I had no idea the day he darkened the door of my salon, that my life would turn all kinds of fifty shades of grey. My husband, Alec Batiste moved myself and our then five year-old twin daughters to St. Louis from St. Tammany Parish in Louisianna. According to Alec, a law professor at one of the countries most prominent universities, promised that making this move would allow our struggling relationship a chance to heal. In St. Tammaney Parish I was the “stepford wife”, staying home with the girls, attending society meetings, hosting holiday parties and baking cookies. The trophy wife of all sorts. Financially, I am and always have been comfortable. Alec sees to it that myself and the girls never want for anything and I love him for that but money isn’t everything.
The fire in our marriage burned out long before our move to the Gateway to the West but even the ashes had grown cold in recent months. Depsite the lack of intimacy and love I was devoted to my marriage and never wanted to betray the vows I made so many years ago. It was never my desire to fall in love with another man, but I did and it felt damn good.