Any woman who was cheated on and says her self-esteem wasn’t crushed is a goddamn liar...
I stopped reading the “How I Kept My Esteem Intact After the Affair” article and sauntered down the spices aisle.
Pepper...Bay leaves...Parsley...Paprika...Paprika? Ryan’s favorite...
I picked up the paprika and froze. I was supposed to brush the thought of him away as soon as he entered my mind. I was supposed to say, “The collapse of my marriage was not my fault,” take a deep breath, and move on to doing something else.
That didn’t work today.
I felt a soft lump rise up my throat and choked back a sob. I closed my eyes and tried to think of a happy memory, but only the worst one came...
I was trembling, shaking so violently I wasn’t sure how I was standing up straight. I was in my kitchen, staring at Ryan, watching him pick up the incriminating photos off the floor.
“Claire...” He picked up the last one and sighed. “Can we please talk about this?”
“About what?” I hissed.
“About what you...about me having an affair.”
“Oh yes! My husband f**king my best friend! For over a year! Let’s discuss that, shall we?”
“You don’t have to be so loud, Claire. I’m trying to—”
“I can be as loud as I want! You’re having an affair with Amanda! She was my maid of honor for Christ’s sake! I don’t even know where to start, Ryan! How could you?”
“Our daughters are upstairs. We—”
“Our daughters? Our daughters! Don’t try to act like you suddenly give a damn about this family! You weren’t thinking about any of us when your dick was buried in—”
“Enough!” He began to cry and walked over to me. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...I messed up and—”
“You messed up?” I felt my heart constrict.
“Yes...I messed up and I’m—”
“Ryan...” I put my hand over my chest to prevent my heart from jumping out. “Messing up is picking the girls up late from school. Messing up is leaving the chicken in the oven for too long. Messing up is forgetting our anniversary—which is in two weeks, by the way. Cheating on me? Sleeping with my best friend? That’s f**ked up. And it’s unforgivable. How long has it really been going on?”
He sighed and I slowly backed away from our cutlery set.
“Hello? Ryan! How long has it been going on?”
“Claire, listen to me—”
“Tell me! Tell me right now!” I looked away from his eyes because deep down I didn’t really want to know.
“I’ve always had feelings for Amanda...”
My heart gave out and crumbled inside my chest. My knees buckled and my body slumped down to the floor.
He continued, “I had feelings for her but I never acted on them because...” He sat down on the floor. “Because I was in love with you. I never intended to act on those feelings, but last January we were both drinking and one thing led to another and—”
“And you had sex?”
“Yes...And I—”
“Where?”
“Where, what?”
I took a deep breath. “Where did you have sex that time? Where was this happening?”
He avoided my eyes. “Here...You were out of town at that Parker Brothers conference...And I know that I should’ve stopped that day. I should’ve told you, but I couldn’t. I honestly didn’t know how to break it to you because it was more than just sex between us. It was—”
“Are you the father of her baby?” I needed to hear him say it.
He didn’t answer.
“Are you the father of her baby?!” I screamed.
“Yes.” His voice cracked. “I...I’m so sorry you had to find out this way and that I put you through this...I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again. I’ll have to pay her child support, but I’ll let her go. I’ll go to counseling and we can—”
“Are you in love with her?”
“Claire, don’t—”
“Answer me! Are you in love with her?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still love me?”
“Of course I love you, Claire. I—”
“Are you in love with me?”
His silence was the loudest answer he’d given all night. His lack of words unraveled me and forced me to break down right in front of him.
He began talking over my cries, saying words of some kind, but all I could hear was the roaring of blood in my ears, the literal shattering of my heart.
I curled into the fetal position and cried my eyes out. I kept saying, “Get away from me, it’s over,” but he wrapped his cold arms around me and refused to let me go.
I wanted to believe that we could get through this together, that he could fall in love with me again and we could put this affair behind us. But as his clammy fingers caressed my shoulders, I realized that I didn’t trust him anymore. And I didn’t want to hurt myself even more by having to learn how to trust him again.
In the morning, with the one shred of dignity I had left, I calmly told him that I wanted a divorce.
“The collapse of my marriage was not my fault.” I exhaled and opened my eyes.
I felt my phone vibrating and held it up to my ear. “Hello?”