I caught my wife cheating on me, and I know exactly when it started.

I am 44, male, and my soon-to-be ex-wife is 39. We were married for 11 years and had no children. We used to be a pretty chubby couple until two years ago, when I had a blood test and found out I was at risk of developing diabetes, gout, and hypertension.

That really scared me. Bit by bit, both of us started living a much healthier life. I went from 117 kilograms to 85 kilograms, and my wife, whom I will call Jane, went from 83 kilograms to 65 kilograms. We felt great, and needless to say, I never developed those diseases.

We started going to the gym almost every afternoon. That was where her affair partner worked as a coach. I will call him Baldi.

When Jane started getting in shape, I noticed most guys turned to look at her. I felt proud of her. She was fairly busty and had magnificent legs, and of course, Baldi was no exception. I had noticed before that Baldi liked to check out women’s bodies, especially their butts.

I had seen him doing it several times. He liked to show off how ripped he was. When Jane and I were regulars at the gym, I noticed she was enjoying the attention she got from men. At first, I tried to shrug it off.

One day, we were using elliptical machines. In front of us, there was a cable machine. Baldi took off his T-shirt and started doing crossovers. I turned to Jane with a face that said, “Can you believe this guy?”

But she was staring at him. She even wet her lips. I looked at Baldi, and I swear he was grinning. I felt crushed.

I was getting in shape, but I was not as muscular and fit as he was. When we were driving home, I made a comment about Baldi showing off. Jane said, “Really? I didn’t notice.”

I told her she had been staring. She said she didn’t remember and must have been thinking about something else. I shrugged it off and kept driving. But from then on, I noticed they were talking more frequently at the gym.

A few weeks later, Jane was doing squats using the Smith machine. Suddenly, Baldi went over to help her. He was grabbing her by the waist, and I got angry. She finished the first set, and I went over and told him, in a not-so-nice way, “I’ve got it from here.”

Baldi just smiled and said, “No problem, buddy.” He calls everybody buddy. Then he walked away.

Jane knew me very well, and when she heard my angry tone, she said, “Oh my God, OP.” I told her, “We’ll discuss this at home.” And at home, the drama blew up.

She called me immature and jealous. I told her I had noticed he was trying to get into her pants. She said she knew that, but she would never cheat on me. I asked her why she had let him touch her, and she said she didn’t want to be rude.

After about an hour of arguing, we agreed to change gyms. So we went to another place to exercise. But Jane was resentful toward me in the following months. Her argument was that I didn’t trust her.

During the third month after we changed gyms, a very good opportunity opened up at my job, but it was in the afternoon. We discussed it, and I took it. That meant we had to go to the gym at different hours. I went in the morning, and Jane went in the afternoon.

That was when everything went south. Jane’s resentment increased, and we barely spoke. I sent her messages telling her about my day, telling her that I missed her, sending her memes, but she rarely replied. When she did, it was just, “Yes,” “Okay,” or “Same here.”

I was very worried and proposed couples therapy. She said I was the one who needed therapy because I was the one with trust issues. I agreed. I was so desperate to fix our marriage that I even thought it was all my fault.

So, during the following year, 2022, I went to therapy. But Jane’s behavior did not change. We were not intimate anymore. She was never in the mood.

I snooped through her phone but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. I looked in her car for a second phone. Nothing. I checked her phone again to see her map history.

It only showed home, work, home, gym, home. Whenever I tried to talk to her, she said she just felt like she was having a “40s phase” and that it would pass. I never had any evidence of cheating. So I continued working and worrying.

We live in a condo. The security guard, a very cheerful man named Mr. P, greeted me often. We chatted a lot. One day, he was touching his shoulder and told me that the day before, he had to move a heavy sofa, and now he had some pain.

I was sympathetic. Then he dropped the bomb. He said, “Maybe you can arrange a meeting with your massage therapist.”

I asked him, “Who?” He said, “The guy who came yesterday to massage Mrs. Jane.”

