It was a regular Sunday evening. The kids were at the park. My husband was supposed to reach in some time from an office trip to Europe. The kids had spent the afternoon guessing what gifts daddy would bring them from abroad and I had busied myself in the kitchen making my husband’s favourite dishes.
Nothing seemed amiss, in fact, we were all excited that the man of the house was coming back after two months. Now we could go for movies on Saturdays again and also for late night ice cream jaunts during boring weeknights.
His hormones took over his emotions…
But that night when my husband came he seemed quiet, aloof even nervous. I blamed it on jet lag. But he asked me to tell the kids to sleep early so that we could talk.
Surprised, I ordered the kids to bed and followed him to the bedroom. Maybe he missed me too much; I blushed. But what followed next hit me like a ton of bricks.
My husband told me while on the trip he had sex — with a prostitute. It wasn’t planned or intentional. He explained. His colleagues, some single, some married decided to let their hair down one night and went for a strip show. He tagged along thinking it as harmless fun.
The show was followed by a lap dance till the men began booking prostitutes for the night. He said he was too drunk to be thinking straight and had a sexy looking woman forcing him to come along. His hormones took over his emotions and he gave in. He promised me that it was the one and only time and it was weighing on him that’s why he chose to confess.
I had no words. I got up and went to the kitchen to cry silently. I stared at the dishes I had made. Maybe it was my fault. When I should have been trying to look sexy for him I was toiling in the kitchen.
Why should a woman always compromise?
After a week of discomforting silence, I decided o tell him that maybe we should separate. He scoffed at the idea and said that it was just a physical slip and would never happen again.
I cannot bring myself to sharing the bed with him again. I know I will constantly be thinking of his encounter. And what if, even worse, he too would be thinking about that sexy escort? He has pleaded guilty, has lost his cool that I am not able to get over it and has even tried to woo me with gifts.
But something between us has died. I acknowledge that he chose to tell me when he could have easily hidden it. I am happy (if such an emotion is possible) at his honesty but I am broken inside. My friends’ say that I should forgive him but how can I be ever sure that it won’t happen again?
Why should a woman always compromise? And why should this single emotionally uneventful night ruin my marriage? I am at the crossroads and lost on which path to take. My life has changed because my man could not control himself. Why should I suffer because someone else chose fun over loyalty?
*Republished with permission from theIndusparent