1. He told me he was staying overnight in a hotel downtown overnight before a seminar he was leading. We are about 40 miles from the city---and his rationale was that his heart disease and meds were making it too difficult to get up and going early enough to get there from here in time to get everything set up and get prepared to speak. I understood---and, in fact, worried about him. A lot. He'd done this in the past (which now makes me wonder), but only when he was feeling really awful. That he needed to do this really, really worried me.
That was the night OW flew in for their high school reunion; he took her out for a nice dinner in a fancy restaurant, and she spent the night with him.
His response, when I told him how much this hurt--that he'd not only betrayed me, but lied in a way that had me worried sick? "Well, there was a seminar! I did need to be down there early. And I would have been in a hotel anyway."
2. Re: the high school reunion--I was not invited. I didn't want to go, and I didn't want him to go. He is an asshole when around HS friends, and I already was sensing something was up. We were supposedly working to R from an infidelity discovered a few years prior---and he just wasn't stepping up to the plate. ("It was so long ago!" "Just get over it!" "I am doing everything you want--you just don't want to see it!") I just had a very bad feeling about it.
I asked if we could, instead, have a weekend away alone. His response, over a few months, ranged from "NOW you want to do that? You never cared before!" to "We can't afford it." (Funny. We "afforded" $1500 for him to go to a reunion 50 miles from home.)
As he walked out the door to go to the reunion (because he came home and slept with me for two nights after his first go-around with OW--but no worries, he didn't cheat on her with me; that would have been wrong), I begged him not to go, to instead use the money on a weekend away for us. He stood in the kitchen, looking at me for a minute, and said, "Fuck you."
Next, he took OW to the hotel where we had our wedding reception--they spent both nights of the reunion there with her. When I asked him how it felt to be back in the hotel he'd last been in with me when we were married, he said, "I was kind of bummed I didn't come, but I took a shower and went to sleep." (This time around, they didn't spend the nights in the same room; she skulked back to her room to sleep. Didn't want any classmates figuring out what was going on.)
His response, when told how much this hurts me---how I can no longer look at the pictures of our wedding without seeing her there with him---he sort of snorted and said, laughingly, "I'm sorry, Bets. I'm trying, but I don't see what the big deal is."
3. Before going to OW's city for an "interview" I am not even sure occurred (he was fired right after d-day, but eked into disability before his severance period expired; I don't believe the Boston office of the firm that just canned him and from whom he was working to get disability benefits would invite him for an interview), I triggered terribly. He swore he would not see her, that he would be available when not in the interview. (He wasn't, btw. But there was "lousy cell reception.") I was beside myself--really losing it---and he recorded my horrible meltdown on his iPhone "so I can show you how crazy you are later." (Sadly, I was well aware how crazy I was; it was the worst aspect of all of this.)
In fact, he did meet OW during that trip. (He denied this, sharing finally on--of all days--the Valentine's Day right after we separated. I guess he felt the need to make that one as crappy as he'd made all the others.) And I am quite certain his recording of my meltdown was shared with her.
4. He brought OW to SI so she could read my posts. They both really kind of reveled in my pain. (I can't understand this---if my partner found this to be entertaining, it would scare the shit out of me; that NEITHER of them thought, "This is really wrong" ...well, says an awful lot.)
5. But worst was the incessant gaslighting he engaged in from the moment...well, for our entire marriage. He married me because I loved him and he "wasn't sure anyone else ever would." He started his quest to find out about 3 years into our marriage. He left around our 24th anniversary. During the intervening years, he wore a mask--and hid who he was really well. Whenever I saw a crack, he gaslighted the living daylights out of me.
And it caused me to very nearly lose my mind, when I found out.
ETA: Oh! How could I forget the STDs?! I was very, very sick for a very, very long time. (The infection colonized my throat, and no one thought to culture for one of the more unusual STDs.) I could not lie down without secretions making me feel I was drowning. I could not SPEAK for a year. I had such a bad cough it cracked ribs.
And never once did he suggest STD testing. My annual Pap finally showed it, but it was not identified as an STD for me. Lucky WH! He got another decade and a half to mindfuck me. (No other part of me was getting fucked; remember, he was "too sick.")
When my current gyne told me it was exclusively an STD (as was another STD I had around the same time), I confronted. His response was anger. He pretended he wanted to R, pretended he was doing what he "had" to do (while really not)---but mostly seethed and plotted his LTA instead (punctuating things with a few ONSs and AFF assignations along the way).
[This message edited by solus sto at 3:17 PM, November 13th (Tuesday)]