So, I read his phone, discovered he was cheating on me with the woman who rents our apartment from us. Lovely.
He swore it had only been going on since February 2016 it was now November 2016. He said he thought he loved her. That he loved me too but wasn’t “in love” with me. He said it might be for the best as we had been together so long. He raced ahead to the future and started telling me that he could watch the kids whilst I went out on dates. It would be all civilized and he would ask how my date went….? WTF?! He’d obviously moved on and I was playing catch up!
Each night was tortuous. We’d talk. I’d think we were getting somewhere then another question would come to me . So I’d ask him. “Did you use protection?” (I was convinced my ongoing UTI could quite easily be chlamydia or a sexually transmitted disease – wouldn’t have been the first time.) “Where did you meet?”, “Has she been in our house?” Have you slept together in this house?” “How did it start?” – they went away together to work on a job for his friend’s wedding. He told me she was helping out with providing equipment (that I transported in my car to the depot whilst his mum baby sat our 2 month old daughter) but he did not tell me that she was going too. He’d talked about us all going but I said I couldn’t face the drive. Not with a young baby. So me and kids stayed at home whilst he was away ‘working’.
Whether this was when it started or not I don’t really care to believe one way or another. They’d worked together for a few years before this so anything could have happened. I do know, as I wrote in my previous post, that she was seeing his mate and mutual colleague, who helped us repair our house before we moved in during November 2013, and all of a sudden they fell out. I was told because the mate – lets call him ‘Harry’ – was insanely jealous and possessive of Bitch and she asked him to come round to calm him down and to protect her as Harry was kicking off and battering on the door. I have since spoken to Harry. He tells a similar story but with a completely different outcome.
Harry did go round to see Bitch but she wasn’t in. He waited in a local pub and then tried her door again as he could see there was now lights on but there was no answer…. He went round to the back of the house and looked in the window and seen the two of them having wine and dinner together, laughing and having a good old time. I think that is maybe when Harry got upset and confronted them.
Harry also told me a few other things that made me see things differently. A story can be told in many different ways. The same story with slightly changed or augmented details can make all the difference. Don’t I know it now!
I do believe that Bitch flung herself at him. That it was too good a opportunity to resist. I will need to ask her who made the first move… But thinking about it with the new found ‘twisted logic’ I now have thanks to him, I bet it was him who tried to kiss her in the taxi and not the other way round. Easy pray. Slightly vulnerable. Willing to trust but quite independent. A fucking, self-aware sucker!
For someone to be so adept at lying and pulling of all this kind of stuff must have taken years of practice. Slowly building up to the big one. The one where his balls get drained that much that he can’t help but be with her. She won’t even get a say in it. She will think it was her choice to let him move in. But think back – how did it come about? Was it planned and you set a moving in date? Did you tell your parents and friends he was planning on moving in? Did you choose furniture together or ask him what stuff he would be bringing with him? Any photos? Any books? A CD collection? Bike? Nike trainers collection? No, none of that. I bet he just turned up unannounced.
That’s what Slutface told me when I confronted her. That he just turned up on her doorstep. That I’d moved back home after his mum told me he and Slutface were serious! Yet this was after I’d apparently given them my blessing to go to Berlin together at the start of November 2016. Sorry, I thought he was away working on a tour of the UK and Iceland with a famous singer! My mistake!
He told both me and Bitch that he was away on this tour and that he was in Reykjavik. He described how he had to pack up the tour bus, what it was like sleeping on the bus, getting the crates of equipment to the airport, packing up just the essential as they couldn’t take what they would normally do. He sent me texts describing Reykjavik as just like a big Stornoway. How he couldn’t wait to get home. That he missed me and the kids. Bitch was getting the same kind of texts but with more kisses at the end. Oh, and she got pictures too. Very rare for me to get a picture text. All lies! Yes, he was offered the contract but he turned it down. Instead he spent different nights in different homes within a 1 mile radius of each other before flying off to Berlin with Slutface then spending another last night with her back at her flat to finish of their holiday. Well done. I hope he enjoyed his “once in a lifetime treat” of dinner up the Berliner Fernsehturm TV tower. Did it taste better second time around?
So, going back to the supposed start of all this, April 2015… I had recently given birth. A traumatic birth where my waters broke but nothing happened, then I got induced but still nothing happened, then they cranked up the drugs and I started to push but too quickly for the doctors’ liking, then they kept losing her heart beat and told us I may need a caesarean, then I just had to push as my whole body was telling me to and they are telling me not to, and I’m only 5cm dilated, but out she comes and the umbilical cord is wrapped round her neck. Job done but not without worry and panic. When I was going through that was he already leading his double/triple/quadruple life? Thinking of her when his daughter was being born? Our daughter then turned blue after she was place on my breast for skin-to-skin contact. I had to shout the midwife. It was not the worst birth story but it was far from easy. Nothing had went as planned.
Within months he was fucking someone else. Nice start to our kid’s life. And nice contributing factors to my suspected post natal depression. I’m going to baby massage classes and he is away abroad shagging another woman! I’m up during night trying to breast feed my daughter who is never sated and he’s still not home. He is out at work all the time ‘earning’ as he now has two mouths to feed. His mother and my mother are round quite often helping me out as I can’t manage two children. I never asked for help with my first baby. I only remember one time asking my dad to come round and take my son out a walk as I was so damn tired and just needed to sleep. This time I couldn’t manage anything; the laundry, making dinner, tidying, getting out to shops. I was on my own completely or so it felt. He had opted out but I couldn’t see it as he made a good tale of blaming it on other things. All these monthly stock-takes he was doing for the pub, catching and dealing with rats in the pub, doing the ordering, dealing with colleagues ineptitude and how he’d have to stay late to finish what hadn’t been done, how his boss was rotten at organising anything, staying behind to sort out his wages. Drinking and fucking in the kitchen or back office more like it. Meeting Bitch in the place he works and having drinks and a snog with her in public whilst I am sat at home waiting on him coming in. Yes, that’s very fair. No wonder my anxiety levels were through the roof. He said he’d be finishing at 5pm but didn’t get home until 7 hours later… He was just having a quick drink after work – 2am, how time flies!