This past Sunday my lover and I went to a country pub and I glanced in the dining room and saw my husband with a beautiful older woman, but not just any woman.
It was my mother and, from the way they looked at each other and were touching, I could tell instantly that it was more than a friendly lunch; they were quite obviously in love with each other.
And your mother chooses the one man in the universe who is married to her daughter?
That is some unfathomable shitheadery right there, from both of them. I don’t believe that there is romantic love that is somehow divorced from the choices you make about what to do about your feelings.
I have sneaked in the house and gone up to what used to be our bedroom and found my mother has moved all her clothes into the wardrobe and taken what I had left out and I have even seen a tube of lube on the bedside table (my mother is post menopausal).
My husband, who is also handsome and fit, looked like he was happier than I had ever seen him.
Obviously the ick factor of a your husband having an affair with his wife’s mother is high.