A few months ago, I gathered the courage and cheated on my husband. I know you can’t wait to judge or call me names, so I’ll make it snappy.

I was pregnant with our second kid when he said he’d taken advantage of an office program to go study abroad. It was only a year-long program, so I said, “Hey, fly. I’ll be here waiting.”

A year later, he said he was going to work for a year and see how it would go. Another year later, he asked me to give him one more year to decide. Another year went by, and he said, “Life is better here. Let me make it and come for you.”

A little over a year later, he told me he had to marry a citizen to get papers, so he was dating a woman to see how it went. He didn’t tell me until I found out through someone else that he was living with a woman. Then he spun it to make it look like he was doing it for us: “I’m not sleeping with her, I swear. We’re just making it look real so I get my papers and then get a divorce.”

Every year’s end brought another story, each one harder to believe. So I decided to leave the marriage. It was something I’d planned but hadn’t told anyone about. I gave myself a year: if he didn’t come, I’d call and tell him I was seeking a divorce.

All that aside, my emotional needs had been neglected for a very long time. I kept telling myself, “Why cheat when you can just walk away and do it legally?” But when the opportunity finally presented itself, I didn’t say no.

The guy was someone I met on a trip. I didn’t even know his name, but when he asked me to dinner, I said yes. At dinner, he flirted so intensely it felt like he’d existed his whole life just to meet me. I followed him to his room and surrendered. The morning sun shone on my face as I lay in his bed.

He brought me breakfast. I said thank you. When I was leaving, he asked if he could see me that evening, and I said yes. But I never picked up his calls or answered his messages again. I thought I’d regret it, but instead, it made me emotionally stable. Balanced. It’s always the forbidden fruit that works magic.

I Was Fine Until I Was Alone In My Room

When I returned, I told Araba about it. She asked, “So what next?” I responded, “I’m walking out of this marriage and I’m doing it in stilettos so everyone hears the click of my heels as I leave.”

We haven’t spoken in three weeks. That should tell you the state of our marriage. I hope he’s having fun, because I am until we finally end this.

Now take the mic. Judge me.

—Rejoice

This story you just read was sent to us by someone just like you. We know you have a story too. Email it to us at submissions@silentbeads.com. You can also drop your number and we will call you so you tell us your story.

******