Spouse of 37 years was UNFAITHFUL with my CLOSEST COMPANION, so I cut

I wish you enjoy the tale.

Spouse of 37 years was unfaithful with my closest companion, so I cut off contact with

her.

Now she is in poor health, yet I still struggle to pardon her disloyalty.

And I ghosted her.

Now she's dying, and I still can't forgive her.

I've been wrestling with a story I'm not proud of, thought maybe writing it here might

ease the knots in my chest or, hell, just make sense of it all.

I, 78 male, have spent the last 13 years resenting the woman I was married for 37 years

because she broke a trust one never imagined could be broken.

Now she's dying and I've been forced to look at the man I've become, a man who can't

find it in himself to forgive even as death comes knocking.

So my wife, Eleanor, and I were married for a solid 37 years when everything changed.

We had four kids, a busting family life, and from the outside, we looked like one of those

couples who had it all figured out.

We'd gone through our share of struggles, financial struggles, balancing work, and raising

four kids.

Lost my father and her mother within a month, saw each kid through one phase or another,

and yet through it all, we were partners.

Almost 13 years from today, it was on the night of our youngest daughter's wedding.

Ellie and I were drinking wine on the rooftop of the resort where the wedding took place.

It was a beautiful, surreal moment.

We both were reminiscing about our lives, our kids' childhood, their milestones, and how

far we had come in our life.

Being married for 37 years isn't a cakewalk, it was an emotional moment for us.

We were in tears, saying a lot of I love yous, thanking each other for all that support,

and apologizing for our past behaviors.

It was then that she dropped the bombshell.

She suddenly went silent and said, I want to tell you something that has been eating

me for decades.

I thought she was going to talk about the fallout with her mother months before she died

or something of that sort, but she was pale like she was stealing herself.

She went on to say, remember that trip with Tom and his family in Florida.

I said, yes.

When the kids were still in middle school and junior school, we went on a family vacation

with Tom and his family, wife, and kids.

She said, the last night in Florida when you and Marie, Tom's wife, went to sleep, he

and I still sat on the porch by the lake and drank beer.

I don't know what it triggered it, maybe the alcohol or the serenity of the gushing

lake at night were simply the loneliness.

Because you used to be so busy those days, we got distracted.

My heart sank, and I asked her what does that mean.

She said they were discussing and sharing stuff about our lives, emotional stuff, and one

thing led to another, and she and my so-called best friend made their way to the attic and,

well, she didn't need to say the details.

I got it.

I didn't yell.

I didn't scream.

I didn't even respond.

I sat there in disbelief.

It was just a moment ago I was feeling myself to be the luckiest man in the world and now

everything got shattered in a blank.

She caressed my arms and asked if I was fine.

Her touch disgusted me and I involuntarily shrugged her off.

She started sobbing again and said, I promise it was just one time, and we're extremely

guilty of it.

As soon as we realized what we had done, we retracted and pushed back to our rooms and

agreed never to speak of it again and never to let it happen again.

She had buried this secret in her heart thinking to take it to the grave, but that night

for whatever reason, maybe guilt, maybe some twisted sense of honesty, she decided to

tell me.

I sat there quietly remembering that trip and the journey back home from Florida.

The memory was faded and I couldn't remember any odd behavior from any of them.

They pulled it off so well.

She nudged me for a response, but I didn't say a word.

We both sat there in silence.

Her presence used to be soothing, but now it was suffocating me.

I got up and went back to the room.

She silently followed me, I stretched on the bed and she laid beside me, and it killed

me from inside to share the bed with her.

She was saying something that I barely heard.

I was lost in my thoughts.

Just one question, how could she?

And that too was my best friend.

I had one friend throughout my life, and it was Tom, and then I got to know he wasn't

exactly my friend.

I felt so stupid I discussed my personal life problems with them.

I wanted to disappear.

She wanted to hug me, but I turned the other side and dozed off.

The next morning, we were supposed to leave.

We both were unusually quiet.

The children thought we were fun.

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Fighting over some silly stuff and they left us alone.

They hugged us and we left for the airport.

The dirty part is so blurry.

I was so engrossed in my thoughts.

I don't remember any bit of the transit.

We were traveling with our younger son and his family.

We lived in the same town.

He dropped us home and it was already evening by then.

