AITA for yelling at my wife?

My (45M) love language is physical intimacy. My wife (42F) knew this when we met 20 years ago, she knew this when we got married 5 years later, and she's known this even as our sex live has spiraled down the drain over our 15 years of marriage. We've gone to counseling and everything, and even though things have improved here and there, I'm always the one initiating it, and if I'm lucky, we have sex once a week, but it's usually once every 3 or 4 weeks. She does try, but I feel like I"m fighting with excuses of "I'm tired" or "I have a headache" constantly. I've told her that sex is a physical need and an important part of a marriage, but she doesn't seem to share those feelings. Maybe I'm partially an AH/idiot for not stressing this enough at the start of our relationship, IDK.

Anyways, cut to about 5 months ago, and my wife gets a call from her family across the country that her dad's health is taking a turn for the worse (I don't remember the specifics, but it's a somewhat rare disease). She booked a flight as soon as she could, and three days later her dad passed away. Of course, I understood her grief, and told her to take time with her family, help get affairs in order, all that stuff, and I would see her soon. "Soon" went from two weeks to a month to two months. We kept in touch, but she kept telling me about things that came coming up (difficulty selling the house, problems with the will, a fight with her stepsiblings). During one of our talks, she asked how I was, and again, like an AH, I muttered something about missing her physically. She got quiet for a bit, then reminded me that she had important family things to worry about and that even if she was with me, she wouldn't be in the right "headspace" (her words)" for sex. I spat out a hasty apology and hung up soon after.

At around the 3 month mark, I was losing it; masturbation wasn't doing it for me anymore, and I knew deep down why. I went to a bar one night, hoping that alcohol would help push these urges away or something. There, I met a coworker (38F) out celebrating something or other with some friends. I said hi and offered to buy them a round of drinks; IDK, I was feeling generous or something. She broke off from her group after a while and chatted with me, and like a blubbering fool, I spilled almost everything that was eating me up: how I missed my wife, how I missed having sex, how I wish we were still in our "honeymoon phase" when we were doing it almost every night. She patted my hand comfortingly and told me things would get better. I smiled, then said I'd better get home. After I paid my tab, she came up to me and slipped me a piece of paper with her number on it, then joined her friends again.

I called her the next day and invited her over to my place. We had sex multiple times over the course of the night. After our last session, we promised not to tell anyone else about what happened, but she said she enjoyed it and offered to keep coming over to keep me company. We kept sleeping together for the next seven weeks or so.

A week after I last saw my coworker, my wife came home unexpectedly. I was genuinely happy to see her and hugged her tightly in my arms; it felt so good to finally be with her again. I helped her bring her suitcase to the bedroom while she told me about some things she didn't mention over our talks, but in the middle of one of her stories, she stopped, shrieked "what is THIS?" and picked up an empty condom wrapper I must have missed from the last week. I felt myself get clammy, and quickly I lied, saying I wanted to masturbate with one on just to see how it felt. I guess she didn't buy it, though, because she screamed "Did you FUCK someone else in our house?" I'll admit it, I got super upset, so I slammed down the lid of her suitcase and yelled back "It's not like anyone ELSE was fucking me!" We got into it, her retorting that she was away dealing with her deceased dad, me bringing up the 15 years of dead bedroom. After what felt like an hour she grabbed some things and stormed out of the house. She called me a few minutes later, telling me she was going to check into a hotel and then start filing for divorce the next day. I told her she was making a mountain out of a molehill, but she hung up on me.

So, AITA?