The penny has dropped
Posted Saturday 2nd August 2014 By Ericka Waller
My husband has finally admitted to having an affair. She's his 25 year old personal assistant. I found out after my six-year-old daughter told me that Megan had been looking after her, on her own, while daddy went out. Megan, I thought.. I know that name. Who knew a penny could hurt so much.
When Gracie said her name, a million tiny clogs clicked in to place, and finally the story was complete, it played out in my head like a car crash, and I could not look away. My life exploded in front of my eyes.
She was the girl in the car that day.
That's the reason her name kept popping up on my LinkedIn account. She was not just viewing my profile. She was having sex with my husband then reading my blogs about how I had become a single parent.
She was reading about the heart she broke.
I do not normally use my daughter's names in my blog, but in this one I will, because they are not things, they are real. Gracie is six, Daisy is four and baby Bliss is just two.
How small they are. How big this penny is for them. They thought their dad was a hero, they thought he could fix anything. He can never fix this.
He said he was leaving as we were rowing so much in front of the children and they deserved better. It sounds so noble, I felt so ashamed. But we we rowed over how often he was out, why he was always looking in the mirror. The new clothes, the late nights, him sleeping on the sofa with his phone in his hand.
Yes, I was a mug, speaking of which, here's the last one I bought him.
I believed in my husband and my marriage vows.I thought love would last forever.
I was wrong.
I sat up all night gazing at my children by the light of the moon, wondering what I could have done to prevent this and what on earth I do now.
A wise friend told me that resentment is swallowing the poison and waiting for the other person to die.
So these are the diamonds my husband bought me
I thought they meant something
They meant nothing
He did not even have to save for them
No sacrifice was made to buy them
They sparkled and faded
And here is the ring I have replaced them with.
It was my great grandmother's wedding ring.
She had five children, and she died with her husband by her side. The only time anyone saw him cry.
My great grandfather fought in the trenches in the first world war. He would never speak of it. Not a single word. He would not share the horrors in his head. "It's not for ladies" he would say "now let's watch Laurel and Hardy."
He was a man, a gentleman, a hero.
These are people to believe in, to draw strength from. There is depth and grit and love in the blood I passed on to my girls. Work and pain and sorrow and strength.
I am going to need the odd phone call my friends, and cake never goes out of date in this house, but do not worry about me. This is the first day of my life. I am found, and he is lost.