It took me a second to process it. I asked him if he had a video of the man. I think he noticed I had gone pale, because he hurried to show me. Guess who it was?

Baldi, of course. He had come over a few times to “massage” my wife. I took the day off and started investigating. I asked a co-worker for his car, and that afternoon, I followed Jane.

She parked her car at the mall where the gym was. Baldi was waiting for her. They giggled and behaved like a couple. There were kisses and hugs, and I nearly broke down in tears.

They walked a couple of blocks and went into a residential area. I tried to follow them with my phone ready to record, but the guard stopped me and asked, “Can I help you?” I just said, “What a nice couple. Do you know them?”

He said he thought they were newlyweds, but he couldn’t tell me anything else. I called Jane, but she never answered. I went to her car at the mall and wondered why that place didn’t show up on the map. I dialed again, and I could hear her phone inside her car.

That was why the map history showed nothing. I also found out Jane had not attended the gym in eight months. I didn’t know it then, but the previous night had been the last night I would ever sleep with Jane in the same bed.

I returned the car, went home, and called my parents. Fortunately, my dad answered. I told him everything. I was crying, and he comforted me.

He told me to get evidence. Obviously, my marriage was over, and I needed to gather everything I could while he contacted one of his friends, an excellent divorce lawyer. Jane called me when she saw the two missed calls. I simply told her I was already home.

She told me she was on her way from the gym. My gym. Yeah, I could guess.

When she saw me, she asked what had happened and why I had been crying. I don’t know how, but I was mentally focused. I smiled and told her I had the flu, and that was why I had left work early. I told her not to come near me because it might be a bug.

I told her I would get tested the next day and sleep in the spare room. She agreed. I cried silently and didn’t sleep a wink. Near midnight, I heard her giggling.

I guessed she was messaging Baldi, but I still didn’t find any evidence of her contacting another man. Then it hit me. Why hadn’t I seen it earlier? I bet the affair partner was disguised as one of her female co-workers.

In the morning, while Jane was in the shower, I took her phone, created a session on my laptop, and put her phone back in the same place. We both could unlock each other’s phones. The session worked while the phone was close to my laptop or on the same Wi-Fi network.

Then I saw it. Under a female name, the profile picture was a dumbbell. I entered the chat, and most of the conversations were deleted. I guessed they used work words as code in case I snooped.

“Can you deliver the papers to my desk?” I knew she didn’t have a desk at work.

“Going to the meeting. Where are you?” “On top of them.”

“Boss is in his office. He’s clueless.”

Pretty clever. I guessed I was “boss,” because I knew her actual boss was a woman.

Jane got out of the shower and saw me. She said, “You look worse. Why don’t you stay with your parents?”

I denied the idea, thinking about getting evidence. After Jane went out, I contacted my dad, and he gave me the name and number of the lawyer. I called him and explained everything. He told me the captions I took from my laptop were useless.

They didn’t contain actual evidence because it wasn’t the affair partner’s real name, and Jane had been smart enough to leave pieces of conversation that looked innocent. I could take pictures of them at the mall, but she could argue they were just good friends. I also couldn’t invade the residential area without permission because it could get me into more trouble.

At work, I was in zombie mode, thinking about how to get evidence. I considered installing secret cameras in my house, but Baldi rarely went to my home, and Jane might find them. Unless I was out of the picture.

I texted Jane and told her I had tested positive for the bug and would stay at my parents’ house because I might need help. She liked the idea and told me she would miss me, but she would call every day. When I hung up, I called my dad and my brother.

When I got home, she had already packed my suitcase for me. She was so eager to get rid of me. I told her I would take my laptop. Then I checked her messages.

“Boss will be out of the office. When can I come to my desk?”

She sent that message almost immediately after I told her I had tested positive for the bug. Good. She took the bait. We didn’t have dinner, no kisses, no hugs.

I noticed her looking at her watch twice from the door. I told her I would miss her. I was expecting her to shut the door in my face, but she walked me to my car. Then I was gone.

