When I Had My First One-Night Stand Since My Wedding Night Years Ago

I've been married for ten years now. We moved into a new house recently and my wife has been working overtime, leaving me alone at home most nights. It's not that she doesn't want to connect with me; it’s just hard when we both have demanding schedules. Last week, I found myself at a bar near our place, drowning my sorrows in loneliness rather than work stress. A woman approached me, someone who had been eyeing me from across the room for hours. We talked and laughed until closing time, her company easing my sadness without even trying. She invited me back to her place after we parted ways at the bar. I hesitated, but a part of me felt like it was just for tonight. Maybe it's because my marriage hasn't been as lively or spontaneous lately due to our responsibilities. This moment offered an unexpected escape from reality and allowed us to indulge in something we both craved: freedom. The physicality that night was electric. She was uninhibited, eager, her body responsive every time I touched her. Her hands moved down my chest, her fingers teasingly tracing over the contours of my skin. As our mouths fused together, my heart pounded with a mix of excitement and guilt. The sensations were intense; she pulled me closer by my belt loops, grinding against me as I held onto her hips. She guided me into her bedroom, lying back on the bed and pulling me down beside her. The moment we were face-to-face again, our tongues tangled in a heated dance that left both of us breathless. Her legs parted for me, inviting me to touch every part of her body she wanted explored. I entered her slick heat, moving slowly at first before finding the pace we both needed. The experience was exhilarating and liberating; it felt like a fleeting moment of freedom from the usual routine and responsibilities of my married life. But as dawn approached, so did the weight of reality, my wife’s face in my mind's eye replaced by her image, guilt washing over me. I left that morning, more than just physically exhausted. My conscience wouldn't let go of the feeling that I had crossed a line, even if it was consensual and fleeting. How do you reconcile such an action with your long-term commitments? Am I still the asshole for seeking this out despite knowing better?