He Knew

He knew. Something wasn't right. Because he had been here before. Still, the signs can be ... misunderstood. In which case accusing your wife of being unfaithful could be devastating to your marriage.

They were married four months earlier, in August. Four months. On their honeymoon to Europe they get paged in the airport. Her brother had died in a gruesome accident. The next day they were on their way back to Canada. Funerals, heartache, crying. Then life resumes. It always does. You can't grieve forever. So, back to work. They'll do the honeymoon sometime else. Soon.

They never do.

Work has taken her back to Europe. She often went back and forth. In early December she meets someone. He's not her husband. No, he's not. He's more interesting, more fit, more alive. And so she spends the night with him. No sex, she claims later. Just pleasure. Planned pleasure, not spur of the moment. And why would she lie?

She returns to her husband. Why not, her lover is in Europe, her home is in Canada. After making love, the most passionate for some time, they are laying in bed, basking. "Have you ever thought about having an open marriage?" Out of the blue. Where did this come from? He is caught off guard but is on guard. Stumbles over the question. But he knows what it means.

Pride has no place in this situation. What use is it? He reads her diaries, reads her e-mails. She is enamoured of her new love. She never uses that word. He does. There is, of course, much pain. They were just married. How could she? They were trying to have a child. How could she? But she did. And he was destroyed.

He has a choice: is life better with her or without her. He chooses to stay with her. She was his love. His life partner. His answer to all of life's questions. But she must renounce her new infatuation. She does, or so she claims. How would he ever know? Ironically, he only has trust.

They have a child 10 months later. A daughter. She is perfect. In all respects. They raise her together. Partners. Life partners. And they do a good job. No, an excellent job. Their daughter is smart, accomplished, fun. And their only child. So they focus their attention on her. And not on each other.

Their love languishes. Their passion dies. She cannot meet his physical needs. Why? She doesn't know, and she doesn't try to find out. Because that would require sacrifice on her part. She is many things, but she is not giving. He needs the physicality to feel close to her. And his need is great. More than she can bear. They close off from each other. Her desire for emotional connection, necessary for physical intimacy, is never met. He is closed, hurt, confused. And she is adrift.

The daughter grows up. They do that. And goes to university. They do that also. And now the nest is empty. In more ways than one.

Time is not their friend. She can't find a way through her own self, to be more to him. He needs her love, her approval. Without it he withers. He is weak. He becomes distant. He grows fat, complacent, boring. Nothing he did mattered. Their paths diverge further.

She seeks. And she finds, in books. Faux spirituality, emotions controlled, treated as objects to be managed to provide opportunity. Spirituality not learned from life, from experience, from the spirit of others. Spirituality that can be weaponized to allow any action.

Then, another blow. A body blow. Her beloved father declines and dies. Another loss. And in that loss, like before, she finds another. He is not her husband. No, he's not. He is fit, he is grounded. Their emotional connection is strong. Too strong to ignore. The emotional leads to the physical. As it does.

Monogamy is a social construct. Not real. Their spouses do not fulfill them. Why not find fulfilment in each other? And they do. Often, for 5 months. Betrayal, lies, secrets. Their love is so pure it must be hidden. Until.

He knew. But he did not want to know. She sits her husband down. The affair she has been having is only a symptom of the decline of their marriage, not the cause. Surely he sees this? She is not in love with him, feels no spark, no attraction, has not in many years. He must feel the same. It's so obvious. But they can have an open marriage now, she'll explore her new love while he is freed to find his own passion.

The surprise is palpable. For both. He did not feel the same. Was deeply in love with her, had been for 26 years. They had lost their way. Badly. But he had never wavered in his love. He had failed her in many ways. But he had never wavered in his love. He had become not himself. But he had never wavered in his love. And he was destroyed. Again.

This time it is different. So much time had passed. Their lives were completely entangled. Family. Finances. Future. Plans for retirement. And this time she was in love. Deeply in love, in a way she never felt for him. And he was cut adrift, to find his way on his own.

But not alone. No, not alone. She still wants to live with him. Her affair partner lives elsewhere and is married with children. The new love is hesitant to leave his family. Unlike her. Affair partner's love for her is deep, but only so. She is in limbo. Waiting for him to make a decision. She decides to spend limbo with her husband. It's practical. Cheaper. Convenient. Better for the family. And she does feel love for her husband. Just not in love. Why not live together?

He agrees. Because he is weak. Because he is wounded. Because he is lost. Besides, she promised him an open marriage. Surely, they can survive this. Only to find there was no marriage. No more. There was no love ... for him. Only pain. He stares at her as she reads. His chest warms, his heart swells. He desperately loves her. Desperation.

Practical considerations applied to him also. He is not rich. He is not strong. Yes, they could live together as friends. Roommates. They were very good roommates, had been for years. Yes, he could do this. His love for her would fade. Over time. And then they would go their separate ways.

Time was still not his friend. Because his love for her faded too slowly. How could it not? She was his all, his life partner. And she was right there. Sitting next to him, chatting about her day. Right there. As before. She was present, physically, but not emotionally. Her mind was elsewhere. Always. And he knew.

Her concern for him was superficial. How could it not be? He was a means to an end, not the end. And he knew.

He crumbled. Became a lesser being. Physically he improved, an irony lost on no one. Lost weight and became more active. But his soul declined. He could not sleep. He could get an erection. He could not settle. He could not ... be.

Her affair partner dithered. His family constrained him. His love for her was as pure as hers but he had obligations. Surely she could see that. She was in limbo, in pain. She decided to live day to day, each to its fullest. Leaving precious little room for her husband. She began to look locally for fulfillment, to escape limbo. This the husband could not bear. The distant affair partner was invisible. This ... was too far.

The separation was painful. For both. Perhaps she did feel something for him. They lived together for so long. Perhaps she mourned the loss of the convenience. Her inability to see beyond herself always clouded her emotions, and decisions. He felt himself ripped apart. Starting over at his age felt daunting. Exhausting. He was always tired. He was scared, and lonely.

Lonely. He had been lonely for years within the marriage. There is no greater loneliness. The loneliness of partnership is soul crushing. Perhaps the loneliness of solitude is the opportunity her faux spirituality proffered. From this he could arise. And be more.

Some day. He knew.