Of course I've had lovers since I've been married. Three affairs, a Morse code: two shorts and a long—eighteen months and a messy breakup. Joseph never had a clue, poor stupid bastard, never suspected his perfect wife, never felt a pang of jealousy or suspicion.
Of course, I was the soul of discretion, never gave myself away. I met them out of town, used phone cards, took long showers. I was a great fuck, but I cleaned up afterwards. I had alibis, but I never asked anyone to lie for me. The lies of others trip you up.
I needn't have bothered. Joseph never checked on me. I'd come home, freshly fucked, and he'd say, “Have a nice day, honey?” It made me laugh, at first.
I have cyber lovers, too. I'll sit next to him on the couch, my laptop tilted slightly away, while men describe what they are doing to my lovely white virtual body. I cover my tracks beautifully: erase the history on my computer, hide my chat rooms. Wasted effort. I don't think Joseph would ever check.
Fool. The day he cares enough to open his eyes is the day he will appreciate me at my true worth.