The affair

My husbands having an affair 

I see it in his eyes; he can’t look at me without guilt filling his eyes. But he doesn’t know i can see It. He lives his two lives in secret of one and other. But i know. I know.

He doesn’t try to hide it anymore. That hurts the most. 

I find her things in my closet, her shirts next to mine. Her tooth brush takes pride in my bathroom next to his. Her make-up has replaced mine. I don't know when it begun, but I know that I’m being replaced. I don't recognise myself in my own home.

Her picture is his new Home Screen. Both of their face squished together on his screen, warm smiles plastered across their faces, love in their eyes. That used to be me!

He doesn't even hide it anymore. 

He’s not even ashamed!

Every Friday, i still wait for him. Every Friday, he meets with her instead of me. Every Friday I sit alone. 

Enough is enough. 

He thinks that I am gone, and so he scurries off to her waiting arms. I discover their plans purely by accident. The texts were open on his phone. So were the kisses.  

 He’s not even hiding it anymore!

I hate that it has come to this. I hate that i open his search history. I hate that I find the ring. 

So they’re planning a picnic by the lake, and then he’ll row her out on a small boat he recently bought. He bought her the boat. Like a Disney prince, swooping down to save her, to drown her with my riches. Did she think they were his? Would she hate that they were mine?

They giggle in the boat. Hands always touching, or knees, or elbows. Never an inch apart! They look so happy. Her staring at him like he’s the love of her life, and him, staring back at her like I didn’t exist. He really looks the part - the part of the Disney price. The saviour. 


The liar. 


My money paid for that boat. 

On our wedding day, we made our own vows. We promised each other then- through the good and the bad- that we’d always be there for one and other. Maybe I broke that first. Or maybe he just forgot our spoken promises. I promised to love him and I have. He promised to stay…

We couldn’t afford proper rings. The vows were promises unlike the flimsy cheap bands of metal on our fingers. But they were enough. They should have been enough. 

 But now he reaches down into the bag. They laugh over sandwiches, smile through sips of champagne. She drops the glass when he pulls out the ring. 

A real diamond ring, more expensive than the boat. More expensive then our wedding bills in total! She’s giggling, a high pitched squeal as he takes her hand in his, kisses it, and places the band round her finger. 

My tear had already fallen on the stone by the time I had realised I was crying. 

I can’t help but think back to my parents. Our wedding was the last time they were together. They were taken from me too soon, but at least then I had my husband to console me, promise me that everything would be okay. I feel the hatred build up in my stomach at those thoughts. 

What would they think now? Now that this is where their money was going! Their hard earned savings funding the life style of a betraying son in law, on a woman who wasn’t their daughter. They loved him as their son, welcomed him into our family with warm open arms…

Does he even remember them?

With tears in their eyes, he rows to the shore. He jumps out first and fills his arms with her, lifting her out of the boat and spinning her around - a scene fresh from a movie. 

But this movie had a very different ending. 

He placed her down and she wrapped her arms around him. They were underneath the willow tree, embraced by its warmth. That should have been me!

This was our spot! How can she be taking everything from me? How can he be giving it all to her? Was I nothing! Is my memory nothing to him!

I want to scream! I want to tell her the truth! I want to rip out his hair and demand an explanation! 

I want him to remember me, and what we had. 

As they hold each other in the dimming sun light, I lean against the stone, deciding on what I was going to do next…

But that was our spot! Not theirs.

So I stepped out from behind my stone, and glare at him. I couldn’t hide the pain as I stared, grieving our marriage. 

When he saw me, he paled. 

I can’t believe the nerve of him. Proposing to her right next to where he buried me!