We received a letter from a woman recently. She revealed how a revelation she never anticipated utterly upended her marriage, which had seemed to be perfect. She discovered that her spouse had been leading a second life after years of what appeared to be a blissful, easy existence together. She is now requesting our counsel.
This is the beginning of this tragic letter.
After twelve years of blissful marriage, I decided to perform some spring cleaning and expose my husband’s hidden life. I began going through dusty boxes that had been stored in the garage for many years. I opened one without thinking while I was moving through them. A candy box in the shape of a heart was inside. What I discovered within, however, was what really chilled me. When I read the note, “Thanks for sharing your husband with me,” my heart fell.
But in order for you to comprehend my predicament and offer me guidance, perhaps I should provide some details.
All 12 of those years have been spent inseparable by our reader and her spouse.
“Everyone referred to my husband and me as the ‘perfect couple.'” We had three wonderful children, didn’t fight, and shared everything. Our lives were the epitome of security, ease, and consistency. We were envied by everyone, or at least that’s what I told myself.
Since our first encounter, which occurred while I was in my mid-20s, we have been inseparable. As my best buddy, he was my rock. Traveling, watching movies, and spending peaceful evenings at home were all things we shared. It was all simple and effortless.
They managed to overcome the brief collapse of their ideal life. At least our reader believes that.
However, things began to change four or five years ago onward. Tension increased between us with the birth of our third kid. We drifted apart over several months. However, to be honest, it just took one genuine discussion to resolve the issue. At that point, my spouse revealed something to me that I had not anticipated.
He acknowledged that he had been jealous of the children, believing they were consuming all of my time and that I was no longer spending enough time with him. That was all, though. It was behind us. I thought so.
Imagine yourself in the garage at that precise moment, squatting in the dusty corner with a candy box in your hands. I had a racing mind. Despite its simplicity, the note within disturbed me. What was the meaning of that? “Who was’me’?”
Though she searched for a logical answer, something in her heart begged for betrayal.
The pounding of my heart was palpable. I attempted to explain it by thinking that perhaps it was a gift from before we met. However, there was another part of me that experienced this icy, creeping dread—the one that had never even considered doubting our marriage. Why save it? Why would you conceal it in a box that has not been opened in some years?
Trying to calm my rushing mind, I got up while still holding the package. I recalled how he had been acting lately: working late into the night, going on trips he “forgot” to mention, and always having his phone face down at home. I kept thinking that something was wrong, but I told myself that was simply my paranoia.
I was unable to ignore it any longer. I needed to face him. With no further hints from the remaining boxes, I was forced to confront the man I believed to be my ideal spouse.
His response was more powerful than his words. She realized everything at that precise instant.
“I couldn’t contain myself after he arrived home. I simply thrust the box into his face. Although I realize that I overreacted, my instinct told me to confront him. It was a betrayal. His face turned white when he saw the box. It dawned on me then. “Baby,” he said, “it’s not what you think.”
I am the one who knows him the best, and his body language? The exact opposite screamed out of it. He felt afraid. What followed is a haze. I was all over the place, rambling and emotional. It’s all a muddle now, to be honest. However, this is what I recall. The box? Yes, it was intended for me. He acknowledged feeling lonely five years ago with the birth of our third child. He became close to a colleague. He felt loved, needed, and even gorgeous again because of her.
Who has the audacity to say such to me?
According to her spouse, it was merely a transient weakness that had no significance for him.
“He assured me that he would never abandon our family.” According to him, it was merely a weakness or a mistake of judgment. His coworker, however, didn’t share that opinion and wanted to tell me everything. He ended it after realizing how grave his error had been. He even got her let go. “That’s why you don’t have anything else to worry about,” he continued, meeting my gaze. Really? How adorable.
I didn’t anticipate this cheating. He was always the perfect man in my mind. Now, though, who is he?
He should move out for a while, I urged him. I needed room. He was offended and upset. “She’s exaggerating,” he even said to my parents. Five years have passed, and I have never left the family. It’s not worth ruining everything for something so pointless.
Since everyone around her defends her husband and berates her for leaving, our reader feels adrift.
I’m stuck now. Simply put, my family and friends don’t understand. They continuously warning me against ruining our “ideal family” over a passing relationship. By claiming that it was male postpartum depression, some even attempt to defend it. Actually? He’s the one who’s depressed, and I was at home by myself with three children while he was off “finding himself.” My husband’s “nice guy” persona makes me feel like no one can relate to my suffering. I’m really alone.
To be honest, I have no idea what to do anymore. Although I cannot forgive him, I still adore him. His dismissal of it as if it were a little matter makes me wonder about everything. What the devil is this man? My faith has been betrayed.
Here I am, requesting guidance. Not the kind of counsel that justifies his actions, but sincere counsel from those who aren’t attempting to justify him.
