I don't think my late parents cheated on one another, but I can't ask them anymore, can't say, But come tell me now this time for real, now that I'm old enough.

As far as I know, they didn't cheat. As far as I know, my mother never cried in a car on the way to her favorite restaurant, like a friend of a friend's mother, who I call the Lorax.

The Lorax's husband told her to get dressed up and pick out the place she wanted to go to, when he had not done so in months, and she spent her fifty-six-year-old day preparing her face, creaming her body, hooking a bra, and doing that thing that women do, touching a part of ourselves we imagine being touched later by a man.

In the car on the way to the favorite restaurant, the Tom Waits song "Shiver Me Timbers" came on.

"I'm leavin' my family / I'm leavin' all my friends / My body's at home / But my heart's in the wind."

Her husband said, Turn it off. Turn it off now.

She said Why, even though she already knew, it was up in cs go community market her throat like a horse vitamin. She said, If you are about to say something that's going to crush me, then don't take me to my favorite restaurant and do it to me over wine. Pull over, be a man, and do it now.

This story always upsets me. Not because I imagine my parents in these roles. But because I wonder what they'd think if they knew I've been the other woman.

I sat down to write this eighteen different ways. I thought, What does someone want to read about affairs? You've had one and you want to relate to something. You haven't had one but you fantasize about the girl with the keyhole shirt and the shoes your wife would call cheap. Her name starts with a C or a G. You know you and your partner will never have one, but you remember the time your wife, your husband, did not answer the phone for five car-accident hours.