means I was lying every week and putting my marriage in jeopardy every week. Turns out, the marriage failed, anyway, but not because I was cheating.”

  It was not lost on Juanita that Sandra’s story sounded like hers. In fact, Sandra identified something that Juanita had not—she was becoming dependent on Brandon.

  “And I tell you what; I still miss that thrill sometimes. I can tell you and Alexandria this, and no one else. I would never encourage someone to cheat. Never. But it worked for me for the time I was in it. And I felt bad about it. I’m lucky I didn’t get caught. And I told Alex: ‘You’re a grown woman and you know what you’re doing. But please be careful.’ That’s all I could say.”

  Juanita took it all in. Her two closest friends had cheated on their husbands. For her, it made them more human, more likeable because they were able to admit their mistakes. She was proud of them, in a strange way. But she was not proud of herself. She could not be that open with her dearest friends. She never seriously considered telling them.

  And she knew at the session with Dr. Fields on Thursday she would not admit to any wrongdoing. She, at times, detested her impeccable reputation, but she coveted it, too—and would go to extreme lengths to protect it.

  Juanita preferred she get back to her life as if Brandon never had happened. But he did happen, and that left her vulnerable.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  TRUE LIES

  RHONDA

  She decided to give it to Olivia raw, but less than truthful. She figured making up an elaborate lie to protect their friendship was better than telling her that she had been sleeping with the guy she had an interest in.

  “I met a guy.”

  Olivia seemed stumped at first. Rhonda was among the last people she would expect to cheat. She saw her dote over her husband when he had the flu. She passed on many girls’ nights out to stay at home with Eric. She seemed perfectly content in her life, her marriage.

  “A guy? What?”

  “I met a guy. A man.”

  “And?”

  “And I like him. His name is Adam. He’s a dentist. A nice man.”

  “Wait. I don’t get it. What are you talking about?”

  “Eric left me.”

  “What? Rhonda. . .”

  “Yes. Last night. He found out that I met this guy and have been seeing him for about a month. And he left me.”

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. What are you doing seeing another man? I’m shocked.”

  “It has been building for a while. I’m not proud of it. I have to say that. But Eric let himself go. You see the weight he’s gained. And he doesn’t seem to think that’s a problem, that I should be okay with him swelling up.”

  “I’m not the most fair person; I’ll admit that,” Olivia said. “I’m selfish—but that’s who I am. No kids, no husband. But you married Eric for a reason. I thought it would be forever.”

  “I know. I went into it thinking he was the man for my lifetime. But things changed. We grew apart. I know that sounds like a cliché. But it’s true. We want different things out of life. I want a husband who’s connected to me, who wants to do things and live life. Not someone who eats himself to death and has no concern about his appearance and has no interest in exploring the world.

  “And don’t tell me that’s shallow. It’s what’s important to me.”

  Her mix of truth and lies did not go down easy for Olivia, who liked and respected Eric. But she was among Rhonda’s tightest friends, and her allegiance was to her.

  “Girl, I want you to be happy. Simple as that. I’m surprised. Shocked, actually. I never would have expected this.”

  “I’m okay with it, I guess. One minute I’m fine. The next minute I worry about having failed my husband. I worry about living alone. I worry about being single.”

  “All that is legit stuff to worry about, especially being single.”

  “You seem to be doing fine.”

  “Yeah, like you seemed to be doing fine in your marriage. This single life is no joke. We ain’t spring chickens no more; gravity took hold and our stuff is falling. Then you look at the number of men out here who think they’r
e the bomb because women are so desperate that they put up with their crap.”

  “I thought you liked being able to date who you want to date.”

  “Half of that is true. But the other half is that there isn’t a lot to date—a lot of quality anyway. Look at Lorenzo.”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s single and he seems like a good guy. But I’m sure he’s running a bunch of women.”

  “Why would you think that? You said he was gay.”

  “Why wouldn’t he have a bunch of women? It’s wide open for single men. I’m not saying he’s a whore—but maybe he is. He sure has the ability to be one. Or maybe he is gay. I don’t know. But tell me about this guy you’re seeing. Are you seeing him, like sleeping with him?”

  In that moment, Rhonda realized she had made a mistake. She should have told Olivia the truth or nothing at all. The lie was about to get bigger, and that made her feel sick to her stomach.

  “I don’t want to say too much more, Olivia. I can say he’s a single, respectable man and we will see how things go.”

  “You know you’re going to have a problem with him trusting you, right?”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because you started seeing him while you’re married. In the back of his mind, he will always wonder if you’ll do it to him, too. It only makes sense. His ego will allow him to believe you cheated because he’s so wonderful, but only to a point. And the point comes when you’re not where he thinks you should be at a particular time. That’s when your history will come in. He will always believe you are capable of cheating—and that’s hard for a man to swallow.”

  Rhonda had not given that position any thought. It all had happened so quickly. Olivia’s words forced her to focus and at least begin thinking about a plan. But she wanted to know something else first.

  “So, back to being single. You don’t like it?”

  “I’m forty-three, never been married, no kids. For some women, that’s okay. They’re fine with it. Not me. I always wanted a husband and family. I’m not unhappy with my life. About four years ago, when I broke up with Tony, I gave up on having a husband and family. Well, I didn’t give up. But I settled in my mind that it might not happen, so I could be okay with it. And I am.