Her Side: The Affair
This is part twenty-eight of my story of recovering from my wife’s affair and rebuilding our marriage. If you haven’t already, please start at the beginning with part one.
There wasn’t much that surprised me in the first part of what she wrote. I knew she had been dealing with those issues — I wasn’t completely aware at the time she was feeling them, but over the course of our recovery process we had discussed them all many times. I don’t remember everything the way she does, but it’s not because we differ on the facts. The memories that weighed on her were the times I got angry and said hurtful things. I, on the other hand, remembered the times I supported her and expressed my love to her. And I felt like she was failing me, as she rarely expressed love or affection for me.
Poor communication between us is why we never fully realized how the other one felt, in our old relationship. I knew we had some problems, but I didn’t know how to solve them at the time, and I didn’t think they were a big deal. Our relationship generally felt “pretty good” to me, and my wife didn’t indicate clearly to me that she disagreed.
I did try, especially over the last couple of years immediately before her affair, to do more. I didn’t tell her I was doing it, but I tried to support her more as a mother, back her up, and boost her self-esteem. With where she was, she didn’t notice my efforts. For her, it was too little, too late.
The messages from my old boyfriend started out very innocently and pretty spread out, maybe one or two a month. “Did you see the baseball game last night?” “Wasn’t that play amazing?” There was one time when he took the conversation to a personal level by saying he regretted splitting up with me and that he hated the life he now lived. I shut him down. I told him not to say that because I had no regrets. Yeah, I wasn’t living my dream life but if things had gone differently, I wouldn’t have the kids and extended family I had. He agreed, and that was the end of it for a while.
In the summer of 2021, he started reaching out to me more often. And at that point, I was receptive to the communication. It continued innocently enough with most talk about baseball, his mom and dad (both of whom were going through major health issues), old times. I didn’t tell my husband that I was talking to him because I knew he wouldn’t like it but it was innocent at that time — other than the fact that I shouldn’t have been talking to him in secret.
In late summer, my old boyfriend started talking about how we should meet for dinner or drinks to catch up on old times and for him to explain why he had broken up with me so abruptly when we were 21. I knew that was wrong and kept saying no and that it was inappropriate for him to ask that. He would back down and the occasional chats returned to baseball and family. But he continued pressing on that issue.
By that point, my husband and I had grown so far apart that we were basically just roommates. We never talked beyond the basic details of life with three teens and two dogs. Intimacy was good physically but there was no emotion involved at all. I know I’m not innocent in our growing apart but it honestly seemed like my husband didn’t like me. He often corrected me when I addressed the kids; when we were out, he would frequently tell me that I was embarrassing him; he often told me that I should wear more make-up (and by more, he meant any as I’m not a girly-girl); and we continued to fight about money. I remember one time we got into a spectacular argument about a box sign I had shown him. I didn’t want to buy it but thought the sentiment was funny. It was something about a mom losing her shit. When I showed him, he immediately went off about how trashy it was and how he couldn’t believe I liked something like that and how only terrible, trashy people would like it. I stopped sharing things I liked with him.
Imagine how things like that made me feel. I don’t want to sound like I’m blaming my husband for my actions because that is all on me. But after years of feeling like my own husband didn’t like me, it was really gratifying to have someone tell me how amazing I was.
My husband’s parents divorced when he was young and his parents each went on to marry multiple times. I often thought that he didn’t really care who he was married to, just that he was married and didn’t live the life he saw his parents live. I had decided that I was miserable, that he didn’t like me but wouldn’t admit it, and that we would both be happier apart. I had mentally decided that, when our daughter graduated from high school in the spring of 2022, that I was going to ask for a divorce. I knew he would be hurt but, again, I thought it was more that he would be upset about his marriage ending, not his marriage to me.
Having made that mental decision, when my old flame kept pushing me to meet for drinks, I finally agreed to consider it. I didn’t commit but said I would think about it. He kept pushing for a date but I kept putting him off. My husband and I were scheduled to go on a cruise in November of that year and I finally told my old boyfriend that we would set a date to meet after I got back from the cruise.
My husband and I went on the cruise and had a good time. It was like traveling with a friend — but one with benefits. We had a great cabin with a balcony, on the cruise line’s newest, largest ship, and we did all kinds of fun and amazing things! My husband went out of his way to do some things that he wouldn’t normally do, like scheduling some physically demanding excursions he knew I would enjoy. Seems like the trip of a lifetime but I still didn’t feel connected to him. He says now that he spent that cruise trying to reconnect with me and is upset that I didn’t recognize his efforts, but I’ve told him that it was because we were so disconnected. I still didn’t think he even liked me so why would he want to reconnect? I’ve told him that he should have just told me that he wanted to try to reconnect, but he asked if I would have been receptive to it. Honestly, at that point, I don’t know if I would have or not.
