Weekends became all about the Impala. Instead of trying to squeeze in time with Amanda, who was clearly not interested and would just make snide comments anyway, I'd spend entire Saturdays and Sundays in the garage. It was therapeutic, and I was making real progress on the restoration.
I also started hanging out with my buddies more. Troy, Chris, and Bruno had been asking me to join their poker nights for months, and I finally started going. Bruno, my Mexican best friend since high school, immediately called me out when I showed up to the first game looking like hell.
"Dude, you look like someone ran over your dog with your own truck," Bruno said, dealing cards. "What's Amanda got you doing now?"
When I explained the open marriage situation, Bruno nearly choked on his drink. "Wait, wait, wait. She basically said, 'I want to bang other guys, but keep you around for emotional support and mortgage payments,' and you said yes? Bro, you're either playing 4D chess or you've completely lost your mind."
Setting up the dating profiles was weird as hell. How do you write married guy looking for something casual without sounding like a complete creep? Turns out there are way more people interested in that setup than I expected. Apparently, Dallas is full of people who want connection without the commitment.
My first few dates were complete disasters. There was Emma, a yoga instructor who spent the entire dinner talking about her spiritual journey and chakra alignment. Then Victoria, who seemed normal until she started showing me photos of her three cats and explaining their personalities in disturbing detail.
But here's the thing. I wasn't just having fun. I was preparing my exit. My marriage is already over since Amanda asked to open it. So during that time, while she's enjoying this new experience, I got to work.
After that second train wreck of a date, I spent the next few days quietly moving money around. I opened a separate checking account and started having part of my paycheck deposited there. I made copies of all our financial documents, insurance policies, and property records. I also called my buddy Ryan, who'd gone through a nasty divorce two years earlier. He gave me the name of his lawyer and some advice: "Document everything, secure your assets, and don't tip your hand until you're ready to move."
Meanwhile, I kept up the dating charade. Amanda started going out more often, staying out later, and coming home with this glow I remembered from when we first started dating. Except now, it wasn't because of me.