Recently a movie called 'Gehraiyyan' was released starring Deepika Padukone which was based on Infidelity and people related it with normalizing the concept of 'cheating'. Here's a true life story around Cheating which can give chills to one and maybe a Lesson too!
I am a 28-year-old female, and I was married to a wonderful man I will call William. Eight months ago, my husband confronted me with proof I had been both emotionally and physically unfaithful. A few days after he confronted me about my infidelity; my husband committed suicide. I realize just typing those words out has caused people, people I don’t even know, to hate me. I couldn’t believe I had the capability to do something that evil to harm someone I’d loved since we were children. But I did it. If you’d asked either me or William if either of us would ever be unfaithful, we both would have laughed. But to my own shock and surprise I allowed myself to lose focus and strayed. I knew it would destroy him if he ever found out. But I took the heart of the man I loved and crushed it so cruelly he couldn’t endure the pain of this life anymore. Those of you thinking right now that I don’t deserve to be breathing, I agree with you. I agree with you so much I’ve attempted on two occasions to make that a reality. I’m assured there is a reason I’m still here. For the moment I’ve convinced myself that the longer I live, the more I suffer, and I don’t deserve the mercy of a suicide if we’re being honest.
William and I grew up together. I can remember my very early youth and at no time in my memory did I not know William. We were in the same Sunday school classes, public school classes, and our families had been friends long before he and I ever came along. He could always make me laugh. Kids can be mean, but William never was. I realized I thought he was cute in sixth grade. It wasn’t an official crush until high school. William and I had been our one and only loves from early high school all the way through college together. We were best friends and cherished each other so much. After graduation we took a year to get good stable jobs near our families and decided to get married. We took vacations together, we made love at any moment we got the chance. We were ravenous for each other. The only time sex was of the table was during that time of the month. But we’d make love for hours. Beautiful moments of passion. And I threw it all away for something tawdry, cheap, and worthless. We were planning to have children. We knew their names. We were both virgins. He was my first everything and I was his first everything. Part of me wishes I could say I had a drunken one-night stand, tried to keep that from my husband, but he found out. No. I got emotionally and physically involved with a man who was inferior to my husband in every way, shape, and form.
I didn’t even consider the possibility that a friendship with another man could lead to an attachment forming. My husband and I had a strong marriage. As foolish as that sounds to say now, we really did. My husband was the epitome of strength, I was the one who was weak. Though before this, I considered myself a strong woman. It’s just that no one ever told me that while our relationship was so very strong, no relationship is bulletproof. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t wish someone had walked up and shot me the minute before anything I did became secretive. It is an indisputable fact the world would be far a far better place with my husband here and alive instead of me. There is no rationalizing away truth like that. I had so many chances to stop it before anything happened, and I had absolutely no reason to allow anything to happen.
After a brief and heated conversation, he walked out, and I never spoke to him again. I tried to contact him in any and every way I could think of. My God I tried to reach out so many times just to let him know that I am truly sorry, just to know I hate what I did. My texts to him never showed anything but an unread status to me. So, I doubt he read any emails or heard any voicemails either. But everyone said I needed to give him space and time to think. Two nights after William confronted me, at 3:17AM there was a loud knock at the front door. I turned on the lights. I thought at first it might be someone in a drunken stupor wanting to curse me out or worse. Then there was another loud knock, and I threw on a hoodie before heading to the door. When I opened the door to see two policemen, I knew. They could have been there for many things, but I knew in an instant why they were there. Their words telling me that my husband’s body had been found due to an apparent suicide destroyed me. I dropped to my knees and wailed a shriek of agony. I tore at my skin and hair as the police tried to calm me down. By the time the EMT’s got there, I was sitting on the steps rocking back and forth repeating that I was so, so sorry.
Yeah, there was no way I was making it to the funeral even if William’s family had allowed any of my family to attend. I was kept sedated for days. The first thing I wanted to do when I got out was visit William’s grave. But nobody knew where his parents had him buried. They had every right, but that cut deeply. And I tried to cut deeply that night when I tried to take my life for the first time. I’ve now been hospitalized now twice for attempted suicide. Not asking for pity, in fact I don’t want it. Nothing can take this heartache away, and nothing can even numb it. Part of me wishes I had somehow forced him to see me just for a mere moment to tell him how sorry I am and that I knew our marriage was over. But I didn’t get that. No, I didn’t deserve it. And I have to face the fact that what I did was in fact so vile that making my husband see me might have forced him to take his life even sooner. Many people have said to me my actions were what led him to take his life. I don’t think there is any doubt. Until that horrible day he’d been so unbelievably happy, we both had been. He left no suicide note to verify I was his cause of death. But we had been so happy, we loved spending nearly every moment together. To go from that kind of bliss to that kind of grief in such a short span of time ended him. I ended him. My words actions and thoughts betrayed us both. Regret doesn’t kill you, if it did, I would have died before my husband ever confronted me.
