Id always believed that my life was firmly under control. Solid job, my own house, a marriage going strong for more than a decade, neighbours Id known since I was a lad. But what no one realisednot even herwas that I was leading a double life.
For years, Id had affairs. I convinced myself they meant nothing, that as long as I came home, no harm was truly done. I never felt like I was going to get caught. I never experienced any genuine guilt. I lived with that sort of false calm of a man who believes he knows how to bend the rules without ever paying a price.
My wife, Alice, was always the quiet type. Her days had a steady routineclear schedules, polite nods to our neighbours in the morning, a life that seemed simple and well-ordered. Our neighbour next door, Tom, was a fixtureone of those blokes you saw daily, borrowing the lawnmower, putting the bins out at the same time, giving you a friendly wave over the fence. I never gave him a second thought. It never crossed my mind that he might cross a line.
I came and went, took business trips, and believed that when I walked back through the front door, everything at home was just as Id left it.
Everything unravelled the day a spate of burglaries hit our neighbourhood. The residents association asked to review CCTV footage. Out of curiosity, I decided to check our own cameras too. I wasnt looking for anything in particular, just wanted to see if anything unusual had been caught on film. I fast-forwarded through the recordings, then rewound.
And then I saw something Id never expected.
Alice coming through the garage door at hours when I wasnt home. And seconds after her, Tom slipped in behind her. Not once. Not twice. Again and again. Dates. Times. The same pattern repeating.
I kept watching.
While Id believed I had everything under control, shed been living her own double life. Only, the pain that hit me was unlike anything Id felt before. It wasnt like the pain when I lost my fatherdeep and sombre. This was different.
It was shame.
Humiliation.
It felt like my dignity was caught on those recordings.
I confronted her. I showed her the videos, the timestamps, the evidence. She didnt deny it. She told me it began during a time when Id grown distant, that she had felt alone, that one thing simply led to another. She didnt apologise right away. She pleaded with me not to judge her.
And that was when I understood the cruelest irony of all:
I had no right to judge her.
I had been unfaithful too.
I had lied as well.
But none of that made the pain any less.
The worst part wasnt that shed cheated.
The worst part was realising that while Id thought I was playing this game alone, there were two of us living the same lieunder one roof, with the same bravado.
Id felt strong for hiding my secrets.
Turned out, Id only been foolish.
My pride was battered.
My image was bruised.
But worst of all was the realisation that I was the last to know what was truly happening in my own home.
I dont know what will become of our marriage now. Im not writing this to excuse myself, or to blame her. Ive simply come to see that there are wounds unlike any Ive felt before.
Should I forgive?
She doesnt know that I, too, have betrayed her.
