Is it normal for my 60-year-old husband to live a double life?
I never imagined my marriage would become such a nightmare. I discovered that my husband has been unfaithful for the past 15 years. He didn’t just have an affair—he’s been maintaining two families, even having a child with another woman. This truth hit me like a cold storm, freezing everything inside. I’m at a loss, unsure where to turn or what to do. I kicked him out of the house, and now he’s on his knees, begging for forgiveness. My mind is in turmoil, my heart is breaking, and I can’t find peace. I was 28 when I married him in our small town near York.
He’s two years older than me. Our love saw both heaven and hell—we endured everything: poverty, arguments, hardships. No matter the storms, we clung to each other like a lifeline. There were times when we couldn’t afford bread, but we pulled through. We had children, and life began to improve, like the sun breaking through clouds. In the early 2000s, things started looking up. My husband launched his own business—a small chain of shops that provided us a steady income. He managed everything himself, trusting no one else with his business to avoid any mistakes. I stayed out of his work, didn’t even know the names of the shop assistants. But it turned out, among them, he found his second life.
One of those shop assistants, young and spirited, worked for him for several years before going on maternity leave. Yes, she had a son with my husband—15 years ago. For all those years, I lived in blind ignorance while he was torn between me and the other woman. He was 46 when he became a father again, and she was just 33. Since then, his “night fishing trips,” “business trips,” and other stories began. He even brought back fish so I wouldn’t suspect anything wrong. While supposedly traveling abroad for goods, he spent time with her and their son. How could I have been so blind? How did I not notice the deceit?
I never had a shadow of doubt. All these years, he never gave me a reason to question his fidelity. He was affectionate, caring, always present—or so I thought. But the worst part? Some of our friends knew from the start. They knew and stayed silent, afraid to open my eyes. They hoped he’d come to his senses, leave her, and return to me fully. How wrong they were.
After the New Year, I quit my job. Why did I need it when my husband’s business was providing for us comfortably? But soon, the shops started closing—some issues with documentation. My husband withdrew, spending days at home, restless like a caged animal. I couldn’t understand: with our savings, we could have lived without worries for years! And then he left “on business” and forgot his phone. It kept ringing, and seeing a man’s name on the screen, I decided to answer—to say he’d call back. But a woman’s voice came through:
“Darling, when will you be back? We’ve been waiting.”
My world shattered. I trembled and asked, “Who are you? What’s your relationship with my husband?” She calmly replied:
“Let John explain everything. He’s been meaning to.”
When he returned, completely drunk, I already knew what I’d hear. He laid it all out: 15 years he lived a double life. He claimed it was my fault—I had focused more on my health, giving him less attention. He wanted to have some “fun” with that shop assistant, but she got pregnant. After their son was born, he got confused, couldn’t choose, so he decided not to choose at all—living a double life. Turns out, he secretly opened another store, and all the money went to that family. He didn’t care about my pain.
Now he’s on his knees before me, swearing love, promising to cut ties with her. But he doesn’t want to abandon his son—says he can’t betray the child. And I can’t live like this. Every look, every word from him would now be poison to me. I’d suspect him at every turn, every breath. This wound is too deep to heal. I see only one solution—divorce. He’s shattered everything we built, and I don’t believe it can be mended.
John pleads for a chance, but how can I? How do I live with someone who lied to my face for 15 years? I look at him and see a stranger. What do you think? Is there even a faint hope to save our marriage? Or am I right, and it’s time to break free from this hell before it drags me down completely? I stand at a crossroads, and I’m scared. I could really use some advice.
