Wednesday, April 24, 2024

I CONFESS: Left my hubby for a married man

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I MARRIED my high school sweetheart. I believe we were boyfriend and girlfriend since we were about 14 or so.

I slept with him when I was 16. It was my birthday gift to him.

But he was all mine and was still mine when we got married five years later at the age of 21. He really loved me and was devoted to me.

Our first two years were wonderful. Everyone said what a cute couple we were and how compatible we were.

He was overjoyed . . . and I was deliriously happy.

One thing we both agreed – that we would not have children – at least not immediately. I believe we were selfish and didn’t want anything in the way, so to speak.

That is – until Rog entered the picture. Rog is not his real name, but let’s call him that.

Rog was just the opposite of my husband. I met him one night at a party. He was there with my brother.

He was what I called smooth, dark, good looking, a good talker, bright, had the sexiest eyes . . . and with all the love I thought I felt for my husband, this man swept me off my feet.

Oh – there is one thing I forgot to mention – he was also very married with two children.

I was so struck, however, that that didn’t seem to worry me. I too, was married, wasn’t I?

To cut a long story short – Rog and I began an affair.

For a year we met secretly, went to far out places, made love and so on.

I began to lose interest in my husband. My affair with Rog became so intense that we began talking about leaving our respective partners.

In fact, after much discussion, we made the decision.

I remember well – it was a Friday night. We went to dinner at a way out restaurant – the plan was that at the end of dinner, I would go home and tell my husband I was leaving, and he would do the same at his home.

I was so excited, yet slightly afraid. Rog was exciting and this would be the start of an exciting new life for me. I suppose I had been with one man for too long . . . He had become boring, perhaps.

Anyway, I sped home and broke the news to my husband as gently as I could. He was devastated to say the least.

I won’t get into the details of the conversation . . . but over at Rog’s house, just the opposite was happening.

He told me later when he got home and was “lovingly” greeted by his children, he got cold feet.

There was his wife, a woman he claimed he had no more feelings for, in the kitchen baking and the children jumping all over him – he couldn’t break the news, he said.

So there I was, in a hotel room where we had planned to meet, without a husband, but my lover still had his family.

I have never felt so devastated in my life . . . . It would be too much to explain. I thought I would kill myself.

It’s now more than 20 years later. I eventually got over that part of my life . . . but here’s an update.

My husband and I never got back to together. I never remarried. I turned to my career and I am now very happy; I am now dating a man who is also married – to his career. I suppose we make a good match.

And Rog – he is still married to the same woman – I hear he still looks good and probably is still breaking other hearts.

He now lives in Boston, United States, and I live in Atlanta.

I hardly come home to Barbados, but whenever I do, the memories are fresh.

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