It all took only a few minutes to plop the clothing on the counter and get the claim check with which I would return tomorrow to pick up the clothes. I knew that by tomorrow night, the shop would be packed with men picking up their suits and women checking their dresses to make sure the stains were out.

Every week I would go to the same shop and drop off my husband’s and my laundry. We had entirely too many shirts that required dry cleaning; but as two men working in professional capacities, I knew this was a necessary evil.

Richard and I had been married for over eight years. I had been faithful for that entire time, even though poor Richard in the beginning of our relationship couldn’t keep his pants on. He had, however, chosen to have a different life now. I trusted him completely and knew internally he was maintaining his fidelity. Quite frankly, I never imagined it would be me that set our vows aside. I never thought I would be vulnerable to betraying my beloved husband.

As I turned to leave the dry cleaners, I ran right into what I considered a giant of a man. Honestly, I’m only 5’ 5” tall, so nearly every other man is a giant to me; but, this man was at least 6’ 5” tall, a full foot taller than me. Add to that the fact that he looked like a solid mass of well-worked muscle and I was overwhelmed by his visage. As I bent down to help him pick up the bags of clothing he dropped in our collision, I apologized profusely for not paying more attention. His emerald green eyes sparkled with the golden flecks as he graciously accepted my apologies. He said that at least he was dropping off the clothing and not just picking them up. We both laughed.

As he stood up to his full height, I realized I was barely breathing. He looked strongly familiar to me, but I didn’t want to say anything for fear of being misinterpreted. His raven black hair and green eyes, perfectly smooth, olive complexion and elegant suit made me feel like the unfortunate half of the group on “Beauty and the Geek.” The truth is I am handsome. I knew that and was often told so by men. I was especially pleased that I had aged as well as I did for being nearly 50 years old. My still naturally black hair, tan, smooth complexion and caramel brown eyes kept me very young looking.

“Please, let me pay for one of your shirts to make up for my clumsiness,” I suggested. He laughed the kindest laugh and said that certainly would not be necessary.

“If you really feel bad about this,” he said, “why don’t you buy me a cup of coffee at the café next door?”

“You’re on!” I eagerly agreed.

“I’m Matthew,” he said, after dropping off his clothing and shaking my hand.

“Ted.” I responded, smiling stupidly.

Matthew chuckled and gently disconnected from our overly-extended hand shake. We began talking like old friends as we walked to the café. He told me all about his work and I told him about my life, including the fact that I am married. I wasn’t sure if it was a genuine response I