The night was filled with fun. Dinner, a concert and lovemaking. Although I had known for months something was wrong I had yet to be able to figure out exactly what it was. I woke as usual and got everyone breakfast. I ushered my then husband to the door, kissed him and wished him a good day. This time though he stopped and realized he was missing his phone. He asked if I had seen his phone and my initial thought was – today is the day I will learn the truth. Am I strong enough?
He left for work more jumpy then usual. Maybe even a bit sweaty. I was still in my pajamas and was picking up the house a bit. I went to clean something up in the living room and there, behind the couch was the little red cell phone that had obviously dropped from his pocket while scooping the cat box. Ironic, that cat box was one of the things he complained most about dealing with.
I grabbed the phone and opened it knowing my life was about to drastically change. Of course I found messages, messages from Kim… messages I could not even decipher because I had never seen the abbreviations before. They were clearly short for different sexual activities that I had not before heard of even after being married to a sex addict for fifteen years.
Scrolling down further in the messages I saw it. Her, begging to see him at the chiropractors office – apparently a usual meeting spot for them. Him baiting her and denying to meet there. Her in need of some sort of reassurance from him, him only telling her to remember that “this is only sex remember, no love, we agreed – no love, just sex”. The perfect sex addict signature.
And there my life fell, while my six month old slept, I slumped onto our cherry wood floors we had installed five years before. I can still feel the warmth of the sun on me, still see the boards I affixed my gaze on and even smell the warm cherry wood scent. The sun shone brightly on the wood that morning. I sat there fixed, trying to breathe, phone in hand.