Written by A Military Spouse
Editors Note: The spouse who wrote this piece chose to remain anonymous… and we fully support her decision to do so. We encourage readers to read this entire piece before commenting or passing judgement. This writer was very brave to share this story and believes it can help others.
“He adores you, you know. You can tell by the way he looks at you.”
We were in my best friend’s backyard and my friend’s mom had pulled me over to the fence.
“I wish he,” she whispered, motioning to her son-in-law, “would look at her,” she nodded to my friend, “like that.”
Though I cringed for my friend, I knew what her mom was saying was true. My husband and I had a great marriage. We were the couple other couples wanted to double date with because we were always fun and never bickered. We were both attractive – even after having a baby I could still wear the jeans I’d worn on our first date. And we had a great sex life.
I smiled. “Yes,” I said. “I’m very lucky.”
Then, just two months later, I found out that he had cheated.
The email came on a Wednesday, in the middle of the day.
“I feel so bad,” it read. “I need to tell you that I’ve been having an affair with your husband. But it’s over now and I’m very sorry for any pain I’ve caused.”
She told me more details and even signed her full name.
I called him immediately and insisted that he come home from work. Thirty minutes later he was walking in the door. He admitted everything but, honestly, that day is kind of a blur now. I’m sure there was screaming and crying, slamming doors, all of that, but I don’t really remember what either of us said. I do remember the details of the affair, though. For years they played through my mind like a horror movie. She was a female soldier, though not someone he worked with. They’d met because she had dated a single friend of his. She would meet my husband in the parking lot before work in the morning and she would engage in certain sexual behaviors with him in his car. They’d never gone anywhere together and never had intercourse, he insisted, as if that would make me feel better. And I guess it did make me feel a little better, but not much…
