The Aftermath

He refused to see a therapist, and he refused to discuss what happened with anyone. He was too afraid that people would view him negatively. I couldn't even wrap my head around that. I'm the one who had committed adultery. If he shared what happened with anyone, I would be the one who would be blamed - and rightly so, I thought. Yet, his greatest fear was that someone would find out what happened and view him as "less of a man."

He slept in Haley's room that week. When the time came to pick her up, and we hadn't made any progress toward achieving any meaningful resolution, he returned to our bed. There was no contact between us, however. I didn't dare initiate it, and he made no move on me. In front of our daughter, we acted as if everything were normal. As soon as she left the room, he would turn ice-cold. We only spoke to each other when absolutely necessary.

After several weeks of living like this, I couldn't take any more. We no longer had a functioning marriage. We had a living arrangement, a shared parental duty, and a joint checkbook. I still loved and cared for him deeply, and I would have gladly accepted whatever affection he offered, but it felt as though he had fallen out of love with me permanently. I couldn't keep living that way. It was time for an ultimatum.

***

Haley had been in bed for more than an hour before I finally summoned the courage to speak to him.

"It's time to make a decision," I said softly. "Either you need to do whatever it takes to forgive me so that we can move forward, or I think we should consider separating. I've told you how much I love you, how much this family means to me, and how sorry I am for what I did. I don't know what more I can do, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to fight for this marriage and keep our family together. If you're not willing to fight, then we're only hurting each other and Haley by staying together."

He considered my words for a moment. "How can you say you love me? You wouldn't have taken another man to bed if you really loved me."

I drew a long breath, trying to maintain my composure. "I've explained to you that what happened that night had nothing to do with you or our marriage. It was a selfish, foolish, spontaneous act that I deeply regret. I could have kept it to myself, but I wanted to be upfront and honest with you. That should count for something."

He shrugged. "I just...I thought I knew you so well. I never thought you could have done something like that."

"You do know me better than anyone ever has. Because of that, you know how out of character that was for me, and how unclearly I must have been thinking. I'm only human. I make bad decisions and do foolish things sometimes, just like everyone else. You've made bad choices in the past that went against your character, too. Remember when you drove home, completely drunk, from that bachelor party?"

"That's not the same."

"It is the same in that we both made extremely poor decisions that could have had disastrous consequences. You now have an opportunity to make another decision that could have the same disastrous consequences - maybe more so than any other decision either of us have made. If you decide that you can no longer trust me, and that our marriage is over, it will destroy this family. Haley's life will never be the same. Our lives will change forever. You have all the power to make that decision."

"You made that decision for us!" he shouted. "The moment you allowed that man in your room—"

"I did what I did and I regret it!" I said. "But now it's in the past. There is nothing either of us can do to change what happened. The only power we have is to decide what happens next. Now the ball is in your court. Now the fate of our marriage rests in your hands. I'll do whatever it takes to regain your trust. If you need to have a fling of your own to 'get even', go right ahead."

"That's ridiculous," he snarled. "It's not about getting even. It's about trust."

"Then I'll give you the passcodes to all my devices. I'll carry a GPS tracker whenever I'm away from home."

"You're not a little girl," he noted, "and I'm not your father. I don't need to treat you like some petulant teenager. You're supposed to be my equal partner."

"Then treat me like one," I said. "I know that I lost your trust. Let me build it up again, from scratch, starting now. If our marriage and our family means anything to you, give me that chance. Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting what I've done. I'll own that the rest of my life. All forgiveness requires is hope. Hope that I really do love you as much as I say I do. Hope that we can move past this and forge a bond that is stronger than ever, because we now understand how easily trust can be broken. Hope that you can believe that I will never again betray you. Do you feel a sliver of hope? Is our family worth fighting for? Or will you let my own bad decision destroy it?"

***

It has been nearly a year since that conversation took place. I would love nothing more than to provide a cheerful account of how Brian and I have been able to reconstruct the loving marriage we once shared together, and that our family is stronger than ever because of all the emotional heavy-lifting we performed together, and that we have all lived happily ever after.

Unfortunately, Brian didn't seem to share my sense of optimism and hope. Nor did he share my willingness to fight for what I felt was important. He simply couldn't bring himself to forgive me, even knowing the consequences of that. Through revealing my infidelity to him, I uncovered aspects of his personality that I had never noticed before. His inability to forgive reflected a stubborn anger that he preferred to carry with him. He seemed to believe that forgiveness was a sign of weakness instead of strength.

Beyond his stubbornness, I noted an intense insecurity that had kept itself hidden from me since the day we met. He was convinced that the reason I strayed was because of some inadequacy on his part, and no amount of denial on my behalf swayed him from that belief. He insisted that I would stray again, and once I found a better lover, I would abandon him. No amount of reassurance to the contrary seemed adequate enough.

When it became apparent that we would never move past this, we began the process of separation. The most difficult part of that process was explaining to Haley why Daddy would no longer be living with us. Of course, we didn't mention the real reasons. We tried to behave as though this were completely natural, and that our family wouldn't suffer any negative consequences because of our separation. Naturally, she was confused and very upset. It broke my heart having to watch her deal with such a confusing and scary situation.

Next came the process of explaining our situation to all of our family and friends. We didn't disclose my infidelity, as Brian continued to insist that it would reflect poorly on him. Instead, we explained in simple and vague terms that we were having some marital difficulties. If they pressed for more details, we told them it was none of their business. Of course, my sister wouldn't take that for an answer, and I eventually caved and told her the entire story. I needed someone to hear it, and she was gratefully sympathetic.

Before the separation, Brian and I had staggered our work hours so that someone would always be home for Haley when she returned from school. With him out of the house, I had to reduce my working hours to compensate. That had an obvious impact on my income, which began to eat away at our savings. Having separate living expenses and separate homes also added to our expenses.

After several months had passed, Brian seemed to realize all of the damage his decision had caused. I think he also realized that he missed his family. It had to have been lonely living in that apartment by himself. With a heavy heart, he asked if he could move back in with me and Haley. He assured me that he could eventually forgive me and learn to trust me again.

However, by the time he arrived at that decision, I had come to the conclusion that I could no longer live with him. I just couldn't be married to someone who would constantly be on the lookout for betrayal and deceit. His decision not to fight for our family made me realize that our priorities were drastically different. My love for him was unconditional, and I would have done whatever it took to forgive him if the situation were reversed. Likewise, he deserved to be married to a woman he trusted completely. Although it seemed as though we still loved each other, I realized that he was better off without me, and I was better off without him.

Our once-happy family was destroyed by two bad decisions: one mine, and one Brian's. All of the emotional pain and financial ruin we have experienced could have been avoided had either of us made a different decision. It also could have been avoided had I simply kept my secret to myself. However, I no longer question my decision to tell Brian about what happened that night. They say, "adversity does not build character; it reveals it." Revealing my indiscretion to my husband allowed our true characters to be revealed.