Chapter 4 - Sunday, D-day +1
Ah, the next day. Two nights without sleep, and I was scheduled to teach Sunday School that morning. I could have called in sick, but I taught the lesson to our young couples' class. I don't remember what it was about, but I do know that I never taught with more passion or more love for God.
I didn't feel much love for anybody when I got home. Wife had not gone to church. I don't remember how we spent the afternoon except that our son got back from his grandparents somehow. He was 3 or so at the time.
This, I don't recommend to anyone. My wife was getting beligerant, defensive. She told me a youth counselor had abused her as a teenager. That made me furious that she would bring it up at the time. What an awful, traumatic thing for her to go through, but she had never told me before, and all I could think was that she was trying to draw attention away from what she had done. She was also telling me what a crappy husband I had been all these years. She was trying to change the subject.
Enough, I thought, and let her have it with a continuous flow of lovebusters (if you don't know what that is, see Dr. Harley's web site, marriagebuilders.com). I asked her if she realized I would have to be treated for STD's. I asked her where our son was when she was (insert inappropriate graphic description of what I was imagining they had done, which pretty much turned out to be correct). What did she think I was doing at work when she was (ditto). Etc., etc. She cried for the first time.
I don't claim that I did the right thing, but during and after that conversation she seemed to realize what she had done and what it had cost, what she had let herself become. I later learned that she had to deal with guilt and self-doubt all during the affair, but soon after she was confronted her walls went up. Coming face-to-face with it, hearing me use words I had never used before, opened her eyes.
One other thing I remember about that day. We rode together to the post-office. I had said I wanted the crap I had found out of our house. She said we should return them to the other guy. I was in the process of telling her that it was out of the question, when I had an idea. I put it in an envelope and addressed to the other guy at his workplace, and put my son's name on the post mark. It wouldn't give anything away, but it would sure as hell send a message to him. Not smart, I know, but it felt good. I had to pay a lot and for a long time for these things I did that felt good at the time.