Hildy Ch. 02

As he said this, he did what I had done to him while I was engaged with Jonas, he looked deep into my eyes. I knew then how horribly wrong I had been, and knew that there was nothing I could do at that moment. In any event I had been incapable of saying or doing anything more right then.

He went on, driving a sharp knife into me with each word as he said "The only one who cheated on our marriage was you, Hildy. All night long, over and over, being sure that I was watching."

I could hear his heartbreak as he said, " I can almost understand why you did it. I can't forgive you for that, not now. I certainly can't forgive you for adamantly refusing to believe the truth as I tried to explain. Maybe I can in the future, I don't know. I have to think, and this house is not the place for me to have rational thoughts at the moment. I think you can understand why"

I blindly followed him to the door where he again looked at me, saying "Hildy, I'll stay at a motel tonight. Tomorrow I'll have to decide what I am going to do for the next few days. I'm going to a hospital emergency room right now."

He opened the door, then turned to face me on the porch. "I think I may want to save this marriage, but it will take some time." With that he limped out the door, leaving me behind.

As the door closed, I just stood there, the shock and horror overwhelming me. Eventually I started to cry, knowing how wrong I had been, knowing how cruel I had been. The realization hit me, even if he had been with that whore, and now I truly knew he hadn't, what I had done was far worse than what I had accused him of doing, a quick meaningless act with a whore. Probably while he was very drunk. That would have been bad, but not like what I had done. No, I had plotted to betray him. I had carefully planned to do it with a friend, in front of him, doing almost everything possible, things that I only ever wanted to do with my husband.

At the thought of what I had done, I got physically sick, right there by the door, collapsing with my tears on the floor.

Finally I got up and went to our room, though sleep was not about to come. As I replayed what had happened I shook with fear and guilt. The only thing that kept me going then and for the next few days was his comment that he thought he wanted to save the marriage. Without the little bit of hope that gave me, I might have killed myself, for I couldn't stand living with what I had done.

I also thought about Jonas, getting angrier as I did so. I had known he had always lusted after me, even before Brian and I started going out. While he may have intended his original comment at the wedding as a joke, once I told him my plan included having sex with him there was no way he would come clean.

I constantly showered and douched for the next few days, trying to make myself feel clean, but it wasn't really working. I ripped the sheets off the bed in the guestroom, and took them, and the ties that had bound my husband to the table, and burned them in the fireplace. Somehow I hoped the destruction of those reminders would help me heal.

As well, once I looked at myself in the mirror, and saw the marks and bruises all over my body, I realized that part of the pain I felt, as had Brian, was physical. The hard, rough way that Jonas had fucked me, had hurt, and the pain in and around my pussy had not gone away. The reality of it, and the fact that it made me think again of what I had done, started the tears all over again. It also made me realize that it had been unprotected sex, with somebody who was not my husband. This in itself was enough to cause me to throw up again, though there wasn't much inside me, as the guilt of what I had done, and the fear that Brain might not come back, or forgive me, had prevented me from being able to eat.

But the desire to be ready in case he came home, drove me to go and see the doctor. I don't know what the doctor thought as he examined me, and tested me, at my request, for STD's. Thankfully, the test results were negative, though I thought to myself, "If Brian doesn't come back, maybe I deserve to get some horrible disease, as a reminder of what I did to him, and to myself."

I called a friend and had him take the table to the dump, getting it out of my sight as quickly as possible. At the same time, I called Goodwill to come and take the all the furniture from the guest room for I knew that if I couldn't look at it without remembering, there was no way I would allow Brian to see it again... if he came home.

The only communication I had with Brian over the next few days was a short call. All he said was, "I need more time to think", then he hung up on my attempted apologies.

Finally on the next Saturday the doorbell rang and it was Brian. He just stood there, watching me cry, then letting me hug him. Finally he said, "Now its time we talk"

We sat down, opposite each other, and he told me that he wanted to speak first, "I'm still not sure if I can get over this, but I know how much I loved you, and think that deep down that love is still alive. I'm prepared to give it a chance, but it won't be easy, it will be some time before things can be as they were... if they ever can."

As I tried to apologize and tell him that now I knew how wrong I had been, and how sorry and guilty I felt, he told me that he didn't want to discuss it yet, for the wounds, both physical, and emotional, were still too deep.

Things did take time, and I often wondered if I had killed our love, or if he could ever get past what I had done, and accept my love again. He slept in the third bedroom, only communicating with me for what was necessary to run the household. If I tried to bring things up, he would turn away.

I tried to dress to get his attention, finally asking him if we could make love again. My heart broke anew when he told me that every time he thought of it he could see me with Jonas, hear me telling Jonas how good he was. When he shut his eyes he saw me in the peignoir he had bought me for Valentines Day. The one I had never worn for him, which I only wore for Jonas. Needless to say, it was in the garbage as soon as I left the room.

As hard as it was living with him like this, I knew I had to try. I owed him for what I had done to him and that I didn't know if I could ever repay him. I still loved him, there had never been a question of that. I think I did convince him that I hadn't meant the things I had said to Jonas, and weren't true, but only said to drive the knife deeper into him

Gradually, things got easier; the meals I prepared, the things I did for him, the way I accepted him pushing me away at times, the way I stayed by his side. These helped him accept that I did love him, and did want to be with him. Eventually he accepted that the love I had shown prior to then, was true, and still existed, only mixed with the guilt and horror of what I had done.

One day, he didn't move away when I leaned into him while we were sitting on the couch watching a movie, finally even putting his arm around me as I snuggled in closer. Nothing further happened that night, but the next night when I did the same, he pulled me closer, tilting my head up and kissed me. I almost cried then, in fact a few tears did fall as I returned the kiss.

Eventually, over the next week and to my delight the kisses led to more. Until finally they ended with us making love right there on the couch. Yes, it was making love, nobody could call this just fucking. That night he slept with me again for the first time.

It still isn't back where it was before, and I don't know if it ever can be. I will always feel guilt over what I did, and still can't understand how I could have doubted him and could have gotten so bent out of shape that I couldn't see what I was doing.

At the same time, we are in some ways stronger than we were before. I know that I will never doubt him again, for even the act of coming home and his growing acceptance show me how much he loved me, and loves me. I can only hope that he knows how much I truly love him, and always have.

As for Jonas, he did call me the day afterward, He told me he hoped that things were ok,

I told him that I held him responsible to a large degree for what had happened, though the final blame for what I did is mine alone. Then I echoed Brian's words to him, adding that if I ever say him again I'd cut his slimy little pecker off with a sharp knife. I know that he contacted Brian through a friend a few months later, hoping things were cooled down. The friend was told to tell Jonas it was best he continue to stay out of our way. He was no longer welcome.

We are looking at moving out of this house, and I think that this will continue to help us build our marriage. More importantly, we are planning on having a child, which is something I know we are both eager for.

Life will go on, and it will get better. I know I give thanks every day that my husband has accepted my love for him, and acknowledged his love for me, and that we will continue to grow.

The only advice that I can give, is that if someone ever tells you that your spouse has cheated, talk to them, don't blindly accept it as truth, and definitely don't get carried away with wanting revenge.