My dad and brother were outside the building, waiting for Baldi to appear, but he didn’t show up. After half an hour, I thought, “Why did she walk me to my car?” Of course. Because Baldi was already inside the building waiting, perhaps inside her car.

It would have been very suspicious if her “massage therapist” had come at that hour. I hurried back to my house and entered silently. I heard music coming from the bedroom, along with moaning. Next to the door, there was a sofa, and his and her clothes were on it.

I put my phone on record and opened the bedroom door. There she was, my wife, the love of my life for 11 years, with Baldi behind her. I got a clear few seconds of both of their faces when they saw me open the door. Jane screamed and covered herself with the blanket.

Baldi immediately went alpha male. He walked naked toward me. I had recorded him with my wife. He yelled aggressively, “Why don’t you go for a walk, buddy?”

I hit his throat with my open hand. I had seen that movement in the Mel Gibson movie Ransom. The next second, Baldi was coughing, gasping, and kneeling on the floor. I yelled, “Get out of my house,” and kicked him out.

I threw his clothes at him just as my dad, my brother, and Mr. P were arriving at my house. I told them, “I’ll take it from here,” and closed the door.

Jane was still on the bed, covering herself. She was trembling. I told her, “I have never hurt you, nor will I. Get dressed. I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

While I was waiting, I sent the video to my lawyer. He answered, “I’m sorry for you, but jackpot.”

A few minutes later, Jane showed up. She couldn’t look me in the eyes. I started recording the conversation. I asked, “Why?”

She didn’t answer. I asked, “Was I such an awful husband to you?” She started crying but didn’t answer. I asked, “Do you love him?”

She shook her head, but no words came out. I stood up, hit the table, and said, “Say something, damn it.” She opened her eyes wide and started trembling again like a scared puppy. I had never yelled at her before.

I sat down and spoke calmly. “My lawyer will contact you for the divorce. Get a lawyer.”

She finally spoke. “We can fix this.”

“Fix what?” I asked. “Our marriage was over since Baldi entered the picture, and you chose him over me.”

“It was a mistake,” she said.

“No, it wasn’t. It was a choice. You chose, and this is the consequence. What did you think would happen when I found out?”

Silence again. I told her, “Go to your sister’s and tell her the truth, or I will show her the video.”

She went to the bedroom and started packing. I followed her and watched. For two days, I had been trying to convince myself that my wife was long gone, that the person I shared my house with was not my wife. But seeing her put her clothes neatly into the suitcase, with those graceful movements and those little things I loved about her, hit me hard.

I went to the spare room and started ugly crying. I heard when she closed the main door. She picked up the clothes that were on the sofa. She made the bed where I caught them, and I dropped to the floor.

Much later, I called my dad. He told me Baldi wanted to press charges, but Mr. P told him he hadn’t signed in, so he was trespassing, and the condo could sue him. Baldi dropped it and left. My nosy brother had pressed his ear to the door, and my dad dragged him away by the ear to his car.

I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept well in the previous days, so I almost passed out in the spare room. The next morning, my phone had a lot of messages from Jane apologizing and asking for a second chance. I just blocked her.

My sister-in-law called me. Apparently, Jane hadn’t told her what happened, only that we were fighting. I guess it is good my father-in-law is not alive to see Jane’s behavior. She was the youngest and his favorite.

My mother-in-law has senile dementia. All of this happened a week ago. Next week, Jane is going to be served.

Update 1

It has been 12 days since D-Day. What have I been doing since then?

D-Day plus one, Friday. I had a nice chat with Mr. P. He confessed that he had faked his shoulder pain. He just wanted to warn me about Baldi.

He also told me that a very nosy neighbor saw when I kicked Baldi naked out of my apartment. Surely, in a week, the whole condo will know my situation. My brother came to help me change the lock on the door. When he left, I felt so alone and cried a lot.

I called my job to ask for the day off. That night, I spoke to my lawyer. He said he was preparing the divorce papers. He couldn’t start until he had the evidence, so my divorce would be by mutual consent.

