We just received a letter from a woman. She revealed that an unexpected discovery utterly upended her marriage, which had seemed to be flawless. She discovered that her spouse had been leading a second life after years of what appeared to be a smooth and contented existence together. She is now contacting us to ask for our opinion.
This is how this tragic letter started.
Before I made the decision to conduct some spring cleaning and disclose my husband’s secret life, we enjoyed a wonderful marriage for twelve years. In the garage, I began going through dusty boxes that had been there for many years. I opened one mindlessly while sorting through them. There was a candy package with a heart on it. But what I discovered inside was what really chilled me. A note that read, “Thanks for sharing your husband with me,” made my heart sink.
However, perhaps I should provide some information so that you can comprehend my predicament and offer me guidance.
Over the course of those twelve years, our reader and her spouse have been inseparable.
Everyone referred to my spouse and I as the “ideal couple.” We had three wonderful children, shared everything, and never argued. Our lives exemplified consistency, ease, and foresight. Everyone was envious of us, or so I persuaded myself.
I was in my mid-twenties when we first met, and we have been together ever since. He was my dearest buddy and my rock. We shared a love of movies, vacations, and peaceful evenings at home. Everything was simple and effortless.
For a brief while, their ideal existence fell apart, but they managed to get past it. That’s what our reader believes, anyway.
But things began to change around four or five years ago. Tension between us increased after the birth of our third kid. For several months, we drifted apart. To be honest, though, it only took one genuine discussion to put things right. My husband then revealed something to me that I had never anticipated.
He said that he had been feeling envious of the children, as if they were consuming all of my time and I wasn’t seeing him enough. But that was all. We got over it. Or so I believed.
Now fast-forward to that moment in the garage, where you are holding a candy box while crouching in the dusty corner. My thoughts were racing. I was tormented by the little note inside. Even so, what did that mean? Who was “me”?
She searched for a logical reason, but something in her heart cried out betrayal.
“My heart was pounding in my chest.” I attempted to make sense of it; perhaps it was a gift from before we met, from his past? This icy, creeping dread, however, was sensed by another part of me, the part that had never even considered doubting our marriage. Why hold onto it? Furthermore, why conceal it in a box that had not been opened for years?
Still holding the box, I got up and tried to calm my racing mind. I recalled his recent actions, such as staying up late at work, going on vacations he “forgot” to mention, and constantly having his phone face down at home. Though I told myself I was just being paranoid, I couldn’t shake the uneasy sense that something wasn’t right.
I was no longer able to ignore it. I had to face him. I was forced to confront the man I believed to be my ideal husband because the other boxes didn’t provide any other hints.
His statements were overshadowed by his response. She knew everything at that instant.
I was unable to contain myself when he got home. I simply pressed the box to his face. Yes, I realize that I overreacted, but I felt compelled to face him. I was deceived. His face turned white at the sight of that box. Then it dawned on me. “Baby, it’s not what you think,” he added.
And his body language? I know him better than anyone. The exact opposite was screamed. He was afraid. The rest of it is a blur. I was rambling, emotional, and all over the place. To be honest, a lot of it is now simply a blur. But this is what I recall. The container? Yes, I was the intended recipient. He acknowledged that he had experienced loneliness five years prior, with the birth of our third child. He became friendly with a coworker. She restored his sense of need, desire, and even good looks.
How daring of you to even say it to me.
According to her husband, it was merely a transient weakness that didn’t matter to him.
He assured me that he will always be with our family. He said that it was only a weakness or a mistake in judgment. But his coworker wanted to tell me everything, so she didn’t see it that way. He ended it after realizing what a terrible mistake he had made. He even got her fired. Then he said, “That’s why you don’t have anything else to worry about,” looking me in the eye. Oh, really? How charming.
This cheating was unexpected. He has always seemed like the perfect man to me. However, who is he now?
I advised him to leave for a time. I required room. He felt humiliated and hurt. He even said, “She’s exaggerating,” to my parents. I never left the family, and that was five years ago. It isn’t worth ruining everything for something so insignificant.
Everyone around her opposes her decision to leave and supports her husband, leaving our reader feeling lost.
“I’m stuck now. My relatives and friends simply don’t understand. They warn me repeatedly not to ruin our “ideal family” over a brief affair. Some even attempt to defend it by claiming that it was postpartum depression in men. Really? While he was out “finding himself,” I was at home by myself with three children, and he’s the one who’s depressed? Because of my husband’s reputation as a “nice guy,” I feel like no one can relate to my suffering. I feel so alone.
To be honest, I’m at a loss on what to do. Even though I love him, I know I will never be able to forgive him. I start to doubt everything because of the way he dismisses it as if it were a trivial matter. Really, what sort of man is he? It breaks my trust.
Thus, here I am, seeking guidance. Real, honest advise from people who aren’t attempting to justify his actions—not the kind of advice that justifies his actions.