Red Flags & D-Day

I knew. I knew something was wrong. I didn’t know what but call it instinct.

All those times I asked him what was wrong, asked if anything was going on. If he was seeing someone. Why did he have an Ashley Madison account?


I knew. I knew something was wrong. I didn’t know what but call it instinct.

All those times I asked him what was wrong, asked if anything was going on. If he was seeing someone. Why did he have an Ashley Madison account?

Me warning him about Bitch and how I didn’t like him spending time with her. He talked about her quite a lot when I was pregnant. I knew he was spending too much time in her company and it worried me enough to mention it to his mother. Me and her were quite close and she has helped me a lot through the years. She told me to keep an eye on it…

He raged when I accused him of screwing someone else. He stormed out. A sure sign to me he was hiding something. Why be so defensive if you are completely innocent?  Too close to the truth.  I never imagined the other woman would turn out to be the person it was.  I was imagining a random stranger or someone he had met in the pub where he worked…

I said to him to leave if he wanted. But he didn’t. Fucking coward. So selfish. He didn’t want it all tumbling down.

I’d have more respect for him if he’d been honest. What was he protecting me from? This? This feeling of death?  This feeling of despair?  This feeling of heartache, brutal betrayal, sickness and complete annihilation?  Thank you.  A sit-down, honest, grown-up conversation could have saved us and our children from going through this evil turmoil.  It would still have been unpleasant but a conversation along the lines of; “I’m not sure about us.”, “Maybe we need a break.”, “I’m struggling with life, I need to find myself.”, “Can you give me some space, some time.” “I have a confession, I made a mistake and I slept with someone.” “I think I have fallen for someone else.” “I don’t think our love is strong enough to carry us anymore…”  Any one of those lines, at any point, before I uncovered the ugly truth would have saved my heart. It would have been broken still but it would not have been ground and trampled, discarded and ignored.  If he’d said, “I’ve been shagging someone I work with.” A captive audience for his lies.  His lies were his downfall. The lies about his dad tripped him up. Different stories for different people. Cast the net wide and see what fish flounder by.

I’d been suspicious for a while. I’d lost trust in him before back in 2004 when I discovered he’d been cheating on me with a woman he worked with. He swore they never slept together. I stupidly believed him or convinced myself to believe him.  We split up for 7 months then got back together. I became pregnant after 3 months of being back together… That is another story I will tell in due course.

I was suspicious mainly because of his attitude to his phone. He always had it on him or in his hand. It never rang but he was always busy on it. Taking it to the bathroom with him. Getting up in the morning and it was the first thing he reached for. Glued to it rather than interacting with our children. Rather than paying attention to me. Sitting in the same room as me texting them. Making plans. Asking what hours I was working so he could message each of them and plan his schedule in front of me. Sniggering to himself about how sown up he had all this. Having his cake and eating it then going back for seconds. How dare he treat me like this!

He slipped up. He left it charging in the bedroom unattended. The very fact it wasn’t on his person was surprising in itself. I’d seen him swipe his passcode a few times so knew what pattern it was. There was a text just came in from Bitch. I read it! How much she missed him and couldn’t wait to see him. The love yous and kisses at end of each message. I felt sick. I went dizzy. I scrolled through some of the rest. I understood. He’s fucking having an affair with the women who rents our old apartment from us! The room spun. I couldn’t breathe. It’s been going on for a while judging by the number of texts. I was reading them but not fully processing the words. Skimming through their life together, their plans. What the hell!

I put the phone back down and descended the stairs. He could tell I was upset but I just said I didn’t feel too good.  I’d been suffering with the start of a urine infection (cystitis) for a few days before this and it was pretty agonising. I blamed it on this. I kept having to run to the loo feeling like I needed to pee all the time. I headed upstairs again and this time took the phone into the bathroom with me. He must have realised and came up after me shouting “Where’s my phone?!”, “Give me my phone!”. He kicked the bathroom door in with rage. I was terrified. His face was black and scowling fiercely, like he was an unhinged psychopath. I was shocked and scared. He obviously had plenty to hide.

I left to go to work. We’d argued in hushed tones all that morning, me in shock, him trying to answer my questions or bat them away. I left early and went round to the apartment she rented from us. No anwser. I remembered that when I was scanning through the texts I kept seeing the name Rubus pop up. I thought it was the name of her cat possibly. I didn’t read the texts with any clarity but I recalled she used to work in a coffeshop. There was a local coffee shop called Rubus nearby. I drove there.

I had only met her once before when he brought her round to talk about her renting from us. We had a chinese and I went to bed early as I was 7 months pregnant. I couldn’t really remember what she looked like but I plucked up courage went into that small cafe and asked to speak with Bitch. There she was… I quietly asked her for a word. Asked if she knew who I was? I stated in no uncertain terms for her to get out the flat. That she was being evicted and I wanted her out as soon as possible. She had tears in her eyes and her lip started to tremble. She said “Can I Ask why?” Isaid, “I think you know why…” She just sort of nodded. No big drama. I was calm,clear and way to controlled which hopefully came across as sinister.

I went to work. Typed out eviction letters. Got my shit together. Blamed her. How could she do this to another woman?! Blamed him – wha the hell did he think he was doing? I didn’t go home until after 10pm.  I has already arranged to meet my two best friends (one of whom jus happened to be on a rare visit home from abroad). I met them and cried over dinner. Got patched up. Then I went home…

Up until all hours talking. There was me hoping to sort it, asking questions, crying with grief – he never said a thing that made it better. I initially thought I only had one love rival. One other person who turned your head. He led me to believe there was only one woman. Of course he was not going to admit that there was a second or even third woman outright. But once I knew about the second woman I knew I was in for a rough time. I saw him with my own eyes weave the lies. Tie himself up in knots. Keep the plates spinning. I had made the discovery about Slutface around 10 days after confronting him about the first. What a vile pig! Betray me once – fool me, betray me twice – kill me, betray me thrice – be fearful!

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