As soon as we were alone, she started crying, saying my silence was killing her.

She held my arm and said, please talk to me.

Say what you're thinking.

I thought our marriage is strong to sustain this.

We've been through worse, didn't we?

All I said was, let's rest.

I'm feeling dizzy from the travel.

When I went to my study, locked up myself and slumped on the couch.

It was my den.

Whenever I needed to cope up with something, I used that space to unwind and recharge.

I wanted to vanish into thin air and what options I had.

I remembered my older brother had moved into our ancestral farmhouse.

I wasn't in touch with him ever since I got married to Ellie.

She and him weren't fond of each other.

When I was still dating her, my brother had a disagreement with her over something.

It's been so many years.

I don't remember the exact incident.

I think it was when he made a move with Ellie's friend at a party.

Since then, we're not in touch.

He didn't even attend to my wedding.

Let's just say they both resented each other.

I hesitantly called him and said I wanted to move back to the countryside to our father's

farmland.

It was not that I was asking him for his permission.

I also had my share in that property.

I thought he would still be bitter towards me.

Surprisingly, he was calm and understanding.

He asked how come my sophisticated wife wants to give away her city life for the countryside.

Not that he would have stopped Ellie, but you know, no one wants to be around someone

they don't like, especially during their retirement phase.

I said I'm moving there alone.

Maybe he understood what was going on.

He didn't ask any further questions, and I said I could take the other house across

the street.

I was lying vacant ever since.

Back then, I was running a store after my retirement.

I put up the store for sale.

The adjacent store owner bought the lease.

It took me a week to sort all that stuff out.

Until then, I was mostly put in my study or went out for walks.

I avoided Ellie as much as possible.

I ate outside or brought takeaways.

She would slip a note in my study.

We'll come down to this stronger.

We've been through a lot more than this.

We can sail through this with lots of I love you sent I miss yous.

Then on Sunday, when Ellie was in the church, I shipped away my stuff, which was mostly

books, some clothes, and my piano to the farm.

When I took my car and drove off reaching there in four days, spending the nights in a hotel.

I switched off my number knowing she would call me as soon as she came back to my empty house.

She tried everything to reach me, but there were no means she could have done that.

She didn't know where I was.

I had changed my number and deleted my social accounts.

I went dark and ghosted her completely.

To this day, I don't know if I was running away from the trail or just trying to erase

it from my existence by disappearing myself.

Eventually, she reached out to the children.

They tried to lodge a missing complaint, but the cops rolled out any foul play saying

I voluntarily left.

I left everything to her.

The house, the retirement money we had saved the rental yield we were getting from two

properties I had invested in after wrapping up my business.

I didn't want anything but peace.

I had a fish supplies business back in the day.

One of the children grew up and were free from our responsibilities.

I wrapped up the business and invested in some high yielding rental properties.

I wanted to lead a peaceful and quiet life.

I went to store in sold fish, aquariums and stuff.

Life seemed good.

Bam, really hit me and everything changed overnight.

I abandoned the life and family I had built over the years and moved to my homeland several

states and miles away.

They had no idea about my whereabouts until my niece, brother's daughter, visited him.

She told my son about it and that's how everyone got to know.

Staying with my brother in my native country was the last thing that crossed their mind

because of my difference with him.

She then sent me a letter pleading for forgiveness.

My daughter even visited me to understand what was going on.

I said they should ask their mother about it.

I let her tell her version.

She told the truth to the kids, thinking they could mediate.

Initially, they were upset with her mother.

However, seeing her suffer, they melted and won by one they reached out, asking why I couldn't just forgive her and why I was holding on so tight to the past.

I told them I needed time.

They tried several means to reconcile us, inviting me to the family get together and their life events.

I never showed up.

This episode is brought to you by Spreaker, the platform responsible for a rapidly spreading condition known as podcast brain.

Symptoms include buying microphones you don't need, explaining RSS feeds to confused relatives and saying things like,

sorry, I can't talk right now, I'm editing audio.

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Anniversary of my children, the birth of my grandkids, their birthdays and milestones, everything I left behind.

Then my youngest son flew to me saying mom was wrecked without me and that she was desperate for forgiveness.

I told her it was something I couldn't just hand over.

