I found out my wife was cheating on me less than a month after I had a cancerous mass removed. We’d been married for seven years, and I thought we had something solid. She’s a journalist, and she always kept her phone guarded because of her sources. I never snooped, but one day I needed to check our messages about patio furniture, and her phone was right there.
I saw a text from someone named Will. It said, “Do you want to make it a thing? ” I didn’t recognize the name. I opened the chat, just for a second, and saw him talking about the time they’d spent together, acknowledging that she was married and he was too, and asking if she wanted to make it regular.
I felt sick. I went back to the patio conversation and pretended I hadn’t seen anything. I couldn’t get her phone again for a while, so I didn’t know if she’d replied. I thought about confronting her, but I realized I didn’t trust her enough to get the truth that way.
So I waited for my chance and went through her phone. She had replied to Will, “I don’t think so. That was a one-time thing. ” He tried to convince her, but she refused.
I took screenshots of the messages and his number, sent them to myself, and deleted the evidence. I talked to a divorce lawyer, then confronted her. I asked about the story she was working on. She said she couldn’t tell me.
I told her I knew about Will and the interview. She asked if I’d gone through her phone. I said yes. She tried to make me feel guilty, but I didn’t.
She asked how much I’d seen, and I told her everything. She had to explain. Her story was that she was working on a piece about sex workers. She’d interviewed women and watched how they operated.
Then she decided to get first-hand experience by posing as one of them. She got picked up by a man, spent the night with him, and told him she was a journalist. He didn’t mind. She said they slept together once, with protection, and it was purely physical.
She said she didn’t even enjoy it. I couldn’t believe it. I told her it was ridiculous and unforgivable. I said I’d rather hear she was just horny than that she used “journalism” as an excuse to cheat.
She started crying, and I left. When I came back hours later, I told her not to bother talking unless she had new facts. I had her served with divorce papers. She refused to move out, so we lived together until the court decided who got the house.
The divorce went through without much drama. She got the house. I didn’t fight for alimony because I didn’t want anything tying me to her. But I wasn’t satisfied.
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. She’d released her article by then, and it was good, but I couldn’t let it go. I went to a rival publication and told a writer everything. She connected me with someone else, and a few weeks later, an article came out questioning journalistic ethics.
It didn’t name me as the source, but it included a comment from me saying how disappointed I was in her. She called me, furious, and asked if I’d gone to the publication. I denied it. I said I’d told friends and court workers, and any of them could have leaked it.
She didn’t believe me, but I wouldn’t admit it. She threatened legal action, and I told her not to bother. I had text messages, and I’d back up the claims in court. She was furious, but I didn’t care.
I wanted her to face consequences. I wanted her to know what it felt like to be the subject of a scandal. And I’m glad it’ll follow her around.
I just hope this is the last bit of drama I have to deal with from her.
