Chapter 22
It had
had been almost six weeks since I’ve seen or spoken to Grant. Some days had been a battle with myself to not reply to his messages. I had to stop listening to his voicemails as they were making me miss him too much and I did not want to contact him.
My brain knew what he’d done to me was unforgivable but my stupid heart kept reminding me of all our sweet moments over the years and the look on his face that last morning in our apartment. The way he’d looked destroyed at the thought of me leaving him.
Could I forgive him for what he’d done? Should I forgive him for what he’d done?
Not just the cheating but the months of lies and manipulation.
I knew there were plenty of women who said “once a cheater, always a cheater and I thought that was me. I thought that was a line I could never come back from. Especially after what my father had done to my mother. The destruction it caused in my family. But some of the books I was reading and podcasts I was listening to showed another option. They showed relationships that survived cheating and how they can thrive.
I wasn’t sure yet which way I was going to go and until I knew for certain what I wanted to do I could not speak with him, I needed to think this through by myself without his influence.
My fellow nurses all had very strong opinions. It felt like 99% of them said I needed to throw the whole man away and start fresh, that he was a cheat and I deserved better. Most in fact wanted to remove his genitals with a rusty scalpel, but there was one nurse! worked with on occasion that had a different opinion. Last week Wendy had quietly told me that her husband had cheated on her years ago, and that their marriage had survived. In fact she felt her marriage was stronger today than it was before the infidelity happened. She offered to meet me for coffee after our shift if I wanted to talk to someone who’d been through it and I took her up on her offer. I felt like she’d talk to me about my situation without the judgement I sometimes felt from others.
Once we had settled in a local coffee shop with our drinks she explained that eight years ago she’d almost divorced her husband. She went on to explain that when he returned from a Bachelor’s Weekend in Vegas he admitted he’d had sex with someone. The group had apparently all gone to a Strip Club and had lots to drink, more than he usually did. He’d also taken ecstasy for the first time and said that there were large blank spots in his recollection of the evening. Apparently the guys he was away with were from the town he’d lived in before he met his now wife, and over the years since he’d last seen them they’d become regular drug users. They thought nothing of taking drugs and writing themselves off for a weekend and being already drunk that night he thought he’d join in. Some of the guys were married, others were not, but he said that they didn’t discriminate in how they behaved.
She in
initially kicked him out and found a lawyer to file for divorce. He begged her for a second chance and she refused. After many nights of arguing once their daughter was in bed he finally accepted her decision and they agreed he’d permanently move in with his brother. He wanted her to keep the house to minimise the disruption in their daughter’s life. His moving out didn’t stop him from showing up to ensure he remained an excellent father for their daughter and supporting her and was the first person there for her and her mother when her father died suddenly. Helping arrange the funeral, caring for their daughter when she was overwhelmed by grief and holding her when she cried. He gave her space but was a constant presence, never pushing for more and one night almost eight months after the event as she was getting ready for bed she malised she missed him. She missed the man she’d pledged her life to and she wanted to see if they could survive what he’d done.
She had called him and asked that he come back to the house. He initially thought something was wrong with her or their daughter but she explained she wanted to talk to him about their divorce now that Tilly was in bed. She said that the devastation on his face when he arrived was the final thing that got her to finally agree to counselling. That his face was that of a man who thought his life was over. He knew shed spoken with a lawyer and he thought she’d called him back to give him the divorce papers. They had both cried for hours that night, Him apologising for hurting her and Wendy for the risk she was taking in letting him back into her life.
She said that he didn’t move back in immediately. They’d agreed that they’d need therapy to try and work through the betrayal. After a recommendation from a friend they found a therapist that worked for them and began their long road to forgiveness. She acknowledged the sessions were brutal but that she managed to let go of a lot of her anger and hurt in that therapy room. The therapist helped her work through her feelings of inadequacy. This made me wince, why was it that as women universally blamed ourselves? It was bullshit but we all did it. I had certainly spent many sleepless hours thinking about why I hadn’t been enough for Grant. Ridiculous thoughts in the light of day, but late at night my mind wasn’t always a healthy place. Her husband had apparently sobbed during that
Book 1 Chapter 22
session Hating himself for what hed caused
Wendy said that as hard as therapy was for her, she actually felt that at times it was harder for her husband. The way he had to reveal his infidelity and answer every single question she had, and there were hundreds. His face every time she broke down was a memory she said she’d never forget. Sometimes the sessions had to be paused when it became too much for one of them to process Her husband was 100% transparent in his answers, no matter how awful they were and over time her questions stopped. Their therapist had them doing weekly tasks together to help rebuild their trust and also make them realise that their marriage would have to start fresh if it was going to work.
