D-Day was a Weekend…part 1 – Pre D-Day

The day a spouse finds out about an affair, normally (sad, that there is a “normally” to this sort of thing) is referred to as “D-Day”.

 “D” as in death…of an individual, of dreams, and sometimes of a marriage.

My “D-day” was more like an entire weekend.  

It is seared in my brain.  

It started February 7th, 2014.

It’s been 6th months.  I struggle with the 7th of every month. I don’t know how long that date will haunt me, but for now it’s my reality.

On February 6th my husband walked in the door to our home as I was getting ready to put our 9 & 10-year-old children to bed.

He had moved out after the first of the year.  He wasn’t happy.   I had no idea why.  His personality had changed several times over the last year and a half.  And around Christmas I had started to suspect he was “falling” for someone but I had no proof….nor did I ever really think he would be the “type” of man who would cheat…after all, I wouldn’t have married him if I thought he would.

We were in the middle of the worst winter in my 37-year-old memory, so I was becoming angry at all the extra work I now had…being a “single” working mother, shoveling snow twice a day,  helping 2 kids with homework,  cooking dinner, carting kids to practices and games…all while trying to be Miss Mary Sunshine.  I was dying inside.

One night he called.  He was going on vacation. He didn’t want any contact.  He was heading east.  And I knew another snow storm was due to hit us and head that way.  He didn’t care.

So he left.

And I didn’t call.

Or text.

But I went to see an attorney and get my plan in place while he was gone.  Because now I knew things were bad.  What kind of man leaves his wife and children in the middle of snowstorms? And wants no contact? For 10 days?

After 16 years of marriage I was suddenly married to a stranger.

After 10 days of no contact he walked in.  It was 8:30p.m. February 6th.  He talked to the kids.  I was in what had been our bedroom…now my bedroom.   I was sitting on the bed.  He walked in and looked at me for the longest time in silence. It felt like hours.  I couldn’t look at him.  I was too angry. Finally, in a sad voice said “are you so mad at me that you can’t even look at me?”  I looked at him.  Then, he said “I need to talk to you. ”  I told him not that night but asked him to pick another night. He asked if we could talk the next night. I said yes.

After he left I went to bed, not sure what to expect the next day, but prayed (just as I had done) for the truth to be revealed.  No matter what.  I just need the truth.  

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