Living in the aftermath of discovering my husband’s infidelity was like trudging through a never-ending storm. My name is Maya, 54, and Steven, 55, and I have been for nearly two years.
All along I thought we were all happy and on the same page until I accidentally discovered he was cheating on me.
One day he was in the shower when a message came through on his phone.
I absentmindedly picked up the device and read it.
Okay! Before you all jump to conclusions, I was NOT snooping! Steven’s and my phones were the same, and we’d gotten them about two days before. So the messaging and ringtones were still the preset ones. The message my husband received read:
“Can’t wait to meet up with you later for dinner. But dessert is the part of the menu that I most look forward to.”
My husband was taking a quick after-work shower because he allegedly had a “work meeting” with clients later on. In my denial, I took the number down. I decided to call the person who texted before confronting Steven or assuming the worst.
I acted normal when my husband, all dressed up and smelling good, said, “I’ll be late coming home. Don’t wait up for me, okay?” He kissed me goodbye, and as he drove off, I watched him through the window.
I dialed the number that had texted him earlier.
