It was late June, nine years ago, as I stood in the doorway to George's apartment. George was my wife's Black, retired bodybuilder, and lover, and he had just scooped her up in his arms to head back to his bedroom. Anne, my wife, laughed and motioned for me to return with them as George put her down in front of the bedroom door. I closed his front door and then hustled down the hallway. Once in the bedroom, I could see th...

When my wife departed from our evening of debauchery at Alex's house, my wife, Anne, had joked about getting together with Alex again in a few days, targeting the ensuing Thursday night. After returning home, my wife and I spent the remainder of the weekend preparing for a summer of camps for our boys, along with finalizing arrangements for our summer vacation in a couple of months. When Thursday rolled around, it felt li...

As I sat downstairs contemplating Anne's new relationships, along with our acknowledgment that our little game would have to end soon, I realized how lucky we had been. Then, we had a marriage rich with companionship and love, and two wonderful boys who were an unending source of laughter and adventure. Anne was always great at compartmentalizing, balancing her love and devotion to our evolving family, with her strong des...