The way he had described it to them was that they’d have to put what happened on a shelf as something that lived in their house, like a
an ugly ornament from a family member that you hated but couldn’t get rid of. That it would always be there, but that hopefully over time, it could just be something that was there, not something they saw every day. At the time she didn’t believe she could ever go a day without thinking about what he’d done but said that she now often went months without thinking about it. She felt that the counselling made them a better, more resilient couple. That she felt they were both stronger than before the infidelity. She laughed at the look on my face “I wouldn’t wish what we went through on anyone, I’ve never known pain like it, but I now also know I can survive that kind of pain With or without my husband. I am enough. The fact I choose to spend my life with him is something he cherishes and I truly believe he’d never risk losing me again.”
When I asked her how she learned to trust him again she laughed and admitted it was “fucking hard.” That for her it took years and a lot of doubts, yelling and plenty of tears and sometimes crazy behaviour from her for almost two years, but her husband never wavered. She had the pass code to his phone, he cut contact with that friend circle, chose not to go on any boys trips and never had more than one or two beers. He never wanted her to doubt him again. He was completely committed to their marriage. She also explained that now when she thought back on that period in their life she realised that the main reason she was able to forgive him was that he confessed. He came straight home and told her. She’d have never known about his infidelity if he didn’t tell her about it. That his honesty made her realise he was still the man she loved and that he’d made one terrible mistake. During thempy when his confession came up he explained “no way could I let you love me without knowing the truth, I didn’t deserve your honest love if I wasn’t honest with
you
Apparently it also came to light some years later that two other married men on the same trip were unfaithful but never owned up to their spouses. It wasn’t the first time they’d strayed. Their wives had very different reactions to their husband’s infidelity and both
those marriages were now over. Wendy and Mike had since had two more children and she no longer felt the need to check his phas
or question his whereabouts. She’d made her own peace with what happened and was happy in her marriage.
As we parted ways after our coffee she stopped me to say one final thing “I didn’t share my history to try and sway you into forgiving your boyfnend, I just know when I went through my husband’s infidelity I had nobody to talk to that wasn’t telling me I was insane to consider reconciling. Everyone will have an opinion and some of them even have good intentions, but ultimately the only real opinion that matters is yours.”
Our conversation gave me a lot to think about. I didn’t know anyone else who had survived infidelity and seemed so happy. In the two years I’d been working with her I’d met her husband a few times when he dropped by with food for her and had also run into her whole family one weekend at Walmart. The way he looked at her, it was impossible to think of this man being unfaithful.
That brought me to tonight, walking through the parking garage after my double shift my mind wandered yet again to Grant. Seemed to be all I thought about late at night. Remembering everything Wendy had told me about her situation one point stuck out. husband had immediately confessed. He’d owned his mistake. Apologised and made immediate steps to never risk that behaviour again, Grant had done none of those things.
Her
Grant hadn’t admitted anything until I caught him out. I wondered if I hadn’t gone to the Club that night whether he’d have ever told me. His explanation that he was only doing it to stay in good with his boss for our future was outrageous. What happened if his boss asked him to hurt someone or steal. Would he do that too? Thinking over our last conversation at the apartment I believed he was sorry he’d hurt me. I could see that on his face, but I didn’t know if I believed he was sorry for what he’d done and I couldn’t say with the confidence I used to have, that he would be faithful if I took him back.
“Hello Emily”
I jumped a little hearing someone call my name. As a woman alone in a large parking structure I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings. My eyes looked towards the pillar next to my car and it was then I noticed Grant standing there. My heart was already pounding from the shock of someone calling my name in the dimly lit space, but seeing him for the first time in so long it
Book 1 Chapter 22
started beating double time.
I looked him over. Took in everything about him. He looked good. He always had. He was a handsome man and wore a suit well. Even as a teenager he’d always looked put together and held himself in such a way that people noticed him. As always his hair was neatly styled even this late at night, but his cheeks showed the first sign of stubble. He had to shave every moming to keep a clean shave. I felt a sad smile on my face when I remembered how I’d always loved him late at night when a little stubble had grown in.
He was giving me a tentative smile and I realised I hadn’t replied to his greeting. My brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders from being so tired and the surprise of seeing him so my response was a little less than eloquent.
“Long time no talk.”
