He Might Be an Asshole, But He’s My Asshole

Juda was the brother of the CEO of the company I worked for. Physically, he was good-looking, but mentally, he was a match. He did something my man had forgotten to do with me: he listened carefully and always had the right answer. The first time he asked me for coffee, I said no. I only allowed myself to talk with him when I ran into him by chance in the building, at the coffee machine, or on the stairs. One day, we had lunch with a client. After the client left, we stayed at the restaurant and talked for hours. Can I call that our first date? After that, I accepted the coffee, and one day, I brought him one. At home, I stopped paying attention to my man’s immaturity. As Juda advised, I did what I had to do for our son, and that’s it. I didn’t have the energy to argue with my man anymore. I managed our son’s care with the nanny, and with some friends on weekends when I needed some space for myself. At that time, I never saw Juda outside the office, even though he asked me to dinner twice. I’m a big fan of Greek food, and he wanted to take me to a new restaurant that had just opened. One day, my husband told me that lately I seemed happier and more relaxed. Sure of himself, he said that if he weren’t so sure about himself and about us, he would have thought I had a lover. I pretended I hadn’t heard. I mean, is sharing my feelings, my worries, my secrets, my achievements, my exhaustion, cheating? Maybe my husband does the same with his buddies. My best friend told me to end this relationship, because to her, it was cheating without sex, but still cheating. She asked me how I would feel if my husband were doing with another woman what I was doing. I answered that, unlike my husband, I’m there for him. I listen to him, I cuddle him, I support him, and I anticipate his needs. And what do I get in return? NOTHING. So if talking with Juda, whom I consider a friend, makes me feel good and is good for our couple, I don’t see the harm. Our romantic friendship lasted at least two months, until one day I asked him if we were still having lunch together, and he said no, he was having lunch with his girlfriend. Surprised, with clear disappointment in my voice, I said I didn’t know he had a girlfriend. He told me it was very recent; it had started two or three weeks before.