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hers—that he would prove a little too seductive for her with the implied suggestion that being with him instead of me might help her career—and the next moment hoping desperately that some spark might ignite between the two, with Hayley coming back to me with a confession about some small indiscretion, and even a request to take her new relationship a little further.
    I found myself going online, suddenly concerned that I might be displaying symptoms of some kind of mental illness, which might end up ruining my marriage. And naturally the way the Internet works, my searches tended to bring up pornography, or erotic literature, which only strengthened the strange desire I was experiencing for my wife to sleep with another man. After a little more investigation, I was actually reassured that there had to be a significant number of other men out there with the fantasy of seeing their wives breaking their marital vows.
    I also found true-life stories of men who had allowed their wives to see other people, which both opened my eyes to how powerful an experience it could be, as well as to the warnings of this wife-sharing fetish getting out of control, and leading to the end of marriages.
    When Hayley came home to report that nothing had happened, that her date had been “a complete gentleman”, I had felt disappointment. But she did reveal that her co-star seemed under the impression that she was attempting to seduce him—and that he was obviously open to such an approach, though he was reluctant to make a fool out of himself.
    “He suggested dinner again on Thursday night,” she said, and the flames of hope reignited inside me.
    “That’s great!”
    “I feel like a bit of a fraud.”
    “Why? It’s just a date, he knows it doesn’t guarantee anything.”
    She shrugged. “I’m stringing him along, though, aren’t I?”
    “You’re an actress working on her craft. It’s no worse than method acting.”
    Thursday night came, and I waited dutifully for her at home, wondering if I ought to have gone out to try to check up on her, to monitor her dinner with Aaron Simpson, to see for myself how it was going. I’m sure Hayley would have told me where they were going if I’d asked. Yet at the same time, I didn’t want to appear creepy. I wanted her to see the act of dating another guy as being nothing too extraordinary.
    I waited, and reflected on the danger that this odd fantasy of mine might push Hayley to do something she didn’t really want to do, and damage our bond in the process. So I let it go, I didn’t press her. She came home feeling quietly pleased with herself, telling me that once again, it had been a nice dinner, but the flirting had remained courteous, the two of them aware they had to work with each other closely, both wary of doing anything to spoil things.
    “But I do think he thinks I’m just desperate to sleep with him,” she grinned mischievously. “That maybe when the movie is finally in the can, something might actually happen.”
    “Well that’s probably a good thing, right?”
    “Uh-huh,” she said, and I could see in her eyes a little glimmer of excitement that she was obviously able to attract such a man as Aaron Simpson. That excitement had the knock-on effect of stirring me, too.
     
     
    *
     
     
    A few days later, Hayley texted me from the movie set to ask if it was okay for her to go on another date with Aaron, and that set me buzzing. Once again, it was the word ‘date’ that set my heart rate racing. She wasn’t just hanging out with her co-star, checking out some hot new restaurant somewhere—she was dating him.
    I spent another strange evening on my own, waiting for her to come back to me, wondering if she might stay out all night.
    She came home after midnight, buzzing and tipsy.
    “There was somebody from the New York Times on set!” she said, out of breath despite having taken a taxi back home.
    She jumped on me as I lay on the bed, and kissed me