Each time we separated for a while, I chose to forgive my wife. I didn’t want to raise our child in a broken home and believed we could overcome these obstacles. The affair with her co-worker happened when we were young, and I attributed it to youthful mistakes and poor judgment.
For a period, things seemed to get better. Although I could never fully trust her again, I did my best to set aside my doubts, knowing that if I chose to forgive, I had to genuinely work toward a fresh start. It’s been four years since her second betrayal, and I felt confident in my decision to give her another chance.
Karen seemed to have changed, and we were genuinely happy, planning our family’s future. However, three months ago, my world was shattered once more when she revealed that she had been having a long-term affair and suggested that our son might not be mine. Her words struck me like a ton of bricks.
A mix of shock, betrayal, and disbelief overwhelmed me. I struggled to comprehend the enormity of her confession. In a daze, I managed to ask why she had kept such a significant secret and how she could have done something so devastating.
Her reaction was cold and indifferent, as if she were detached from the pain she caused. Her vague responses left me with more questions than answers. It was a surreal and painful moment, confronting the shattered trust and uncertainty about my own family.
I continued to press Karen for the truth because I felt I deserved to know the father of the child I had been raising since birth. Ultimately, she admitted it was David. My eyes widened in shock as I asked Karen what she meant.
She explained that she and David had become friends when I introduced her to my family, and she stayed with us from Thanksgiving until New Year’s. David, usually cold to me, was warm and polite towards her, which made me glad because I didn’t want Karen to feel unwelcome. Karen wanted to be accepted into my family, so she spent significant time with my mom whenever possible.
She noticed the rift between David and me and questioned me about it. I opened up about our strained relationship and explained that we might never repair it due to his unresolved feelings. Karen understood but started including David in our outings, hoping it would help us bond.
Whenever we planned to watch a movie, she invited David, and we watched whatever he chose. During this time, David and I exchanged a few words, which was an improvement compared to his usual silent treatment. I remember Karen and David hanging out and playing video games together, but I never thought much of it.
Karen told me that one day, David opened up to her about his struggles and a recent breakup. Feeling vulnerable, he struck up a friendship with her. She mentioned that he would harmlessly flirt with her when I wasn’t around, and eventually, things escalated beyond her control.
The vision of my wife and brother sleeping together made me feel sick. Karen confessed that she felt guilty afterward and left him, which matched her abrupt decision to go home instead of spending New Year’s with me. Although I tried to convince her to stay, she was adamant about leaving.
When we met back at college after the holidays, she was her usual cheerful self, so I didn’t question anything. Two weeks later, we found out she was pregnant. Karen admitted she didn’t know if the child was mine or David’s, and with no way to prove it, she chose to stay with me, knowing I was the more dependable brother.
This was why we got married. My world felt like it was crashing down. The son I loved might not even be mine.
I asked Karen if she had been sleeping with David recently, and she slowly nodded. She revealed that they had always stayed in touch because their chemistry was undeniable. They would sneak off to hotels, lying to me about working overtime.
She admitted that half of her business trips were actually romantic getaways with him. I asked why she married me if she wanted my brother, and Karen said she didn’t want to be the one to break off the marriage. She saw me as a wonderful father to our son and decided to stay.
In her words, she made a mistake and didn’t know when to stop. I told Karen I was glad she told me the truth but that I was going to pack up and leave. She started crying, asking for forgiveness, and expected me to yell at her.
Instead, I calmly packed my clothes. Karen insisted that if I loved her, I should fight for her and that mistakes happen in every marriage. When she realized I wasn’t going to do anything, she changed tactics, saying our son would be affected by a divorce and that children shouldn’t be raised in broken homes.
I reminded her that I might not even be the father, which made her cry more and accuse me of being cruel. It seemed like she believed nothing could make me want to leave the marriage. Perhaps it was partly my fault for letting things slide in the past.
While I did love her, it felt more like it stemmed from thinking we had a son together and had been together since college. Karen kept insisting it wasn’t too late to fix things, but I struggled to believe her and had no patience left. Trust was a major issue, and her words felt hollow.
Even if I forgave her, I could never forget she slept with my brother. I’ve always believed in forgiving mistakes because we’re all flawed, but this was beyond acceptable limits. I left her crying on the doorstep and checked into a hotel.
The next day, I went straight to my parents and revealed everything about my wife’s affair with David, explaining how they had been secretly sleeping together for years. The shock on their faces was undeniable. True to her nature, my mother initially tried to defend David, insisting that her boy could never do such a thing to his own brother.
Determined to expose the truth, I asked my parents to remain silent and let me call David in front of them. I instructed them to stay quiet so I could catch David off guard, making him believe it was a private conversation. When David answered the phone, I confronted him about the affair.
At first he vehemently denied it, refusing to accept any responsibility. However, when I told him that Karen had admitted to everything, he started blaming her, calling her characterless. He claimed it wasn’t his fault if women were attracted to him and that he was the better-looking brother.
I told him firmly that I would expose him to everyone. When David mocked me, saying no one would believe me because he was the golden child, I scoffed at his arrogance and thanked him for confirming the truth, knowing our parents had heard everything. David went quiet and then spluttered, trying to explain himself and salvage his image.
My mother, still in shock, demanded an explanation from David. He stuttered through a feeble attempt to justify his actions, blaming everyone else but himself and desperately trying to shift the blame onto Karen. I could see my mother, who had once been protective of her favored son, now felt a mix of disappointment and anger.
In that charged moment, I felt a strange sense of vindication. For years, I had endured David’s torment. Now, the truth was out, and the roles were reversed.
It was David who stood exposed, his actions laid bare for everyone to see. As David’s words faltered, my father, usually reserved in his expressions couldn’t contain his disappointment. He asked me to pass him the phone and began to speak to David.