had deliberately chosen a nondescript restaurant, one nobody I knew ever went to, for my meet-up with a married man. He had texted, “Let’s go somewhere private.” I wasn’t wearing my wedding ring—I hadn’t since that day of the workshop on consensual non-monogamy. The man I was meeting was attractive—dark-haired and fit—and always attentive. He was smart and handsome and he made me laugh and sometimes I wondered what it would be like to be with someone like him.
