My husband has to go out-of-town tomorrow night.  He rarely ever has to spend an overnight.  He’s only going to be about an hour away, and he has asked me to go with him. The logistics of me going are not easy.  The kids have practice, school, and we are having furniture delivered on Thursday, which I need to be here for.  Essentially I wouldn’t even be there with him 24 hours, closer to 12 hours.  I would be spending the evening with him having dinner and attending an after hours thing and then just spending the night.  It really seems sort of silly for me to go, but he is insisting.

In the past, before the affair, the rare times my husband went out-of-town was actually a treat for me.  I’m sure it was a treat for him too.  Getting away from each other is good for any relationship.  And it was always sort of fun to chat on the phone with each other from separate beds.  The last time he went out of town before the affair, I don’t even think either of us texted.  I’m not even sure we were capable of that.  It was always phone calls.  The very last phone call I received from him on the road that I remember was the day after his first time with her.  He called to say he was on his way home and he must have told me at least ten times he wished I had been there.  At the time, I thought he was just being his usual self, a little romantic, and he did always seem to miss me when he was away.  But, this time, the “I wish you had been here” was all guilt.  I wrote on his FB page that day that  I thought he was the greatest.  It’s still there, November 3, 2010.  Although, it likely began on the 2nd and ended on the 3rd.  I wouldn’t find out for almost three more months what was going on.  And November 3 will always be imprinted on my brain and my heart as the pain of thinking I knew him so well that if something ever went wrong I instinctively would know.  I didn’t know.  I had no idea.  Nothing was off or out-of-place.  Everything was exactly the same, right down to the nightly sex.

I didn’t know him so well that I would instinctively know when something was wrong.

I have no doubt that Bobbie remembers these dates well.  I also have serious doubts that he does.  She wrote on a friend’s FB wall, shortly after me finding out, after the friend posted a link to the venue they had been at that night “One of my favorite memories was there.”  Her dream-my nightmare.  According to her and my husband it was a night of flirting and drinking and so on and so on.  I wonder if it is still one of her favorite memories.

So, tomorrow night, six years to the day, I will be out-of-town with him.  Another work event, a different location, different us.  She gave him a blow job that night.  She asked for more, but he told her no.  He said he couldn’t because he had “me”.  He didn’t say “me” though-he said my name.  He was weak, but not weakened.  He gave in only a little, and in his drunken state it didn’t last long.  What if he had told me as soon as he got home?  What if?   The next time she saw him she “thanked” him for telling her no.  And that was the beginning of her game.  She had to save face because this guy told her no AND she was setting herself up as looking so great.

I’m still wondering what would be different if he had just told me.

But, here’s the good thing, had he not been going out-of-town and asked me to go, I never would have remembered the dates.  Maybe I would have later, but it definitely hasn’t been on my mind.  I will call that success, and another barrier crossed.  It’s November and I hadn’t thought about the fact that this is the month they began their affair.








5 thoughts on “November

  1. Oh man. The first inappropriate email I dug up was on Halloween 2012. She wrote him at 10:30 pm to tell him to put that candy bar down, silly boy. It was at that point he should have told her that she needed to keep her correspondence professional and not familiar, but he was obviously curious. That was the beginning of him having to answer message she sent. As the CEO and owner of several companies, he knows damn well a direct report should never address a boss like this, but so it began. From that point on he treated me like absolute crap. I spent Christmas crying on my bathroom floor after I had gone out of my way to make it a special morning and he got me shit. I was so humiliated. So November thru March they teased each other until they couldn’t handle it anymore and fucked right before my birthday. I cried thru my birthday dinner because I was so confused. He wrote her an email that night saying his dinner guest kind of sucked. So many dates and I remember each one. And she’s an ugly, coarse, vulgar woman he didn’t love.

    We just had two good nights in the city where we met in the 80s. We had a lot of fun, but I did wonder what would have become of me had he and I not met. It was a reunion and I looked around and tried to figure out what was wrong with my picker.

    He goes out of town every week for 2-3 nights to the city near her. (We moved 600 miles away, back to my home, after shit hit) I’m not concerned about her, she made him a punch line and he’s humiliated, but I’ll always be concerned. Last night I know he was with our son, but it’s so demoralizing to realize how much he did right under my nose, down the street, while we looked at an empty dinner plate.

    It’s tough. To focus on those times is painful. But to move forward and not think about them to me seems foolish. I’ll never trust him with the unconditional confidence I had for 25+ yrs, ever again. Does that make me bitter or savvy or jaded?

    1. I think it just makes you healing. All of those feelings are still on my plate at various times, but much less now. But, here’s the thing. At the moment he cut things off with Bobbie he “thought” he loved her. But, he still picked me. Eventually, of course, we found out that she had been with others during the same time period. And, to be honest, I don’t think he wants to go through “this” ever again. Could he cheat again? Of course. Will he? I seriously doubt it. Do I still get nervous? Well, he hasn’t even been out-of-town in a long time, so not really. It’s funny you say you’re not concerned about “her”. I suppose if I ever would be concerned it would absolutely be about my “her”. He would never initiate anything, but I know Bobbie. If she ran into him accidentally, or whatever, “she” would find that extremely romantic to meet up for a last rendezvous. He says he would turn her down, but again, I think she would make that hard for him to do. I mean, this is why she has affairs. The whole romanticizing of the thing. So, do I trust him? Not like I used to, but he knows that, and he gets it. I’m not sure what any of that means, but regardless, I have wasted too much time worry about this whole thing, so I just choose not to do it any longer.

  2. I thought I sent a reply but it’s disappeared – I don’t worry about schmolleen because she scurried away back to her sewer. And it’s been a while since she emailed or called. She’s on her knees in front of someone else glad to have an unpaid hooker around to service him. She’s coarse and blech and vulgar. Dirty. I think she was a status climber. Just really bad at it. With her, the odds are good and the goods are odd. Not sex kitten, just sticky unwashed looking. Fifty and not happy being white in North America with a husband and a pile of healthy kids. I. Want. More. But I only want to take, not earn, and my standards are, well I don’t have any.

    What do you think bobbies end game was? Husband & family? Status? Conquest?

    1. Bobbie was definitely all about wanting more. She was proud of that fact. She wrote a whole blog about how important it was to want more. And standards? Well, obviously no standards. I think her end game was multi-faceted. She saw what I had and wanted that, because she felt her own marriage was lacking. A prime example of envying her neighbor’s grass because she refused to water her own. Status….well, my husband is part-owner of the company and I would say she would have wanted that and the possibility of becoming a partner herself. But, ultimately, it was conquest. I believe more and more than it was really not about him that much at all. She would have grown bored with him eventually when the new wore off and she discovered that he wouldn’t have been into her lifestyle of constant running and concerts and friends. .She wanted to beat me. She wanted to take him to prove that she could, perhaps it was her ultimate challenge. We “were” the epitome of that couple who had it all. For her to be able to destroy that…that was her ultimate goal. The rest was fluff. As I said before, she was truly convinced the day she called that she would prevail. You don’t say the things she did that day and not expect to win. Maybe she thought if she told me she made love to him and it was passionate that would be the breaking point for me. I’m stronger than that, and her. If there’s one thing I knew from the beginning of their affair to the end, it was that as much as she was using him, he was also using her. He was in too deep to get out on his own, and I think we all knew eventually she would give him an ultimatum. I think she just believed that ultimatum would be a play in her favor, when that couldn’t have been further from the truth. It was the nail in her coffin.

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