My first D-Day was 16 September 2004. My husband collected me from work, drove us home, and, as soon as we walked through the door, said, "I have something to tell you – I am leaving you." He had already packed. I felt sick; my world fell apart. I begged to know why, and eventually he blurted out, "I have met someone else." Then he walked out.
D-Day number two came on 9 July 2026, almost 22 years later.
These are his words. In December 2002, he had gone out to celebrate Christmas with work colleagues; he is a uniformed emergency worker in the UK. While the group were having a drink, two women came in, introduced themselves, and spent about twenty minutes talking to the men. One said she was the school crossing person near their station, worked as a cleaner at the local hospital, and lived in that part of town. My husband said he also lived locally and had probably seen her many times. The two women stayed for a while, then moved on to another venue.
Sometime in January 2003, my husband bumped into one of the women near the local supermarket, and they stopped to chat. He realised she was interested in him, and the attention intrigued him. He said it was something he had not felt for many years, not since before he met me; by then, we had been married nearly 23 years. He told me he felt he had "nothing in his life for himself" and that we were not getting on. He told her he was married, and she said she was separated. They exchanged telephone numbers, and he told her to ring him when he was next on duty. He said he knew then that he had crossed the line.
He does not recall who made the first call, but thinks it was her, as he lacked the courage. Working shifts gave him daytime freedom, and within days he visited her at home, about twenty minutes from ours. He stayed for about half an hour and agreed to return. When I asked why, he said she was someone new to talk to, someone who boosted his ego by praising his job and the people who did it. He felt flattered; the conversation was easy, and he felt in control. He described her as a simple woman with simple needs. After a few visits they were holding hands and kissing, and within two or three weeks they went to bed, though he says they did not have sex until the next visit. He admits he acted knowingly, but felt he had nothing in his life and thought, why not?
He says the sex wasn’t great, though he would say that. He did not find her particularly attractive but believed she found him attractive. The affair continued, with him visiting her two or three mornings a week while I was at work, leaving the rest of the day to himself.
He became concerned that she had fallen in love with him. She constantly told him she loved him, and he admits saying it back, though he insists it was only in response. He says it was not what he expected or wanted. He was not really attracted to her, and the conversations and routine began to bore him. Apart from one lunch twenty miles away and a walk in a nearby country park, he only visited her at home because he was afraid of being seen by someone we knew.
When guilt weighed on him, he would appear moody but soon realised she took this as proof he was unhappy at home and wanted to be with her.
When she took another part-time job that began at noon, he had an excuse to arrive late and leave early. The validation was wearing thin, and he realised she was not what he wanted. In his words, he "had a monkey on his back."
He thought he was in control because he chose when the visits happened, but she wanted more, and he did not know what to do. If he cancelled or arrived late, she cried, said she loved him more than I did, promised she could give him more, and begged him not to leave her. She did not ask for nights out or weekends; she knew how to wait.
He admits he told her he would leave me, saying it to appease her while he tried to work out how to escape. His thoughts were all over the place. At home, he noticed I was more affectionate and pleased to be with him. She had not threatened anything yet, but he sensed she would not let go. She hinted that he would soon leave me and they would be a "proper couple", and he nodded along to keep the peace.
We have always travelled, usually taking two or three overseas holidays a year. Eight months into the affair, we were about to take our third holiday since it had begun. When he told her at the last minute, she was furious, and alarm bells rang for him. My husband avoids confrontation at all costs. He had also omitted to tell her that we had another holiday booked for the following summer. By then, he says he was enjoying life at home again but realised he was planning to give up everything for something he did not want.
By summer 2004, the affair had lasted eighteen months and he was panicking. Why had he not spoken to me, faced our problems, or counted his blessings?
She saw herself as the other woman but wanted to be the woman in his life. She kept asking when he would leave and how long she had to wait. Knowing he had to tell her about the summer holiday, he confessed the affair to his sister and said the woman expected him to leave me and eventually marry her. I rarely saw my sister-in-law, so the chance of hearing it from her was remote, though her daughter lived within 500 yards of the affair partner.
When he finally told her about the holiday, she went ballistic. She said he was not going and threatened to come to our home and tell me everything if he got on the plane. He persuaded her not to by saying that would end them and promised he would leave me when we returned. He says he would have promised anything to avoid her confronting me.
After the holiday, he visited her, hoping things had settled and hoping for a miracle, but she was at fever pitch: he had been away, and now it was time to keep his promises. He made up his mind that he had to leave me because he could not face her threats. He told his sister that he had been having an affair and that he was frightened where it was going. He knew he would have to leave me but he didn’t know when and he didn’t know how it was all going to turn out.
So back to the beginning: he left. He told me he was staying with a work colleague but went to her. He described his last day at home as "absolutely sickening". The enormity hit him: he might lose everything, including his children — and, again, these are his words, not mine — "all to make that f..king bitch happy, for a day, maybe a week".
Suddenly she had everything and went into overdrive, telling him that the children and I would get over it and that he just needed time. He said he did not want to be there; he wanted to be alone but had to pretend everything was ok. He worried about me, missed me, and says he realised I was real in a way she was not: she did not truly know him.
He began to wonder whether he could come home and whether we could make it work. My reaction had floored him: instead of accepting his leaving, I showed only love. He started remembering happier times — holidays, the children when they were younger, and nights out with friends.
His epiphany came when we met as a family for our son’s birthday. The penny dropped: he wanted to come home and no longer cared what the affair partner might do.
After visiting his mother’s final resting place, he returned to her house and told her it was over; he was going home. He remembers little of the conversation except her saying, "You don’t love her, you love me, she can’t give you the love I give you." He packed, returned her key, left, sent me a text, and waited.
She did do what she had threatened. She came to our door the next morning, pushed past him, and tried to tell me about the affair, but I cut her short and told her to leave. The following day she returned, handed me a gold necklace and a note. Once again she was told to go. She did not give up easily. She visited his niece’s house nearby, pretending she had come to see the new baby she had just delivered.
He changed his telephone number and refused her calls at work. Eventually, we heard nothing until six months later, when his father died and she sent a condolence card to his sister.
We moved on. We had counselling, and things improved a little. He moved on quickly; I simply did what I had to do to get through each day.
Roll forward to June 2026, and I began having major flashbacks and triggers. I found myself falling apart again. Do I believe all he says. Do I go through this all again or this time, do I leave.
[This message edited by WB34Richmond at 3:37 PM, Tuesday, July 28th]
