That day in September

"I fucked up" is what he said to me.  While driving on the interstate heading North, my thoughts were pleading to God to "please help us through this, whatever he is about to tell me, please give me the strength to handle it and help us through this."  I never thought he would say those words to me, the words that followed.  For me, I thought all was fine, I had no idea his devotion to me diminished.  I did not believe he would ever do that, have an affair.  I did suspect at one time but deep down I believed it would never happen. 

My day was going so well before he told me.  I had gotten the phone call I was waiting for from our mortgage company letting me know we were approved for a refi at a lower rate.  We had been waiting for some time for a final answer after a long tedious process.  During that time we were struggling financially and it seemed things were falling apart around us in regards to our finances.  I was so happy to hear the words on the phone telling me "you have been approved", tears flooded my eyes while sitting at my desk at work.  I finally seen light at the end of the tunnel.  I was so excited I immediately called my husband to tell him the great news.  No excitement, no emotion, nothing.  His words to me, "We need to talk".  I asked him several times what it was about, but he was very clear that it needed to be in person after I got off work.  I got home and found him lying on the bed looking down, tense, nervous-unable to move as I looked over him asking him what was wrong.  Silence.  Finally, he got up, no eye contact, no words only communicating to his son that we will be back.  He said that we will talk about it in the car as we take a drive.  I felt at that moment that yes, something is wrong, something pretty significant, but not that.  All I could think is that he spent money putting us further in debt?  I could not think of what it could be other than that.  I thought, we can get through this.. it is just money. 

The drive was quiet, unemotional, still in the mood.  I gave him his time to speak, and during that waiting period to hear what he had to say, I silently prayed.  "Dear God, give me the strength to handle whatever it is he is going to tell me, help me through this, help us through this.  Please help us through this, please help me through this, whatever he is going to say.  Give me the strength to make it."  Over and over I silently repeated it, while looking out the window onto the highway periodically glancing over at him while he quietly drove the car.  He finally spoke "I fucked up, I made a mistake and had an affair with someone a year ago and she got pregnant and is trying to say it is mine."  I thought to myself that it could not be true.  Really? Stunned at first, but could not stop asking myself, why?   How did this happen?  Why?  With who?  Why?

He finally got it out, a year after he got her pregnant.  He obviously was with her since the September before being their child was born in May.  I left for about a week that last September to attend a conference in Denver, surely he was with her during that time, maybe before that even.  I do not know.  And yes, with her after for "a couple months" which is code for a lot longer than a couple months, I believe.  How painful it was, hearing those words come out of his mouth.  I hurt so deeply, it cut so deep.  I considered, for a moment, to open the car door and just let it all go, all the pain that is.  How easy that would have been.  But that was just for a moment of thinking until my anger took over the pain.  He wanted to drive and talk about it.  What was there to talk about?  I wanted to go home, leave him at the house and go on my way somewhere else.  Where?  I did not know at the time, just away, away from him. 

We had been married for 8 years at the time he told me, 7 years when he had the affair.  During those years we were not actively trying to have our own child, but we were hoping it would happen soon.  I wanted to have a girl, I wanted to give him a girl, that was my dream!  He already had a son from a previous marriage and I dreamed of being able to give my husband a little girl.  I thought I was fully ready to share my story, but I see now as I emotionally communicate this part I struggle the most with this.  I asked him with hesitation the question I did not want the answer to, "is it a boy or a girl?".  "A girl" he answers.  So painful it was for me.  Damn, 6 years later and I still struggle with this.

As we make it back to the house, I am so ready for him to leave my side, get out of the car- get the fuck away from me.  Just let me go on my way, let me be by myself.  I needed to grieve the loss of our marriage.  Before I drove out of the driveway I tell him with angry, teared filled eyes, "I hope you are not like some of these other assholes out there who do not take care of their kids!"  I drove off, crying in the car, looking for somewhere to go.  Where?  I cannot go to anyone in my family, my mother, step dad, friends.. no.  I was so embarrassed, ashamed, I did not want anyone to know about it.  I ended up at a hotel in Iowa, and I cried so hard, my head hurt, my stomach, my whole body ached of pain and heartache.  In the shower, I cried, on the bed, curled up holding my stomach, crying, I could not stop.  All while asking, Why?