When COVID hit, William and I quarantined together. I was fortunate enough to teach for an exclusive private school. The benefactors assured us our salary was paid as long as the need for isolation persisted. William worked from home and made a lot of progress on a project he was placed in charge of. The entire world was worried and afraid. But we had each other, and we so enjoyed making the most of it. Watching movies in bed, feeding each other food, playing like two little kids. I am utterly, truly, completely sorry to those that lost a loved one due to that horrible disease. What the world went through was a literal plague upon humanity that caused so much needless death. But my husband and I got closer in those weeks than we ever had before, and our bond had been strong. We joked about how so many people were hating having to spend time with family or God forbid their wife or husband. We simply couldn’t get enough of each other. After the first month we had to agree to limit sex to once a day for about a week. Our only argument the entire quarantine was about having to do laundry just to put clean sheets on the bed yet again. And I cheated on that man; which drove him to exit this life due to my evil actions. A man I had such a close bond with, I was an idiot in so many ways. But for me to think because of that bond, no temptation was enough to get me to stray was idiocy. I hate myself in so many ways for so many reasons. But knowing I had it all is the most difficult pill to swallow.
My affair was atypical of most in many ways. Some aspects of the relationship and betrayal were slightly less vile, some were colder and even more evil. The man I had an affair with I will call Paul. I first encountered him in group zoom meetings during the pandemic. I found him brash and smug with no valid reason to act that way. He was the school’s lacrosse coach and I remember in those zoom meetings being glad that as an English teacher I would have to interact with him very little. The first time we met face to face we shook hands and had some small talk. There was zero attraction, at least from me toward him. But I didn’t sense any lustful attention emulating from him toward me. During that introduction I learned he was engaged, and I told him I was happily married to a man I adored. No sexual tension, nothing even hinting that would ever be a possibility. The school began allowing half the staff in all areas and half the students to attend school for a week while the other half used Zoom. The next week the other half would attend on site and vice versa That was supposed to assist with social distancing and the student’s feelings of isolation. While eating lunch one day before my next class began, I got an email from Paul. He had written out some toasts and jokes for his upcoming wedding and wanted me to edit what he’d written. I was used to being sent writing to edit, so that was nothing I felt important enough to tell William. Coupled with the fact it all pertained to Paul’s wedding and I saw no reason to give my husband a boring detail about that day.
The email contained a toast to his parents as well as to the parents of the bride. I took what he’d said and added a few phrases to pull at the heart strings of all who attended. The jokes directed at his brother, the best man; were absolutely hilarious but a little vulgar for my liking at a wedding. I said as much when I sent back his edited speeches. He laughed and said I just don’t know his family and that ball busting was a family tradition. That email exchange began several months of corresponding back and forth. But as difficult as it may believe, not until the very end did anything become inappropriate. Not once did anything become flirtatious or sexual. Well, we did talk about sex, but from a purely scientific and psychological point of view. Our “sex talks” at that point would have made the biggest nymphomania in history drier than the Sahara. There was nothing emotional or physically stimulating to those conversations. And I enjoyed our corresponding due to the fact I was certain there was no temptation on either end. We discussed race, politics, religion, science, sports; all the things people are hesitant to discuss due to differing opinions. Some of the discussions even got heated, I was called a prude more than once due to my opinions about sex. Yes, I proved him wrong. But I wish to God he’d been right.
For the longest time all of this took place during work hours. My husband and I had a land line for emergencies. But as soon as we entered the door at home our smartphones were turned off. Paul didn’t even have my number to text until I emailed him with a zinger at the end late in the day. He demanded my number to refute what I’d sent. Dozens of other coworkers had my email and I thought nothing of that. I seriously don’t think Paul had any interest in pursuing me either as at the time he was smitten with his fiancé. But about a month before their big day Paul found out his girlfriend had been carrying on an affair with her high school boyfriend for over a year. He was in shock and deeply hurt by the whole situation. I unwittingly became his person to vent to. I don’t know where in our string of conversations that things crossed a line. But I began to feel truly sorry for Paul, I truly despised his fiancé for what she’d done, and I saw nothing wrong with that. But after a particularly rough night for him he came to school looking frazzled and I could tell he’d been crying. I gave him a hug and talked to him a bit. He asked if I could stay after school to talk. Since I had a couple hours after work each day before William got home, I agreed. In hindsight I realize now what drew me into my conversations with Paul was a different opinion. William and I had discussed most any topic two people could discuss. I knew before his reply what William would say when I asked him a question the vast majority of the time. I guess I wanted a surprise when I talked or verbal conflict. It was stupid, pathetic, and weak. But that is what led to the affair.
