My name is Nathan. My wife and I got married when we were twenty-seven. We divorced almost twenty years later because of my infidelity.

My story:

Before my senior year of high school, I got a part time job working at a local auto parts store. Usually, I stocked shelves and assisted customers. Sometimes the owner wouldn't show up or was hung over, leaving me to manage the store.

I used the job to pay for a small car, and later I kept the job to help pay off living expenses, books and other items while I attended a local community college.

I managed to graduate in a few years, with an associate degree in management. The college had a job-fair day, and I applied to a couple of companies. The company I interviewed hired me on the spot, but they required me to move to another state.

When I arrived at my new job, I was assigned to the logistics department. The people were friendly, but not very open to me. One thing I didn't get used to, was the office politics and the ass kissing.

Lucky for me, I had an older mentor who taught me the wiles of the office politics during our lunch breaks. She told me rule number one was never date anyone who worked for or did business with the company.

The second rule was to keep my mouth shut and eyes open.

Two years later, I worked my way into a better position and of course the promotions and bonuses came, also.

Soon, my mentor retired, and I sat with her and her husband at the retirement dinner the company gave her. She reminded me of the earlier lessons and told her husband that I would go further in my career than she did.

We wished each other luck after dinner, and yes, I followed my mentor's advice over the years.

I dated a few women I met during the happy hours or when I went out on the town.

One woman, I met and eventually married was Jeanette. We met at a friend's wedding, where she was one of the bride's maids. We hit things off, well enough to get married two years later.

Jeanette was a secretary for a law firm, but she was not legal qualified. She was hired because her family were friends of an attorney. We had an average wedding and a neat honeymoon in Hawaii.

A year afterward, we moved from our apartment and settled into a nice neighborhood. The mortgage put a bit of stress on our finances, but we figured we could make it.

Jeanette and I decided against having children. After we were married for almost two years, Jeanette decided to attend community college and go into marketing. She said that working for a law firm was not for her, and I supported her through two years of school.

After her graduation, Jeanette got on with the local newspaper. At first, she had to assist with advertising sales and became a bit successful. She decided to try her luck at a large company two years later. We were stunned to learn she was hired.

We began to have a good lifestyle that provided us with above average tastes. We eventually took vacations in the places other people wish for and we saw many of the worldly sights, concerts and shows. We thought we had the perfect marriage.

Fast forward a few years.

Jeanette and I moved up in our positions within our careers and we sold our house and moved to a gated community that included a country club membership.

Jeanette was beginning to travel to other large cities and assist with advertising for several large corporations. She made it a point to call me every evening before she went to sleep. Usually, we used our face time apps and chatted.

We had a very good thing going and we had plans to retire before we reached the age of fifty-five. Life, as I assumed, at the age of forty-two was going great.

Jeanette and I had everything married couples wanted. We had some good friends, we traveled often, and our sex life was good and healthy. Or so I thought.

We always had sex once or twice a week, but within the past year, it had tapered off to once or twice a month.

Jeanette remained attractive and always received second looks when we dressed up to go out somewhere. She could wear a bikini on the beach and compare with younger women. I wasn't a slouch, either. We kept in shape by exercising together at the local health club and the only times we worked out separately were when one of us was away from home.

When Jeanette or I came home from one of our week-long trips, the travel and hotels would tire us. We had a routine where most of the time, we would stay home for a day or so, and I would prepare dinner so we could unwind.

I think about five years after Janette took her new job, I received a promotion.

A few years passed, and I noticed she appeared more distant, and our sex life seemed to drop off. I figured it was because we were forty-two and that was normal for couples who have been married longer than ten years.

Men tend to be goal oriented and sometimes we get tunnel vision and locked onto the goals or within our careers. Then, we don't see what’s happening at home. And Jeanette was no different. The usual temptations of infidelity were showing up, but we didn't notice them at first.

My new management position involved working with several groups of people from different parts of the eastern United States. One of the company's offices was in Miami. I visited there several times, and Jeanette joined me on an occasion.

We enjoyed the trip, as we spent a couple of days riding through the Keys and relaxing.

After a year or so, Jeanette had to go off on a business trip, and I decided I would take one and return to Miami. I didn’t have to go necessarily, as I could have used a teleconference meeting. But what fun is that?

“I won’t be home for the rest of the week,” I told Jeanette. “I needed to be there, because there were delays with some contracts.” This seemed strange to Jeanette and apparently, I didn't sound convincing.

She didn’t say anything and went about her personal things before leaving.

I left for Miami the day after Janette left for New York. When I arrived at my company’s office in Miami, I called Jeanette to see how she was doing. During our phone conversation, she heard people laughing in the background. I happened to be in the building's canteen or cafeteria, getting some lunch, which I did every day. Many times I ate lunch with an associate, but this day, I was by myself.

I wasn't busy, and checked out the patrons as I ate. Several attractive women caught my eye. Especially some of the Latin-American women.

The next day, as I sat in an office, I ventured off on some online advisement about what to look for in a partner who may be cheating. I was stunned, because I was doing most of the things the article mentioned.

I wondered if Jeanette was spying on me and suspected me of infidelity. Or could she be fooling around?

That evening, nothing on the television interested me, so I went to the hotel lounge. I sat at a small table, ordered a glass of water, and began reading some emails off my phone. I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, when a feminine voice with a hint of accent, startled me, “Hello, are you busy?”

An attractive woman wearing black slacks and blouse, whom I recognized from one of the cafeteria visits, was standing beside my table. She appeared to be Cuban descent or a variation of black and Cuban. But very sexy, to say the least.

“UH, no. No, I’m not,” I said as I placed my phone on the table. “Care to join me?” She smiled, laid her purse and her drink on the table, sat in the chair across from me, and introduced herself.

