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I existed to make dinner for the kids and provide an open ear when he needed to vent.
After 15 years — six of which involved intensive marriage counseling — I finally decided to walk away.
On that second date, John and I decided to give the sugar daddy-sugar baby thing a go.
(Or, "cougar baby," I guess it's called, since I'm older than him.) I told him what my car payment, rent and living expenses were, and he agreed to give me ,500 a month in cash. We were on the same page from the start, which made things easy.
I wasn't really sure how to read him, and I'm usually pretty good at that.
After some brief small-talk (you know, the typical what-are-your-hobbies-what-are-you-looking-for chitchat), we set up a coffee date.
I knew they weren't ever going to meet him, so I didn't feel the need to tell him right off the bat.
After accepting, I was relieved when he pulled up sporting more casual clothes this time.
Three sips into his first cup, he began opening up about his personal life.
He'd laid all his cards on the table, and I was either in or out.
Oddly enough, he never asked if I had children and I don't remember ever bringing mine up.
That kind of relationship didn't go with my moral standards. After a fluke first marriage at 27, I met the successful, headstrong man I was taught to believe every woman wants.