That is smoother than an at-fault divorce, which is longer and pretty nasty. He also told me not to share the video. Jane will be served in two weeks. My sister-in-law called me, but I told her to ask Jane why we were divorcing.

D-Day plus two, Saturday. My sister-in-law came over, and I showed her the video. I drove her home and saw Jane’s car there. When I got home, I felt crushed and cried some more.

D-Day plus three, Sunday. I visited my parents. My mom cried with me because she really loved Jane. My dad had a chat with me about my money, properties, and everything else.

When I returned home, Mr. P told me Jane and Baldi had shown up. I guess they are going to make their relationship public now that the cat is out of the bag. But strangely, they came at different times. Jane came in the morning.

She parked her car, saw mine wasn’t there, and tried to enter my house, but her key didn’t work anymore. Then she asked Mr. P if he knew where I went. He said he didn’t know and told her, “Mr. OP gave me this for you.”

It was my attorney’s card. She kept it and left. Baldi came in the afternoon and first asked to see Jane. Mr. P told him Mrs. Jane, with emphasis on Mrs., didn’t live there anymore.

Then Baldi asked to see me. Mr. P told him I was away and he had no idea when I would return. Then Baldi left. I guess they were not in contact yet.

I wanted to ask about Jane. Was she sad? Did she look healthy? Did she ask about my well-being? But then I remembered D-Day and just thanked Mr. P and said good night.

When I got home, I cried a lot again.

D-Day plus four, Monday. I didn’t want to, but something I learned from other people’s stories was to hit the gym hard. So I looked for a new gym near my job and had a good session. I felt pretty good.

Then I returned to work. At home, I didn’t cry this time. I started taking down all of Jane’s pictures.

D-Day plus five, Tuesday. I had a meeting with my lawyer to review my assets. Fortunately, my dad had made Jane sign a prenup, so she can’t touch anything I had before we got married, mainly my house. All remaining stuff gets divided 50/50, and I can get compensation for her adultery.

As compensation, I am going to take out alimony. I could fight for all the stuff, but everything reminds me of her, and I want to start new.

When I left home, I heard whispers. I turned my head and saw two neighbors, who immediately pretended they hadn’t seen me. They walked in front of me and greeted me. I knew this would happen.

After that, I went to the gym and work. This repeated all week, so I will omit D-Day plus six, Wednesday. Nothing interesting happened. I only have Facebook and social media, and I ignored all DMs asking me to contact Jane.

I closed them, opened Reddit, and had a nice time reading about people who overcame what I had been experiencing. I felt better. That was when I thought of sharing my own experience.

D-Day plus seven, Thursday. I started writing. I posted before going to the gym. When I was at work, it amazed me how many people were reacting to my story.

I answered some comments. D-Day plus eight, Friday. I was reading my comments and answering all morning. I was smiling.

It felt good to be appreciated. Two comments stuck in my mind, things I hadn’t thought about. One was to report the affair partner to my old gym. The other was that my home was tainted and I needed a fresh start.

So before I went to the gym, I looked for real estate agents to sell or rent my house. I am not comfortable here anymore. I haven’t entered my bedroom since D-Day. I have been sleeping in the spare room, and I don’t want to live like this.

D-Day plus nine, Saturday. Since Jane would probably come and bother me, I decided to spend the day outside. She did come. Then she visited my parents and brother.

They just texted me, “Jane came.” I answered, “Thank you. I don’t want to talk about her yet.”

D-Day plus ten, Sunday. I spent the day with my parents. We visited a town two hours from the city and had a blast. I don’t know if Jane came.

My dad told me not to sell my house, but to rent it. I agreed and went home. When I got home, Mr. P told me Baldi came in the afternoon alone again. He asked for me, but Mr. P told him I was away.

Baldi left without a word.

D-Day plus eleven, Monday. Yesterday morning, I went to my old gym. I was not sure if I would meet Baldi there. He worked in the afternoon before, but he was also sleeping with my wife in the afternoon, so I thought maybe he had changed his shift.