“I’m Amara. I’ve noticed you around the office building's cafeteria a few times.”

“Hello, Amara. Yes, as you may have guessed, I’m from corporate and I go around to the branch offices to visit the managers.”

Amara eyed me as she took a sip of her drink, then said, “I thought so. Is the branch satisfactory?”

“Yes, the Miami office is doing quite well. Your manager, Mick and the sales manager, Joey, are doing exceptionally. You should all be proud of yourselves.

I nearly finished with my water, and a waitress stopped and asked if we needed anything. I requested a refill, and when Amara heard the waitress mention my order of water, she looked surprised but didn’t say anything.

We chatted for about an hour, before Amara stood and said it was getting late. I looked at my watch as I stood, then I escorted her to her car. “I enjoyed the conversation, Amara. Will I see you at the cafeteria tomorrow?” I asked.

Amara smiled, not answering my question, thanked me for walking her to her car.

The next day, I saw Amara walking ahead of me in one of the building’s corridors. She was dressed in a black, pleated skirt that rose above her knees, a grey blouse and heeled shoes. I admitted to myself she was looking sexy. She was a distance ahead, but she didn’t see me until she was about to enter one of the offices. She stopped briefly to wave before going on about her day.

After dinner, that night, I returned to the lounge, and the waitress brought my glass of water. I don’t think I was seated for more than five minutes when Amara walked over.

“I see you have your water. You do not drink?” she asked.

“No, I learned years ago about how bad hangovers don’t mix with business,” I laughed.

Amara sat across from me, like she did the night before. A waitress stopped and asked her for her order, and Amara ordered a strawberry daiquiri.

“How long have you been married?” Amara asked.

“I think it’s around eighteen years.”

“Any children?”
“No, we’re our own children,” I joked.

Amara smiled and turned to the waitress that brought her daiquiri.

“How about you?” I asked.

“Divorced, no children.”

We talked about marriage and life. Amara had a second daiquiri, and I settled with my glass of water. After about an hour, I looked at my watch.
“Amara, are you going to be OK with your drive home?” I asked. I noted Amara had three daiquiris while we talked.

“Yes, I should be.”

“Do you live far from here?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“Are you sure that you’re going to be OK?” I asked again.

Amara gathered her purse and as she attempted to stand, she lost her balance briefly but held onto her chair to keep from falling.

“I’m OK.” Amara stammered as she steadied herself.

“I don’t think you ought to drive.” I warned.

“Are you suggesting that you drive me home?”

“Yes, I can do that.”

Amara thought about it, then agreed that it would be the right thing.

As we walked toward Amara’s car, she began to stagger a bit.

“I don’t think you’re going to make it home,” I said. “There’s an extra bed in my room. You can take it and sleep it off.”

“I’m sorry, I had to take some medications earlier and I shouldn’t have gone out tonight,” Amara said as she looked at her car.

We made it back to my hotel room and Amara sat on the other bed as I was about to go into the bathroom.

“I don’t have anything to sleep in,” Amara said looking up at me.

“Sleep naked,” I mused.

“Then you might take advantage of that.”

“I’d be tempted,” I smiled as I went to do my bedtime duties. Amara cocked her head and smiled.

When I left the bathroom, Amara was leaning over and removing her shoes. Then she stood, removed her blouse, and let her skirt drop.

As she walked to the bathroom, she loosened her bra and let it drop to the floor.

The next morning, I watched Amara leave the hotel, then I showered and got dressed for the day.

I was flying home the next day, so I wrapped up a couple of items with a couple of people.

I did not see Amara at the company's cafeteria later at lunch and asked one of the salesmen, who was having lunch with me about her.

“Oh, she comes in every few days. She’s a rep or something from one of the corporate offices here.”

I must have looked surprised, as the guy gave me a funny look.

When I got home, Jeanette was silent. I asked her about her week, and she barely replied that it was OK.

That night, Jeanette slept in the other bedroom. But not before she told me about Amara, or "Whatever her name was," she demanded.

I was busted.

I was served the next morning at my office and was ordered to move out of my house immediately. I called my lawyer and set up a meeting that afternoon. I considered lying to my lawyer and say nothing happened. But she warned me before I lied: Amara was paid for by someone associated with Jeanette.

After settling into a hotel that evening, I was confused and couldn’t sleep. I was set up and I didn’t know why.

The pending divorce was caused by my infidelity what really sucked, the entire duration of our marriage I cheated one time and got caught.

Jeanette wanted a quick divorce, so it took about six months to complete.

I lost half of everything, sold the house and I didn't have to pay alimony. But I had to pay the divorce costs for both of us.

Before the divorce was final, I moved to the Miami area because I lost my job during that time.

I managed to find something else to do after I moved.

One day, not long after the divorce proceedings were finished, I was sitting alone at a sandwich shop having lunch. I heard a woman’s voice, “Mind If I join you?” I looked up to see Amara.

“Well, I don’t know,” I replied. “I guess this visit won’t cost me as much as the last time.”

Amara stepped back a couple of paces, holding her purse with both hands.

I assumed she probably had a small handgun in it.

“I’m sorry, if that helps. But I was only doing a job,” Amara stated.

“If it helps your conscience, then you believe what you want. Now, please go away,” I managed.

Amara turned and started to walk off.

She took a few steps, then turned around, and said, “Yes, I worked for a private detective agency. I wasn’t supposed to have sex with you. The deal was to gain information on you while you traveled. Your wife’s company paid for it. Apparently, your wife was being considered for a highly placed position.”

Amara let her words sink in, then said, “I saw you sitting there and I thought it was only fair that you should know.”

I didn’t say anything but sat there with my unfinished sandwich and watched her leave. I stood up, cleared off the table, tossed my food into the trash receptacle, and went home. What else could I do?