Is it normal for my husband to live a double life at 60?
I never imagined my marriage would end in such a nightmare. I discovered that my husband has been unfaithful for 15 years. It wasn’t just an affair; he has another family and a child. This truth hit me like a freezing storm, numbing me inside. I’m lost, unsure where to go or what to do. I threw him out, but he’s on his knees begging for forgiveness. My mind is in chaos, my heart is torn, and I can’t find peace. I married him at 28 in our small town near Bath.
He’s two years older than me. Our love weathered every storm, from poverty to arguments and hardships. No matter what troubles came, we clung to each other like a lifeline. There were times when we struggled to make ends meet, but we pulled through. We had children, and our lives seemed to brighten like the sun breaking through clouds. In the early 2000s, things improved. My husband started his own business—a small chain of shops that brought in a steady income. He managed everything himself, trusting no one else to avoid mistakes. I stayed out of his work, not even knowing the shop assistants’ names. One of them would become his second life.
A young, lively assistant who worked for him a few years eventually went on maternity leave. She had my husband’s son—15 years ago. For all these years, I lived in blind ignorance while he divided his time between me and her. He was 46 when he became a father again, and she was just 33. That’s when the “late-night fishing trips” and “business trips” began. He even brought home fish to keep up the charade. While supposedly traveling abroad for goods, he was with her and their son. How could I have been so blind? How did I not see the signs?
I never had a shadow of doubt. In all these years, he never gave me reason to question his loyalty. He appeared loving, caring, always present—or so it seemed. But the worst part? Some of our friends knew from the start. They stayed silent, hoping he’d come to his senses, leave her, and return to me fully. How wrong they were.
After New Year’s, I quit my job. Why keep it when my husband’s business provided for us? But soon the shops began closing—some issue with paperwork. He became withdrawn, spending all day at home, restless like a caged animal. I couldn’t understand it; with our savings, we should have been carefree for years. Then he left “for business,” forgetting his phone at home. It kept ringing, and seeing a man’s name, I answered—to say he’d call back. But a woman’s voice replied:
“Darling, when will you return? We’ve been waiting.”
My world collapsed. I trembled, asking, “Who are you? What’s your relationship with my husband?” She calmly replied:
“Let Simon explain. He intended to for a while now.”
When he returned, staggeringly drunk, I already knew what was coming. He confessed: for 15 years he lived a double life. He blamed me—I focused too much on my health and gave him less attention. He wanted “fun” with the assistant, but she became pregnant. After their son’s birth, he felt trapped, unable to choose, so he chose neither—living two lives. Turns out, he secretly opened another shop, funneling all its profits to that family. My pain was irrelevant to him.
Now he’s on his knees, swearing love, promising to cut ties. But he won’t abandon his son, saying he can’t betray the child. I can’t live this way. Every glance and word from him is now poison. I’ll suspect him with every step, every breath. This wound is too deep to heal. I see only one option—divorce. He’s destroyed everything we built, and I can’t believe it can be mended.
Simon’s begging for another chance, but how could I? How can I live with someone who lied to my face for 15 years? I look at him and see a stranger. What would you do? Is there even a faint hope to salvage our marriage? Or am I right, and it’s time to escape this hell before it drags me down further? I’m at a crossroads, and it terrifies me. Please, give me advice.
