One Final Note From a Woman in a Loveless Marriage, and a Dangerous Relationship with a Rich Older Man

When I called my hus­band, Robert, to come and pick me up, he knew exactly where I had been—at my lover, Derrick’s, house. Robert asked me why I was there and all I could say was that I came to say good­bye. It must have been my tone, or per­haps the sad­ness in my eyes, or very likely the somber vibe in my walk, but for the first time, he didn’t ask any­more ques­tions. We drove all the way home with­out a word.

When we finally got home, he parked in the dri­ve­way. He turned the car off and we both just sat there. Even­tu­ally one of us—I don’t remem­ber who—opened the car door and the other fol­lowed. We walked inside and sat on the liv­ing room sofa. The mood was melan­cholic and he knew some­thing was up.

Do you want to talk?” he asked politely.

You know I love you very much, right?” I asked. When he nod­ded, I con­tin­ued. “I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have. Some­thing hap­pened, and it’s really best if you don’t know, but I have to leave—”

For how long?” he inter­rupted. When I didn’t say any­thing, his face grew sad. “You mean a divorce?”

I nod­ded my head and he got teary-eyed. “After every­thing I have put you through, you deserve bet­ter,” I said. “I can’t give you the love I promised. I broke our vows time and time again. And while I honor the fact that you have stood by me for so long, it’s time we both move on. We deserve hap­pi­ness. Too much hurt has tran­spired. We can never make it right. We will always, always remem­ber the past. Never for­get that it’s all my fault, so don’t ever blame your­self for my mis­takes. I was stu­pid and blind. You, Robert, are an amaz­ing man. It just took me too long to see it because I was wrapped up in the wrong man.”

We spoke for hours until he came to the real­iza­tion that, despite the pain, I was right. He didn’t want to give up on us until he real­ized there was never really an “us”—I never gave us a chance. And then it hap­pened. We smiled at past mem­o­ries, laughed at our mis­takes, and cried about the dreams we could never make come true. By the end of the night, we both had a greater respect for one another and we were both able to move forward.

I moved out a week later and he filed for divorce. The papers read, “Irrec­on­cil­able dif­fer­ences.” What it should have said was some­thing like, “Love­less marriage—wife cheats and destroys many lives.”

Robert and I decided that despite the love, and because of our his­tory together, we could never be friends. We wished each other well and moved on with our lives. I never looked back—I sim­ply couldn’t. I had killed my baby, and to this day, I will never know if it was my husband’s or my lover’s. The fact that it could have been my husband’s haunts me every night.

As far as Der­rick is con­cerned, I have no clue where he is in life. I don’t ask and I don’t care. I changed my num­ber and cut ties with him completely—finally. I am cer­tain he has found another young woman to please his soul, and for the first time, I am com­pletely fine with the thought.

My life had to fall apart in order for me to start over. I am happy now and I’m deal­ing with my demons. I am doing the best that I can, given my his­tory. And while I still have a thing for older men, I will make sure to work on myself first before I fall deep.