I spend most of my time at work in a one-piece bathing suit blowing bubbles with four-year-olds and occasionally getting sneezed on. I have been teaching swimming for over six years to supplement the minor income I earn from writing. Teaching swimming has never been a source of inspiration for my writing until recently: it seems that my granny-like one piece has caught the eye of one of my clients. The only problem (well, problems) is that he is married, twice my age and I also give his wife private swimming lessons.
We first met in one of my classically cute “Baby and Me” early morning swim lessons. He came with his nine-month-old daughter and his wife, who was excitedly videotaping from the side. They seemed like the model couple: cute kid, always smiling and eager to help one another. I’m a very cynical chick who believes that most married couples are unhappy, but these people even had me fooled.
After one particular lesson, Mr. Married asked me if I could train him for a triathlon he was planning to do later in the year. Yeah, I thought it was an unusual request — but hell, I needed the money. We started meeting on Friday afternoons for the private training sessions.
This guy couldn’t wait to pounce. By the end of the second lesson, he asked me to go have drinks with him sometime. Wide-eyed, I tried to laugh it off and pretended as if he was just being “friendly.” In no time, his friendliness turned creepy. He started to text me constantly, begging me to go to dinner with him. Finally, I decided to put my foot down. I’d had enough of his crap!
I told him we’d meet for lunch. My plan was to shame him by calling him a bad father/husband and then threaten to expose him with the text messages he had been sending me.
Instead, we sat around, chatted and sipped sangria at a great Cuban restaurant. It turns out I didn’t have the balls to confront him.
Things only got stranger after that. Two days after our “lunch date,” his wife contacted me asking for lessons because she wanted to get back in shape. I agreed. Now I train Mr. Married every Friday and Mrs. Married on Thursdays. Awwwk-ward. Every week, he uses a new tactic to get me to go out with him again and she expresses her deepest love and commitment to him.
I am definitely swimming in the Bermuda Triangle. As a woman, I feel obligated to tell her that he is a scumbag, but I am also afraid that she’ll be angry and blame me. (I am no fighter and prefer to keep all of my teeth.) I would want to know if my guy wasn’t being true to me, but lots of women tend to blame “the other woman” in situations like these.
If you were in my situation, would you tell Mrs. Married?