Not like that, I stayed out of reach, though every now and then curiosity got the better of me and I'd sneak a glance at a family photo or check on her by trolling through Facebook via fake account.

She hasn't been active lately.

I stayed away, never letting her or anyone know that I still watched over them.

It was 13 years later, two months back, that her deli was sick, terminal.

The doctor said it's a matter of few months.

My son called me telling me it was time to come back, that she didn't have enough time.

I couldn't bring myself to do it.

The rage still simmered beneath the surface, the betrayal fresh as ever.

I know she wants to see me, want some kind of closure.

I can't stand the thought of being by her bedside pretending to forgive her for something I can't forget.

The image of her and Tom in the attic is still burning in my mind.

I can't help but imagine every family barbecue, every Christmas, every birthday.

Tom and I standing together, sharing laughs.

All of it was a lie, or at least it felt that way to me now.

I can't let that go.

The kids, of course, are siding with her, told me I was being unreasonable.

I'm too harsh, they said.

She's being punished enough, dad.

They don't understand that it isn't about punishment.

It's about the fact that I've been lied to for decades, humiliated without even knowing it.

Tom was supposed to be my friend and yet he and my wife had shared a secret I was never supposed to know.

How could I just let that go?

Yesterday, my daughter's video called me and pleaded for one last time that I should go and meet Ellie.

She's on her deathbed and she wants to see me the last time.

She's not even in a condition to be taken here.

I felt like a time bomb ticking in my chest.

They even said if I don't meet her before she's gone, they all would cut ties with me forever.

It didn't take offense as it's coming from a place of pain.

I know my children are deeply hurt to see their mother in the condition and they partly blame me

for her deteriorating health.

Honestly, deep down, I also know that I'm being unreasonable.

If things were fine between us, maybe she would have lived longer.

She was fitter and healthier than me.

She was and looked younger than me, but her guilt had rotten her to death.

I don't know why I'm writing it here.

Maybe just to get it off my chest because I know people would have mixed opinions on this.

Only I know what's going on inside me.

I think she don't want her to die.

I also don't want to forgive her or let her see my face.

Edit to address some of the comments.

Yeah, right, we're still married.

I didn't divorce her, didn't want to face her ever again.

So technically she's still my wife.

And if I count these 13 years where I ghosted her, we've been married for 50 years.

Dang, this was one of our dreams when we were dating to celebrate our 50th with kids and grandkids.

We used to laugh at our stupid wish, but see it actually come true.

We remained married for 50 long years, but sadly, we can't celebrate our marriage any longer.

Well, yeah, that's definitely not how you see yourself celebrating 50 years of marriage.

It's unfair for your children to partly blame you when she was one who made all the decisions to cheat on you.

Just because she's on her deathbed doesn't mean it's the time to be forgiven.

I mean, you can't be forgiving people just because someone's telling you to do it.

Just know that whatever decision you make is about what feels true to you.

And that's all anyone can ask.

She's gone been a month.

I was there right beside her bed, saw her take her last breath.

If you've read my original post, you'd know I wasn't ready to go.

Days after that call with my daughter, I battled myself.

The image of Ellie alone, sick and dying, keep haunting me.

I'd spent so many years avoiding her, bearing the pain that I'd become more of a ghost than a man.

I couldn't tell that what I was anymore.

Then one morning, something in me snapped.

Maybe it was guilt, or maybe I was finally ready.

I booked a ticket home.

Walking into her hospital room was like stepping back into a life I had tried to leave behind.

She looked so fragile, so different from the woman I'd known.

Her face lit up when she saw me and she started to cry and in her breaking tone whispered,

I'm so sorry.

I've spent every day regretting what I did to you.

For the first time in 13 years, I cried.

I held her fragile hands and cried.

Her wrists felt like a pile of bones wrapped in skin.

We sat there crying and lamenting.

It was a moment of reckoning, the two of us staring down a lifetime of hurt.

She kept asking me to forgive her, tears strewn down her face, and I don't know if I had it in me.

We cried, we held hands, but I still felt anger, like a poison running through my veins.

I wanted to stop her from dying.

I also didn't want to forgive her.

She pleaded with me to stay with her in her final days, to be by her side as she passed.

She said she couldn't leave this world knowing I was still so full of pain.

I told her I'd try and for a while I did stay.

