"I got a divorce. How could I trust him?"
Bonnie, 26 (Names have been changed)
Married five years
Divorced
Early on in our marriage Shane would talk endlessly about his grand
plans of going to school or running a business. But as the years
passed and none of those dreams became a reality (he was working
nights as a janitor), I began to sense he resented the fact that I
was the big breadwinner in the family (I handle public relations for
a university library). In addition to being unhappy, he was
extremely good-looking -- a deadly combination, I would eventually
find out.
Four years into our marriage I started hearing rumors from friends
that he was seeing a girl named Melanie (Name has been changed). But
when I confronted him, Shane told me that he couldn't be seeing
Melanie, because she was his friend Marcus's girlfriend. Not
convinced, I asked to meet the couple, so a few days later Shane and
I stopped by their home.
Melanie -- a chubby girl with short blond hair, definitely not
Shane's type -- took me on a tour of the apartment. Marcus was out,
she explained, but she showed me a framed photo of him. While this
certainly seemed like proof that what Shane was telling me was true,
I still felt something wasn't quite right, especially since Melanie
wouldn't make eye contact with me.
My first hard evidence that Shane was seeing Melanie was a box of
photos of her I found in our home, along with a love letter written
by her to Shane expressing her devotion. For a day I was completely
numb. Then I started crying and couldn't stop. When I confronted
Shane, he continued insisting that he wasn't seeing Melanie. But I
still didn't fully believe him and asked him to move out while I
tried to sort out my feelings. Months later I got a call from
Melanie's mother, who told me that Shane was indeed seeing her
daughter and that she thought Shane wasn't good for Melanie -- or
for me.
And what about Melanie's boyfriend, Marcus? Eventually I found out
what I had always suspected: Marcus didn't exist. The photo I'd seen
was of some other random guy. "Marcus" was merely a hoax to hide the
affair.
Feeling that I could no longer deny what was happening, I told Shane
that I was going to file for a divorce. During the proceedings,
Shane called me nearly every day and begged me to reconsider, but
his charms didn't work on me anymore.
We've now been divorced for four months. While I wonder what he's
doing and if he's still seeing Melanie, I don't allow myself to take
his calls. Though I know I shouldn't be, I'm still in love with him.
I have always believed that if you can stop loving someone, you
never really loved him to begin with. But I came to realize that
marriage isn't just about love, it's also about trust. Whenever I
start tearing up, wishing Shane were around, I just bring up the
whole "Marcus" sham in my mind -- and I stop crying.
"He confessed, but that doesn't mean he's in the clear."
Lynn, 35 (Names have been changed)
Married seven years
My husband, Joel, suffers from depression and has always had panic
attacks in confined spaces. Last March his attacks got so bad that
we checked him into the hospital. During a visit he said to me, "I
need to tell you something, and it has everything to do with why I'm
here. The guilt is making me sick." Joel told me he'd had an affair.
Right then I knew who it was.
I had always been suspicious of Susan,* a secretary at Joel's
company. She and her husband had been to our house for cookouts;
they even stayed over a few nights after they'd had too much to
drink. While I could sense Susan's intentions weren't innocent, I
trusted my husband so fully that I thought even if she tried coming
on to him, he wouldn't respond.
After he told me about the affair, the sound of his voice made me
feel sick. I left the hospital and didn't talk to him again until he
checked out three days later. By then I wanted details: Where did
they have sex? Did they have oral sex? Who was on top? Despondently
he answered me. Afterward I told him that I wanted him out of the
house. To keep our girls, who are 6 and 2, from suspecting anything
was wrong, we decided that he should be home before and after work
but then sleep at his parents' house.
All too soon my rage turned toward Susan. Calling her on the phone,
I said, "Hi, Susan, this is Lynn. I want to know how long you were
screwing my husband." To my surprise she denied it. Enraged, I
mailed her husband a letter saying, "Susan and Joel had an affair.
If you have any questions, call me." He never did, and to this day I
don't know if he even got the letter. After quitting her job, Susan
and her husband quietly disappeared from our lives.
Joel promised to do whatever it took to win me back and began
therapy. That's when Joel learned that his infidelity may have been
caused in part by the fact that he'd decided to go off his
antidepressants when I was pregnant with our younger daughter. This
in turn sent him spiraling into a deep depression; I, however,
hardly noticed what he was going through since I was wrapped up in
my baby-to-be and caring for our then 3 1/2-year-old daughter.
Feeling left out and floundering with feelings of worthlessness,
Joel came to rely on Susan for emotional support. And, eventually,
for love.
Every day I'd come home to see notes he'd taken in therapy on the
kitchen counter. Scribbled on them were things like "Court her
back," and "Put yourself in her shoes." When we crossed paths at
home in the evening, I could see him putting his lessons into
effect. Finally I allowed him to spend the night. Within weeks we
were so drawn to each other that we made love. And it was the most
intimate, passionate sex we'd ever had in our lives.
Now Joel is back on antidepressants. While most of the time I feel
as if we're going to make it, I'm still not convinced: What if he
goes off his medication again or his depression gets worse?
At some points the pain is so great I wish he'd never confessed to
his affair. "If it made you sick and you weren't going to do it
again, then you should have dealt with it on your own," I told him
once.
"I had to tell you," was his response. "Or it would have killed me."
That's when I realized that his guilt wasn't just some baggage or a
bomb he'd dropped on me. It was a sign that maybe I was married to a
good man after all. We'll see where things go.
Continued
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