The Guy She's Dating is Slightly Married
“I brought white and red. Which shall we open first?” My college friend, Jen said as she strolled into my house grasping a bottle of wine in each hand.
Well, I was planning on faking a badger-themed emergency in thirty minutes so how about we save time by drinking from the bottle?
“White,” I said, following her to my kitchen.
“You’ve had a fun day,” Jen said, nodding to the paint-covered kitchen table.
I rolled my eyes and groaned at the mess my toddler had created. “Oh, yeah, it’s been magical.”
“That’s why I don’t want kids,” she said. “I like to keep my house clean.”
The last time I visited your house, your couch was covered in nail polish but ok.
She prattled on about her “asshole boss” while I pulled wine glasses from the cabinet and filled them generously with white wine.
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I grabbed one of the glasses and pulled it to my lips before gulping back half the glass.
Jen and I used to be close but we’ve drifted apart, mostly because she’s a knob. She is only interested in talking to me when she can show off. It’s usually a new job, a new look, or a new man. None of which last very long.
“Anyway,” Jen said, having finished the bitchfest about her boss who asked her not to take two-hour lunch breaks. “I’ve got some news,” she beamed.
Ugh. Maybe I could hide in the oven.
“Oh?” I said as I slid onto a barstool.
“I met someone!” She screeched.
Hopefully, he’s an inmate or shepherd so I’ll be somewhat entertained by this.
I smiled and raised my eyebrows. Before I could respond, she launched into listing his details.
“His name is Pete. Thirty-seven. He lives west of the city and he works in IT. We met on Tinder.”
I nodded, waiting for her to share the fuckstorm.
“Sounds great. How long have you been seeing him?” I asked.
She planted her elbows on the countertop, moving her face closer to mine. “We’ve been on five dates. This is it, I just know,” she giggled.
I’m going to need cheese to listen to the rest of this.
Rising from my stool, I moved around the peninsula and buried my face in the refrigerator as she listed his favorite ice cream flavor, movie, and color.
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Which was brown. Fucking brown.
“Pour me some more wine, would you?” Jen asked.
I pulled my head out of the refrigerator and glanced at her glass. My nose crinkled at finding it empty.
“So, he’s really sweet, really kind. He holds doors for me,” she trailed off as she moved to my paint-stained table and took a chair. “And he helps me with all my problems.”
Like how to remove nail polish from your furniture? Did he offer to scribble over it in brown crayon?
“Mmmhmm,” I said with a mouthful of cheese, following her with the wine bottle and glasses.
“He’s great with his kids too,” she added as she snatched the wine bottle from my hand.
“He’s got kids? You met them already?” I asked, horrified.
“No, I didn’t meet them!” She said loudly as she emptied the bottle of wine into her glass. “He tells me about all the stuff he does with them, like taking them to the park and stuff.”
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Oh, like every other parent? What a hero.
“So, what’s the situation with the kid’s mother?” I asked as I took the seat next to her.
“Well, they’re still married. But they’re separated so he’s only like a little bit married,” she said nonchalantly.
Yeah, that’s how it works.
I folded my arms and tried to keep my face expressionless.
“Fair enough. Have they been living separately for a while?” I asked, wondering if I could eat more cheese without offering her any.
Jen threw back another large mouthful of wine and then laughed.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
“They sort of live together,” she said, still laughing.
And here’s the fuckstorm.
I frowned.
Jen, noticing my facial expression, quickly elaborated. “They are definitely separated. They’re just waiting until their house sells to get separate places.”
So for now it’s just pillows down the center of the bed?
“Is their house up for sale?” I asked in the most normal tone I could muster.
“Mmm, not yet,” she said into her wine glass.
Ahh. Fantastic.
“But Pete says it will be soon. They’re getting divorced and getting their own places in the next six months, he says.”
“Have they filed for divorce?” I asked.
“Not yet,” she said. “But he’s going to do it.”
And I’m going to transform into a unicorn and spike you.
“Do you need an intervention?” I asked.
“Shut up. It’s not what you think,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He takes me on really nice dates. We went to that new spa, we went hiking, and we went to the beach.”
“So, all your dates have been out of the city?” I asked.
“Erm….yeah, yeah they have.”
“Where his wife and their friends won’t see you?” I asked, scrunching up my nose.
She laughed. “They’re not still together. I’m really happy,” she said, smiling.
Well, that’s alright then.
Forget about the kids who might find out Daddy is boning a titslap at the spa.
Jen emptied her wine glass and fetched the bottle of red from the countertop. I stared at the wall, hoping for a gust of wind to toss her into the night.
“I’m going to miss him this weekend. He has to work,” she whined as she fell back into her chair.
Is there super important computer shit going down?
I shrugged and said, “It’s probably his wedding anniversary.”
She left soon after that.
Are you looking for the perfect partner or thinking of stepping back into the dating world with confidence after your 40s or 50s? Look no further! Mature Dating is your ultimate guide, packed with tips and strategies to overcome age-related challenges and build a meaningful and lasting relationship.