We talked about the kids, about the years we'd spent together.

Sometimes I'd catch glimpses of the life we used to have before that night had poisoned it all.

She asked me again and again for forgiveness and I would say, I'm here, aren't I?

And let's not talk about it.

It was never the forgiveness she wanted.

I couldn't give her that, not fully.

I tried, but I couldn't lie to her or myself.

Then one day something I hadn't anticipated happened.

Tom showed up.

I was sitting in the park opposite the care home.

He came and sat beside me and my body went cold.

I hadn't seen him since before Ellie's confession.

He looked older and tired, like he'd carried the weight of this secret just as long as she had.

He asked if we could talk.

I didn't want to, but something compelled me to listen.

I didn't nod or say anything, just sat there, staring at the ground.

He started off by saying, I'm sorry, I've wanted to tell you for years.

I was too much of a coward.

He talked about the guilt, how it had eaten away at him, how he'd felt like a fraud every

time we got together.

He went on to say, after you left, Ellie told me that she had confessed to you and that

you have left her.

I couldn't forgive myself for ruining your marriage.

I couldn't take the guilt anymore.

And I confessed the truth to Maria.

She's also got separated.

And my children also despise me for years.

It was only two years back when my grand-kids was born.

My daughter contacted me and I went to meet them.

This episode is brought to you by Spreaker, the platform responsible for a rapidly spreading

condition known as podcast brain.

Symptoms include buying microphones you don't need, explaining RSS feeds to confused relatives,

and saying things like, sorry, I can't talk right now, I'm editing audio.

If this sounds familiar, you're probably already a podcaster.

The good news is Spreaker makes the whole process simple.

You record your show, upload it once, and Spreaker distributes it everywhere people listen.

Apple podcasts, Spotify, and about a dozen apps your cousins swears are the next big

thing.

And better, Spreaker helps you monetize your show with ads, meaning your podcast might

someday pay for, well, more microphones.

Start your show today at spreaker.com.

Spreaker, because if you're going to talk to yourself for an hour, you might as well

publish it.

Since then, they started making me a part of the family events.

It feels terrible to be disgusted by your kids.

I can feel for Ellie what she must be going through.

Trust me.

I regret that moment every second of my life.

I never met her after you left.

The guilt was so bad.

I wish I could go back in the past and undo that stuff.

He cried and dang it, I cried too.

There was this outburst of emotions, these brutal, terrible emotions, like the years of

anger and bitterness had finally reached their breaking point.

At that moment, I realized that he had suffered too, maybe not like I had.

He'd paid his own price.

Seeing him broken, apologetic, took something out of me and stripped me down to the bone.

It didn't erase the hurt, but it did make me see that they'd both been human and they'd

both been haunted by that one night in a way I hadn't fully understood.

When her condition worsened, he came to visit her.

No talks, just silent tears from all three of us.

The night she passed, I held her hand, feeling both love and betrayal mixed into one twisted

dot inside of me.

When she breathed her last breath, I felt the last of that anger rise up, the final wave

of bitterness before it all settled like dust after a storm.

I was left with this hollow, aching sadness, not just for what she'd done, but for what

we'd lost, and, in a way, for what I'd lost by not letting go sooner.

Now she's gone and I'm here, an old man with nothing except memories.

The kids still think I was too harsh.

Be there right.

However, in my bones, I know I did what I had to do.

I loved Ellie, but I couldn't look at her the same after she betrayed me.

Some wounds cut too deep to heal, and some forgiveness is too much to ask for.

Whatever I left to her, she left it back to me.

The kids, the house, the properties, I really don't want any of it.

Nothing makes sense to me now.

What I'm gonna do with all that stuff?

I built it so that we both could enjoy it together, but now there's no point.

It's just a matter of years or maybe months before I'm gone too.

My heart feels heavy and sad.

I'm yet to make terms with the fact that she's gone.

Maybe I shouldn't have come.

I shouldn't have seen her in that miserable state.

It's haunting me.

I'm not sure what I want to accomplish by writing about my emotional state here.

Maybe I wanted to understand my own choices, or maybe I wanted to see if anyone else could

feel the same.

Could you forgive someone after so long, or does there come a point where forgiveness

is just a lie we tell ourselves to get through the day?