When we got home from the cruise, things returned to normal. We spent our days and evenings in the same house but apart — working in different offices, doing different things in the evenings, etc. In addition to not being happy, I was scared that we would turn into my parents. They’ve been married 40-something years but I don’t want to be them when I’m old. I don’t want to sit in the house watching Fox News and westerns, never going anywhere except the grocery store and doctor’s appointments and, even then, going together. And when they are separated from one another for any amount of time, all they do is complain about the other. I didn’t want that for my old age. And that’s what I envisioned for my future with my husband.
When my old boyfriend reached out again and asked me to choose a date to meet up, I did. As I was preparing to meet him that evening, I wanted to look my absolute best and make him regret what he had done all those years ago. But, even now, looking back, I don’t know that I went into that evening knowing that I was going to have an affair. I was open to the idea but hadn’t decided for sure.
When we saw one another that evening, it was like no time had passed. We started talking like we had just seen one another the day before. There was no pressure to act or talk a certain way for fear of embarrassing him, he told me repeatedly how great I looked, and we talked for hours. Of course, talk covered our respective spouses and kids. He told me how impressed he was that I was the primary breadwinner, holding down a stressful job and volunteering all of my spare time to the kids’ school. He said that his wife hadn’t worked a day since their first child was born twenty-one years before, not even when he told her she needed to return to work when their youngest child started school. She refused, and that was that. I knew, from social media over the years, what a lavish lifestyle she lived — expensive cars and high-end handbags, beach trips five or six times a year, the best name-brand clothes for their four kids, etc. And she had all of that without lifting a finger! While I was working my ass off at a job I hated and didn’t reap any of the benefits of my job — in my eyes, at least. I had to ask before buying clothes, I didn’t have a car of my own (my husband and I both work from home so we share a car), and so on. When I pointed out that I hated my job but had to do it because my husband didn’t earn the kind of salary and benefits for a family of five, my old flame continued to praise me and kept saying what a mistake he had made when he split up with me. After feeling so unappreciated and unliked for so long, this was so great to hear. Finally, someone recognized my efforts and achievements. Our conversation moved from the restaurant, to the hotel bar, to a hotel room.
After that one night together, we didn’t make any firm plans to meet again but did continue to talk — daily. He continued to sing my praises — how smart I was, how impressive it was that I worked so hard — and kept telling me what he would do for me if we were together — he would buy me the car I wanted, we could travel, whatever. I could talk to him about anything without being told that I was being trashy, selfish, or any of the other things that my husband had repeatedly said to me over the years. Most of the things my affair partner promised me were monetary things, sure, but for me, that was what I felt like I deserved after the years of not having those things.
When we talked, our families continued to come up in conversation. He told me how unhappy his marriage was and that he had been considering divorce for several years. I told him that my marriage wasn’t terrible, it was just there, but that I had been telling myself secretly that I was going to ask for a divorce when my youngest child graduated high school. He talked about a fantasy land where we would both get divorced and be together forever but that’s all it was — a fantasy. He even said a couple of times that his marriage was so unhappy that he was never going to get married again. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to leave one marriage just to jump straight into another one so I was good with that. I did tell him too, though, that if he was as miserable as he sounded, that he should go ahead and get a divorce regardless of what happened with us. I didn’t commit to any future with him, but didn’t ever say that out loud and, looking back, I realize that I was stringing him along. Honestly, many of our phone calls were about how unhappy he was.
My affair partner asked me what I thought my husband would think and feel about all that was going on and I answered the way I thought — that he would be insulted that I was cheating on him, upset because his marriage was ending but that he would be secretly relieved that he was free from me, the person who embarrassed him, was a selfish, terrible person, a horrible mother, unpleasant to be around. I knew what we were doing was wrong on a basic level but, since I didn’t think my husband would really care, I convinced myself that it was okay. And selfishly, I was getting the recognition and praise that I had been missing for so very long.
This continued on for a while with me talking to him at every opportunity. Did I feel guilt? Of course, but I kept telling myself that my husband wouldn’t care. But because I knew what I was doing was morally wrong, along with the lying and sneaking around, it was impacting my physical health. I had more frequent headaches, stomach upset, was eating antacids like they were candy. But that physical discomfort wasn’t enough to make me give up the emotional high I was getting from my affair partner.
A few weeks in, I slipped up and my husband realized what was going on.
