Husband shares wife with a Manbun dude

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And now he lives with my husband, my children, and me.

To say that I didn't mean for this to happen doesn't begin to express the disappointment I felt in myself when it did. I had been married (technically, I still am, because divorce is expensive and living separately is unthinkably so) for 11 years, with two school-age children together and one I brought from a previous relationship.

I realize how cavalier I must sound. I'm 46. I shouldn't be behaving like this, right? I'm a mother. My pleasures, if they're not able to be harmlessly integrated into family life, should be set aside. What matters most (and here's the thing: I know this) is my children's happiness, safety, and security.

To make it worse, I met him at hip café — the only one of its kind in our town, and a gathering place for the small population of would-be beatniks and cheerful outsiders in an otherwise unremarkable suburb. He's 21 years my junior. And he had a manbun.

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This woman has no redeeming qualities. Even the 25 year old is just using her for sex.

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