My husband worked in another town and I only got to see him when he had some days off or during the holidays. Sometimes I went to visit him where he worked.
It was like that for four years in our marriage and we had no problems.
My husband got promoted and his new position demanded more from him that he wasn’t coming home like he used to. I had to be going there rather but even that, I couldn’t spend a lot of time with him. He was always at work, even on weekends and came home very late in the night.
And then I started having deeper conversations with a gentleman in my office. I would name him John. John had a special way of delivering his messages. When he thought I looked beautiful, he would leave a note on my desk saying, “You look splendid today, wish I could watch you all day.”
At first, it was unsettling but I grew used to it. I even came to expect it. every time I went out and I came back to my desk, I would be looking around to see if I could find his note. Some days I did find. Some days, it was a no-show.
We took it a step further. We started going out after work and had meetings on some weekends. I was so sure I wasn’t going to date him because like me, John was also married and his wife worked outside of town.
I was only drawn to him because of his kind words and how he was able to make me open up to him. We both had partners who didn’t live with us and we talked about it often; sharing how we both were able to deal with such long-distance marriages.
One weekend, we had our usual sit out till it was very late in the night. On our home, what I dreaded most happened. It happened in his car somewhere on a deserted road. It was as though I didn’t have any defenses. I didn’t say no and I didn’t play hard to get. It just happened.
The guilt afterward was so strong I thought I would die of shame. I struggled to talk to my husband on phone and once he came around, I couldn’t look him in the eyes till so long. I and John tried avoiding each other at work and tried all we could not to talk about what happened.
But some weeks later, John said, “We are drifting away and I apologize for causing that.” We got talking again. We started meeting again. We had a sit out till late again and…and…and it happened again.
Somehow, I wanted him to be the one to leave me but he kept coming and I kept giving in until one day I found my strength to say no to everything. I insisted and asked him, “For how long can we continue doing this and to what end?”
He had no answer and that day became the turning point for us.
I wielded so much guilt to the extent that I got traumatized. I wished there could be someone to share my story with—a friend, a brother, a mother or something but I couldn’t bring myself to share it with anyone. I feared it would come out someday if I did.
I resigned to my guilt and decided to deal with it my own way.
One morning my husband called; “I would be coming home tomorrow, we need to talk.”
The “We need to talk” part got me traumatized, “Has he found out?” “Is he coming over to ask for a divorce?” “What does he want to talk about.”
He came and we talked. It turned out to be something worse than my fears. He had fathered a child with another woman at where he was working and thought I should know about it. He said, “I knew someday it would come out but I want you to hear it from myself and also ask you to forgive me.”
I was stunned or I should say I was broken? I can’t remember my feelings very well that day but it was something worse than broken. I asked him to give me some time to process the whole thing and know what to do.
As the days went by, my conscience kept saying to me, “Don’t pretend you are a saint. You’re also guilty of infidelity, just that you were not caught.”
I forgave him and asked that we make changes to the way we live as a couple. He understood me. Some months later, he left his job and found another job where I lived so we could live together as husband and wife.
The child now lives with us. Sometimes I look at him and I get angry but I can’t make him responsible for my husband’s infidelity. He is innocent but I am not and my husband is equally not innocent so I’ve learned to forgive and live in peace with both of them.
—Sandra, Ghana
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