When My Affair Partner Said, “I’m Not Coming Over to Your Home.”
“There comes a time when you have to choose between turning the page and closing the book” ― Josh Jameson
A few of my Medium reader/writer friends in the community have asked when I would write my story. It is ironic to me that I’ve never formally done this. Some of you know that I never planned on writing on Medium. But then I read characterizations about people who cheat that I knew were narrow-minded and steeped in rigid preconceptions. I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Eighty stories later, I’d say I said my peace. And I have definitely written part of my story. The problem now is that a persistent nagging voice is telling me that my words could help someone trying to leave an affair. Because let’s face it, that is one of the most difficult journeys I had been on. Which no one can truly understand unless they’ve been there.
Let me back up on the statement “leaving an affair” for a moment. In writing about affairs on Medium, it has never been my goal to tell anyone what to do. I need to stand by my previous declarations that affairs are as diverse as marriages. Just like any relationship, no two are the same. Most affairs start out because of impulsivity. On the other hand, if you are in a long-term affair, you have already weighed the risks and consequences. It is not my place to tell you whether your decision is wrong or not because I don’t know the specifics of why your needs are not being met. And contrary to those societal distortions I was referring to earlier, affairs are not only about sex.
With that said, it is rare that I’ve ever met anyone who was ready for the emotional distraught of losing their affair partner. Betrayed spouses, I’m not disregarding your pain or humiliation. But as P.D. Reader once wrote as a response, “And I get it. People are shocked and hurt. But, as I’ve said in other pieces, I can’t write a long preface just for these people on every piece. It’s not my main topic here and this is long enough as it is.” I write to reach the cheater about the emotions that are not often addressed in other forums.
Which brings me back to a story I have not yet written about. How I finally left my affair.
Just a little background. My affair relationship went from 2013 to 2021. I’ve already written about why I had an affair. However, in 2019, my lover had a D-day. Leading up to the D-day, was our ridiculous and naïve idea that he would get his wife’s blessing to continue to see me. Yes of course Wise Reader, in hindsight, we were ridiculous. But that’s what happens when you fall hopelessly in love. You believe that your devotion to each other is like a superpower and you can accomplish anything. Oh wait, there is a third person in this relationship? Oh right, she has some say here. Wait? What? Does she have more say than me?
Yep.
From 2019 to 2021, we kept trying to make it work. But he was paranoid about another D-day and I was becoming more and more aware that I was losing him. I’m not going to lie, Gentle Reader, I lost my head. I spent those two years in a constant vicious cycle of desperation. I’d plot how to woo him only to callously dump him to date a single man. I’d insist on no contact and then confuse him by contacting him. I’d negotiate away what I really wanted and then lash out at him for accepting. I’d agree to platonic but then deliberately tease him with my manner of dress.
Yes, this is my confession but believe me, he was no saint. There were several occasions during those two years when his wife went out of town. He didn’t hesitate to try to make it work. But after an intense weekend together, she’d come back home and I wouldn’t hear from him. This was especially stinging because, before D-day, he would have never ceased contact.
During one of the weekends she was set to go away, he and I had been in constant communication the two weeks leading up to her trip. “How can we do this? How can we find a way to get back to each other?” was the constant theme. I kept telling him that my therapist talked about many relationships where married couples make unconventional arrangements. Ready for this one, Fascinated Reader? He went to therapy with me. It was his idea. He wanted to have the therapist help him come up with a plan on how to broach this subject with his wife. Yet as soon as he sat in front of my therapist he confessed that he could never tell his wife about me. WTF? Why were we there?
Because that was what we both did to each other. We couldn’t accept that it was over at the D-day.
July of 2021 was the last time I slept with him. During this time, I was trying to find it in myself if I would be able to handle dating him conveniently until I found someone else. As we lay in that hotel bed, he reminded me that he was going away for a week. I jokingly said that I “better not hear crickets”. A huge argument ensued because he didn’t believe I meant it in jest. It was a really really ugly fight. A few days later, after we both cooled down, we agreed to meet for lunch so that we wouldn’t hate each other’s guts.
Over lunch, he was shockingly contrite. Actually apologetic which is odd for him. He has a huge ego and doesn’t like to admit when he’s wrong. He was also extremely flirtatious. We agreed to see each other again when he got back from his week-long trip with his wife and another couple. The goal was to continue the warm feelings we both got from a conversation over a harmless meal out.
During his trip, he messaged me almost every day which I was not expecting. I assumed I wouldn’t hear from him until he came back into town. That was what our last two years had been like. He would never again risk getting caught. But these messages were confusing to me. One of his texts was that he had been thinking of me and right then he saw a shooting star in the sky. He asked me if that was a sign.
When he got back into town, he messaged me to meet for lunch on a Friday. That’s when it hit me that I had my home all to myself. I lived with my three adult children but that particular day no one was home.
This is a long story so I’ll just give the short end. To buy a house on my own was a huge accomplishment. My ex-husband received an inheritance while we were going through our divorce. He used his inheritance to get his lawyer to constantly pummel me. I was fighting against the most insane allegations and I quickly ran out of money. My legal fees cost 40K. I basically left my divorce with the clothes on my back.
I and my 17-year-old son were in a two-bedroom apartment. But once two of my adult children graduated college and it was the dreaded covid epidemic, they moved in with us. I needed to desperately find a four-bedroom home. My ex tried through the divorce to bankrupt and make me homeless. My determination set in. I was going to save a down payment on a home even if it killed me.
And it almost did. I worked three jobs seven days a week for 18 months and I saved every paycheck. My ex-affair partner knew more than anyone what I went through to leave my abusive marriage and become a homeowner. So I messaged him and asked him if he would like to come over and see my new home. I was so proud of being a homeowner. After I got this idea I became excited to show off to him all that I accomplished.
His response was, “I’m not comfortable coming to your home.”
It was the final nail in the coffin. I looked around my new house. My pride and joy. My incredible achievement had been reduced to an “I’m not coming over because I don’t want to sleep with you” moment. His concern about if we were ready or not for sex superseded a normal celebratory moment between good friends. And it made me feel like trash.
After all the hardships I’d been through, I’d never find peace if I held on to a relationship that reduced me to such an unworthy position in his life. I said goodbye.
….and that time I meant it.
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