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When I was studying for my part-time master’s degree programme at a local university, I met Robert*. He was a visiting professor from Australia, teaching psychology. I was captivated by Robert’s appearance when I first met him in the lecture theatre. He was at least six feet tall, smartly dressed and carried himself impeccably well. But it was his smile, with that row of snow white teeth, which really melted my heart.

After almost every lecture, I would approach him and ask him questions, so we could have the chance to talk. Eventually, we started talking about other things, and became close after a few lectures. I revealed some details about my life, but never mentioned that I was married. One day, when the lecture ended, Robert volunteered to send me home, and naturally, I was delighted.


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When we reached my flat, Robert offered to send me upstairs. This was when it happened. Once inside the lift, Robert took my hand, leaned in and kissed me softly on my lips. I had fantasised about this moment before, but had never expected this would happen in all my wildest dreams.

From that fateful day, my mind always lingered over Robert. Things went further when, on my birthday, I saw a note on my desk at work with a bouquet of flowers. I squealed in delight! My colleagues asked me who Robert was, and I lied and said he was a friend’s husband from overseas, whom I had helped to find an apartment here.

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“Please return call to Robert”, said the note. I quickly rang the number. Robert picked up the phone, and we arranged to meet for lunch. Robert took me to a fancy restaurant, and after that we headed straight to his apartment. We had sex then, and when it was over, I remembered thinking how lucky I was to have met him. I also felt guilty for cheating on my husband, but Robert was the man I was crazy about then.

After knowing Robert, my life became topsy-turvy. Over the next few months, I became the greatest liar on earth. My whole life was centered on two men, and I had to constantly tell lies to get away from one man and go meet the other. In order to meet Robert every day, I resorted to telling all kinds of lies to my husband to leave the house, and also had to lie to Robert in order to go home.

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One day, I sat down and did some serious thinking. I couldn’t go on like this forever. I had to come up with something good, or else it would just be a matter of time before my husband – or Robert – became suspicious of me.

Finally, I thought of a brilliant idea. I asked Robert to move next to my flat. I knew all Robert wanted was my company. When I saw a vacant room being advertised in the newspapers a few days later, I told Robert to grab it. After Robert had moved in and settled down comfortably, I would tell my husband that I had started to pick up jogging because I was getting a bit too fat. My husband believed me, and even bought me a pair of jogging shoes.

Almost every evening, I would go home at six on the dot. Once home, I would change into my running attire to go jogging. I seized this golden opportunity to jog all the way to Robert’s flat, where Robert would be there to receive me with open arms. An hour later, I got up and jogged home. My husband never suspected anything.

For the next few months, I stuck to my jogging “schedule”, regardless of the weather. I had become a “jogging freak”. I still ran even when it rained cats and dogs. I never had to lie to my husband. I didn’t have to “work overtime” at night anymore: I just “jogged”. I felt guilty of course, but I couldn’t help it.

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When Robert’s teaching contract finally ended, my heart was broken when he told me he was moving back to Australia. I didn’t have to jog anymore, and hung up my running shoes for good. My husband was puzzled, but guessed that I simply lost interest in jogging. Till this day I still think about Robert, but at least now I no longer need to feel guilty about my fake “sports routine”

*Names changed to protect privacy.

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