Read the previous entry here.
He packed his bags, gave me a token peck on the cheek and I dropped him off at the airport.
The sick feeling in my gut was still there. I couldn't help but feel something was going to go horribly wrong.
The next day, with my children in tow, I boarded a different plane. I had planned to spend the week at my in-laws for Thanksgiving and snow. It was perfect. Family, mounds of mashed potatoes, secret laughter about the obnoxious aunts missing blouse button and the ultimate snow dinosaur, a stegosaurus.
As perfect as it was, I felt an undertone. Like a gentle riptide swirling around my feet. It felt dangerous.
Shaking and sweaty, I belted obscenities to the inky cold air...F-bomb obscenities, the kind I don't say in real life. Screaming!! Howling!! I had just caught my husband sleeping with a woman who wasn't me! I blinked and realized it was just a dream. Thank God! My kids still snuggled next to me fast asleep, I sigh, laying my head back on the pillow.
It was just a nightmare.
'The likelihood of my husband cheating on me is the same likelihood of him murdering me. Impossible, he would never do it. I couldn't fathom it's possibility.'
I read this somewhere. A woman explained the absolute impossibility of her husbands infidelity. He would never kill me...he would never cheat on me. It was absurd.
Then next day I was shaken and bothered. I told myself, "There's no way. I trust his fidelity. He loves us. He loves me."
Sweaty and thrashing I scream out again. The nightmare repeats itself! Breathing, doubting my sanity, pulling out my hair, I hear a voice outside my head. Insanity?
"You won't divorce him."
I whispered back, "hell ya, I will."