A poignant tale of three women who were all married to the same man, revealing the heartache and betrayal they endured. Frances, Wendy, and Suzy recount their experiences, highlighting the devastating impact of John's infidelity on their lives. Through shared stories and support, they find strength and healing in their collective pain.
'Did you know John and Wendy divorced?' a mutual friend asked. I did not. 'Well I ran into Wendy, and she asked me to relay a message to you.'' John and I dated for only six months before he popped the question. Just a few months before we began dating, my previous boyfriend of five years, Tayloe, and I had broken up. My relationship with John was a rebound, and it should have stayed just that.
Instead, at age 21, I walked down the aisle the same year Princess Diana and Prince Charles married, wearing my mother’s satin wedding dress with a long train trailing behind me. Days later, we packed up a U-Haul and drove from Mississippi to Montana to finish our college education. During our first Christmas together, John bought himself a new pair of downhill skis. He presented his old pair to me with a big bow tied around them. I excused myself and fled to the bathroom to cry. Not only was his re-gifting hurtful, but I still missed my old boyfriend and the way we had given each other thoughtful gifts and spent the holidays with either his family or mine. That was the first sign that our marriage was not a good one.The author and Tayloe, her boyfriend of five years.'This photo was taken in 1980, a year before I married John,' she writes. John did make one dream come true: He bought us a cabin at the foot of a mountain. It was 30 minutes from town, and since we only had one car, I was often alone at night while he worked at a restaurant. Loneliness crept in while he was at work and making friends. It wasn’t long before I began to suspect that John was being unfaithful. My suspicions were confirmed when I phoned a waitress from the restaurant late one night.I was sure my inadequacies had caused my husband to step outside our relationship for other women’s company. This was not the fairy tale I so wanted to believe in. His affairs put an end to our two-year marriage. I felt inferior, disheartened and confused. I wanted to die, and tried to. Not long after our divorce, John began dating Wendy. He and I hadn’t seen each other in months, so I wondered what was up when he called to ask me to lunch. After we ordered, John blurted out, “Wendy is pregnant, and we’re getting married.” Thanks to my therapist, who had helped me to see that John’s infidelities were not all about me, my self-esteem had been restored. I was able to take this news gracefully. John also shared that Wendy had asked him to show this respect to me, so I would hear it from him instead of someone else. I liked her already. Wendy and I first met when she and John came by my place to grab the canoe that he and I mutually owned. She reached out her hand to introduce herself, and as our hands touched, I picked up on a warm friendliness about her. While John loaded the canoe, she and I chatted like friends. After all, she was not the one he had cheated on me with, and I felt no ill will toward her. During her pregnancy, Wendy and I frequently bumped into each other in our small downtown. We’d greet each other and make small talk. In May 1985, her daughter was born. Because Wendy was new to our town when she met John, she didn’t know many people, so she asked if I would babysit for her on occasion. I saw no reason to say no, since I liked Wendy and I was over John. “I think we shocked your ex-mother-in-law by having you watch the baby,” Wendy later said with a laugh. Not long after, I moved out of town and didn’t stay in touch with Wendy. Then, 12 years later, a mutual friend called me. “Did you know John and Wendy divorced?” she asked. I did not. “Well, I ran into Wendy, and she asked me to relay a message to you: ‘Tell Frances it’s not us, it’s him.’” In 2010, I moved back to that small mountain town I loved so much and opened a consignment store. Wendy heard I was back in town and came into the store to welcome me. We were thrilled to see each other, and it instantly felt like we were old friends. She had remarried. Her emotions were raw as she told me about her husband’s recent health issues. Hugging her, I said, “Let’s have a coffee date and catch up.” A month later, we sat drinking coffee and sharing stories. I wanted to hear how her daughter was, and she wanted to hear about my life. Eventually we discussed what had happened between her and John. He had been unfaithful to her, too. And apparently we weren’t the only ones. “John got married — and divorced — again. He cheated on her, too!” Wendy said. “I like Suzy,” she added. “We should invite her to join us sometime. We could share our stories.” A few months later on a chilly winter evening, the three of us sat at a round table in a dimly lit restaurant. The small talk lasted for only a few minutes before we shared similar stories of our marriages to the same man. Being the first wife, I began. Then Wendy opened up. Then Suzy.before!” Suzy revealed. “I was standing in my soon-to-be mother-in-law’s kitchen, and I asked her if I should register for wedding gift
Infidelity Marriage Divorce Betrayal Healing Support Relationships Personal Experience
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