Things with William were ideal, and we spent every available moment together. I had mentioned a coworker named Paul in passing to William. But as there was truly nothing going on, I didn’t expound upon anything and he saw no reason to pry. When Paul started seeing a new woman, I felt no jealousy and honestly only happiness for him. But William had to go out of town to a construction site in Tulsa for three weeks. While he was away, we face timed every day and I missed him morning, noon, and night. But with sudden spare time I found myself also texting with Paul just to pass the time. Instead of an occasional hour or two after school, Paul and I often had time to grab a bite to eat and a drink or two before heading to our separate homes. Oddly enough, the thing that led us to become physical was me being a klutz and the school nurse not working that week. I sprained my ankle one day walking up some steps to go get lunch. Since the nurse was not on site, I went to Paul assuming he as a coach had numbing spray or an ace bandage. He was working on my ankle when I happened to notice he had an apparent erection. I was a bit taken aback he was getting aroused in some way, until I realized from his position he could see slightly up my skirt. I have to admit for a moment I found the fact I was turning him on was stimulating in some way. I adjusted myself to see if a slightly better view would get him more worked up.
He called me out on it. I laughed and told him he could work out his frustrations with his new girlfriend. Suddenly he kissed me, and I pushed him away. He kissed me again and I didn’t. We made out for a few minutes before I realized what I was doing. I hurriedly got out of his classroom and made it down the halls to my classroom. I sat in disbelief of what had just occurred. I didn’t plan for it to happen and I was certain Paul didn’t either. I didn’t know if I should call William and tell him that moment or wait until he got home that night. But when I talked to Paul after classes he apologized, urged me not to bring any conflict into my marriage and remain just friends. I didn’t want to give William more to stress about as he was out of town and focused on his job assignment. After talking with William that night about how things were going in Tulsa I decided to wait and tell him when he got home. His company was having some issues with the client having the manpower to keep the project running smoothly. There were things William could not get done due to the delays which meant he had to spend two extra weeks in Tulsa. Paul was there for me to discuss what had happened between us. I couldn’t tell any of my women friends. I couldn’t rely on any family members as they all rightfully loved William to pieces. I guess random strangers on a site like this would have been the best option had I known about it. But the person I was venting to was the very last person I should have been discussing it with.
One Friday after work Paul and I went to a new restaurant near the school for dinner. We sat at the bar and had a few drinks as I explained how unsettled I felt knowing I had to tell my husband what had happened. He asked me how I thought William would take the news and I told Paul he might want to call in sick the day after I told William just in case. He asked if I seriously thought William would beat his ass and I told him no. But I knew it would mean the end of Paul and I conversing and messaging; and rightfully so. Paul confessed he didn’t think he would have made it through his breakup if it hadn’t been for me. I assured him I was glad to be of assistance and didn’t regret helping him. When the realization our friendship would end sunk in, I think we were both a little depressed. I drank too much; he drank too much, and I ended up back at Paul’s apartment doing a lot more than kissing. As soon as it was over my conscious kicked in. Yes, it should have kicked in long before. But I knew beyond all shadow of any doubt my marriage was over and done with. William and I both had said society has allowed far too many second chances for people that didn’t deserve them. Yes, humans do make mistakes. While we both believed anyone who cheated did deserve a second chance, it could never be with the one they betrayed. Life might give them the opportunity to love someone else again, but any opportunities with the cheated spouse was totally undeserved and detrimental to both parties.
Things got very complicated when William arrived home from Tulsa. I happened to be having my period. So, I knew there would be no intimacy between us thankfully. Not in a million years would I have subjected my husband to any diseases. Regardless of how much I wanted to make love to William one last time I couldn’t allow that to happen. I wrote out a long letter to William confessing what I’d done and planned to give it to him after a face-to-face confession. To this day I don’t know what happened for William to discover what was going on. For all I know he had been monitoring my online conversation with Paul from day one. I never got to ask him how he discovered my betrayal. And the realization he’d learned what I’d done before I had the chance to tell him caused me to fall to my knees and swear I planned to tell him. William didn’t believe that, and I wouldn’t have either. He had a stack of the texts between Paul and I printed out. Though I didn’t deny any of what he accused me of, that honesty came far too late. He packed a few things in a suitcase and left me on a Monday evening. Wednesday night he drove to a shopping center, parked his car, and took his own life. To know I had destroyed our relationship was torture to my soul like I’d never known. To know I’d even robbed him of a chance to find someone else to be happy with ruined me. The realization I didn’t just end my relationship with William but every relationship he’d had or would have caused more guilt than I could ever express.
I could go into all the things that have happened since William passed away. But a lot of it would be details far too many wouldn’t truly care about. Suffice it to say his family hates me and my family. My family was disgusted by my actions and continues to be to this day. Their love for me didn’t die. But their disappointment and shame toward me will never end and that’s how it should be. No, the results were not anything I intended. But when choices are made that cause pain and suffering, we are still guilty for causing that grief. I see a therapist twice a week to try and work through things. I was introduced to someone through my therapist that is genuinely helping me sort through my feelings. Years ago, she intentionally set a small fire to set off alarms to scare her ex-boyfriend and the girl he’d just started seeing. The fire spread quickly and what had been intended as a joke caused multiple people to lose their lives. She and I have discussed so many things about her story and mine. Things can never be the way they once were nor should they be. But if I am to keep living, I need a plan to make what is left of my life as meaningful as possible.
Taken from Reddit.
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