Cheating Husband: Screw NOT Telling His Wife!
So this is a live, personal photo posted here today folks. That lady with the long hair and the rhinestone bra strap is no other than yours truly. I wish I could show you the face of this urban cowboy I’m passionately kissing here, oh I REALLY wish I could -
But I don’t think that would be fair to his WIFE.
Yup. That’s right. I said ‘wife’.
Back up and let me explain. It was Tuesday night last week, right in the middle of the Calgary Stampede. The city – and the bars – were packed to the hilt; locals and tourists all playing cowboy/cowgirl.
Shortly after me and my girlfriends arrived at the bar, Mr. Smooth in the photo descended upon us, inviting us upstairs to a private company party. Off we went…and over the next half hour it became quickly transparent that Mr. Smooth was VERY interested in me.
He told me he was divorced. Not just divorced but happily divorced. He talked about his single life, his wonderful children, his fulfilling career…
The more I talked to him, the more my attraction to him grew. His energy, his smarts, were sucking me in. I knew he was from Edmonton, and I really don’t like the out-of-town thing…but he kept commenting on how intense our ‘emotional connection’ was; how he really wanted to take me out for a proper elegant dinner and get to know me; how he wasn’t just about wanting to have sex. (He also knew it was out of the question cause I had to get home to my kids).
I’m not going to get into too much more detail; suffice it to say we spent the next seven hours together. Lots of talking, lots of major heavy petting, dancing, drinking, holding hands as we wandered through the bar. And I’ll admit it – I was pretty taken with him. That doesn’t happen to me often. Though I’m sure the drinks I’d consumed helped things along…
The bomb came a day and half later. That’s when I found out he was married. How? Not through him, I assure you. One of his friends accidentally let the cat out of the bad to one of MY girlfriends.
I was mad. Not just mad, I was furious that this guy the audacity to lie to my face over and over all night long – and he was SO good at it. More than that, he mislead me. And for what? So he could feel a different set of boobs for a night? So he could feel like a stud? So what if it was Stampede time, so what if others say “anything goes” during that week. That was bullshit to me. This guy was out doing whatever in the hell he wanted, wasting my time, playing with MY body and MY brain, while meanwhile, I betcha he had a lovely, faithful, sweet wife at home waiting for him to text her goodnight.
Over the next few hours, old hurt resurfaced; my emotions were reacting so strongly I knew something old was being triggered in me: I could relate to ‘her’ – how she’d be home waiting, thinking nothing of his goings-ons, trusting, taking care of the home…while husband dearest was out trying to f*** anything that moved.
I found her on Facebook. I looked at her photo and every cell in my body screamed, “You were her. You were her and no one told you for YEARS of your husband’s goings-on. Why would you, of all people, deprive her of that knowledge?”
So I wrote her. And I told her. More than that, we spoke on the phone. And when I got off the phone with her I cried. I cried cause I knew how hard it was for her to listen to what I said. I could feel my hands shaking and blood racing as if in unison with hers. I could feel her world crashing in. I could feel the peircing stab of betrayal through her heart.
But when my tears subsided and my blood calmed, I could only think of her final words to me: “Thank you. Thank you for having the courage telling me.”
And I held my shoulders back knowing I’d made the right choice – for her AND me.