A look into the minds of ten men who cheated on their significant others.
Why Do Men Cheat?
This book consists of ten true stories about men who cheated as told by the men themselves. It's an honest look into the mindset of men's thinking on relationships and cheating. Not only does it inform the reader how these men ended up finding their other women, it's also entertaining reading. The ten short srories average 11 pages each.
I watched as Sophia disappeared from view. I could have simply allowed her to walk out of my life forever, and I should have. Something was drawing me to her. Admittedly, it didn't hurt that she was beautiful, but there are many pretty faces here in Key West. It was more than that, but I couldn't quite figure out what.
The following afternoon, I went to Sophia's store. She wasn't there. I looked around a few moments and left.
I returned the next day and didn't see her then, either. As I was leaving, I spotted Sophia on the sidewalk coming around the corner. I casually walked back into the store and waited for her to enter. I seated myself in one of the hammocks. She noticed me sitting there.
“Oh, hello. Ah, I'm really sorry, what was your name again?”
“It was Kevin. Still is, I think.”
“I'm so bad at names. But I rarely forget a face. Especially one as distinguished as yours.”
“Thank you, Sophia.”
“I see your memory is better than mine.”
“Not really. Just more selective. You see, I make it a point to remember the names of people who impress me.”
“Wow. How did I do that?”
“Well, I - last night - I don't know, Sophia, you just did. I was hoping - maybe I shouldn't even say - that we could, you know, have dinner together, I mean - if you don't already have plans with your boyfriend.”
“I don't have a boyfriend, and yes, if you're willing to wait about an hour, I'll have dinner with you.”
“Really? That'd be great. OK, then, I'll come by in an hour.”
“You sound surprised.”
I attempted to play down the excitement, but I don't think I succeeded. Funny thing is, I'm pretty confident in any other venue, but tonight Sophia just caught me off guard. I felt a similar nervousness as I did back in high school when I asked a girl for a date the first time. Maybe it was because I'm married and I shouldn't be doing this, or perhaps it was because I felt she was out of my league. I really didn't know, and frankly, for the next few days, I didn't care. Traveling alone is the pits, and any time I can make a friend to pass the time, male or female, it makes life more interesting.
An hour later, I returned to Sophia's store. We both decided we would go back to the Italian bistro, but this time we would share a table. It was Friday night and we didn't have a reservation. After a twenty minute wait, we ended up at the same table I had been dining when I met her two nights before. A musician was strolling the restaurant playing the mandolin. After a few moments, he approached our table.
“Whatta can I play for you lovva birds,” he asked with a thick Italian accent.”
“Oh, we're not -”
“I canna see it inna your eyes, senioré,” he insisted.
Sophia looked at me as he said that.
“Why don't you pick one, Sophia?”
“Sophia,” he said. “Such a nicca Italian name. You from Italy?”
“My parents are.”
“Letta me play you one a my favorites.”
He played 'An Evening in Roma'. As we watched him play, we glanced nervously at each other, smiling from time to time. On one hand it was awkward. On the other, it was innocently romantic. By now, I am certain Sophia had seen my gold band, but it did not seem to have an adverse effect on our conversation. I could sense she was enjoying the romantic undertones as much as I was, presumably because she knew I'd be gone in a few days. A married man dining with a woman, as far as I know, is not an act of wrong doing.
The song ended. I thanked the musician and gave him a sizable tip. Sophia and I continued talking and laughing the rest of the evening. When it was time to leave, I asked if I should walk her back to the store, or perhaps somewhere else. She lived only a few blocks in the opposite direction, so she chose to have me walk her home.
Sophia lived in a charming little blue cottage, one with the quintessential Key West style you probably see emulated in towns all around other parts of Florida. It was a tiny cottage, too small for a family, and tight even for two.
“Such a charming place,” I told her. “For such a charming lady.”
“Thank you. Would you like to see the inside?”
“I would, if it's OK with you.”
“You don't look like a dangerous man.”
We walked inside, and her decorative touches more than complemented the exterior charm of the cottage. Truly she was an exceptional woman. I looked around to see if there were signs of a man living here, but did not observe any such clues. Sophia poured two glasses of wine, offering me one.
“To friendship,” she toasted.
“Let me show you some of my designs.”
Sophia went into the other room and came out with a photo book. She placed it on the coffee table. We sat sipping wine as she thumbed through the book to show me her favorite designs of wooden structures for the hammocks in her store.
“You made these?”
“Incredible. Where'd you learn this?”
“My father was a master craftsman. He taught me when I was a little girl.”
“It's just amazing to see such old world craftsmanship handed down from generation to generation. I wish the world was more like this.”
“I do, too.”
Sophia continued to pour the wine, consuming it much faster than I did. Nearly an hour went by as we drank and laughed sitting on her sofa. Finally, I decided to take the risk. Either she would be accepting of my action, or she would ask me to leave. I had nothing to lose, as I would never see her after a few more days here anyway.
I leaned over and put one arm around her shoulders. I held her loosely, nudging her closer to me. Neither of us said a word. I felt very at ease with her. As we released our loose bond, she wiped a tear from her eye.
“What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, quite the opposite.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you know how long it's been since someone held me like that?”
“Months. Maybe even a year.”
“Oh, I find that hard to believe. What man can resist?”
“They try, but I don't feel right about most men.”
“Why me, then?”
“You're a gentleman with a tender heart and a sensitive soul. I don't see that much here anymore.”
“I swear, if I was single -”
“- If you were single, we'd be in the other room right now.”
“Maybe I had better leave before I get myself into trouble.”
“I'm sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.”
“Will I ever see you again?”
“I'll be here a few more days.”
Sophia and I kissed good night. It felt wonderful to hold her. Too wonderful. I knew if I didn't leave then and there, I'd be in trouble. I wondered if she could feel my firmness against her body as we hugged and said goodbye.
All night and all the next day, all I could think about was Sophia. Right or wrong, the feelings were there. I guessed in time they would go away, much as the feelings for other girls I had known before I was married had all become vague memories.
After work that afternoon, I walked by Sophia's store. I debated going in, but she spotted me in the window and came running out to see me.
“I'm so glad you came back. Do you have time tonight?”
“Oh, about twelve hours of it. Twelve more in the daylight, too.”
Sophia chuckled. We did get together that night, and again the following day. Sophia showed me parts of the Keys I would have never discovered on my own. We went on a romantic sunset cruise around Key West, followed by a buggy ride through the town that slowly drove us past the well lit shops along the main street.
Later that evening, we once again found ourselves sharing a bottle of wine while sitting on her sofa. We both drank perhaps a little more than we should have. Maybe it was the bits of familiarity from our previous days together, maybe it was the wine, but tonight I found her supple bronze body irresistible.