He was nowhere. I asked to talk to Frank, the gym owner. While I waited for him, I met an old janitor I used to chat with. He told me to say hi to Miss Jane.

I guess my new normal is telling everyone we split up. I smiled at him. Frank finally received me. I asked about Baldi.

He told me Monday was Baldi’s day off. Baldi had asked for more hours and now worked from Tuesday to Sunday in the morning. Then I explained the reason for my visit. Frank listened carefully until I finished.

Finally, I showed him the video. He stayed silent, thinking. Then he said, “You’re not going to like this.” I just thought, “What now?”

Frank called the receptionist and asked her to bring Harry, another coach and Baldi’s friend. Harry has a big beard. Frank asked him to tell me about Baldi’s girlfriend.

Fasten your seat belts. This is good. According to Harry, Baldi is head over heels for Jane. Frank confirmed it.

He told me Baldi had many complaints, especially from female members. But over the last months, he had changed. No complaints. He had become very professional with all the members.

Then Harry told me something that made my jaw drop. Baldi was trying to marry Jane by baby-trapping her.

I was processing this information when I felt something starting in my chest. It climbed up my throat and finally blew up in my mouth. I laughed. I swear, I was laughing like the Joker.

I even teared up a bit. Frank and Harry were very confused. I thought, “Oh, sweet karma. Thank you.”

After I calmed down, still with a big grin on my face, Harry asked what was going on. Frank explained, “This is Baldi’s girlfriend’s husband.”

Harry made a shocked face. “Oh man. This is bad. This is really messed up.”

Harry left. Next, Frank and I discussed firing Baldi. Frank said he had to report the situation to the coach association. He would surely have to fire Baldi because Jane had been a gym member at Frank’s gym.

That could have legal repercussions for Baldi’s licenses as a coach. I needed to make a legal document explaining that Baldi was the reason for my divorce, the case number of my divorce, and the video. My attorney would give the video to the coach association’s attorney. I cannot share it myself.

Baldi will lose his license from that association. He could go to another association and apply for another license, but it would take months. I asked if Baldi could appeal. Frank said he might, but it would be a waste of energy.

The association does not tolerate such conduct. Also, Baldi does not have the money to pay for someone to represent him. That reminded me of the residential area where he had entered with Jane. I had thought Baldi was wealthy.

Frank brought his face closer to me and asked, “What residential area?” I showed him on the maps app.

“You tailed them to this place?” he asked.

“I did, on D-Day minus one.”

Frank got angry. “That is where my late father’s house is.”

Frank’s father had passed away, and Frank inherited the house. All the equipment that is obsolete or needs repair goes to that house. He had lent Baldi the key so he could occasionally go and store some things there. But Baldi did not have permission to stay there.

Frank said Baldi surely had a copy of the key and might be living there illegally. He said he was going to investigate further. It would be easy, since there were tons of cameras in that place.

I was leaving the gym when I heard, “Mr. OP, Mr. OP, wait.” It was Harry. He told me he was sorry about what was happening. Baldi had never told him who his girlfriend was.

Baldi had only said he met her at the mall. I thanked him and took a step toward the exit. Harry rushed, “Can you tell me what happened?”

I told him, “Pretty much what you heard. He was sleeping with my wife, and now I am divorcing her.”

I took another step.

“What will happen to Baldi?” he asked.

“That depends on Frank and the coaches association.”

I tried to take another step, but he asked, “How are you handling it?”

That felt strange. I stared at Harry and remembered that Baldi had gone to my house twice. I said, “You called Baldi, and he’s on his way here, right? You’re just buying time. Am I wrong?”

He made a guilty face. “Please, Mr. OP, talk to him. He’s really desperate. He was crying yesterday. His girl—I mean your wife—isn’t returning his calls.”

I said, “Tell me, why should I care if he is rotting in hell?”

Harry said, “I’ll be here with you, so you don’t need to be scared.”

I laughed. “Scared of that weakling? He didn’t tell you I kicked him out of my house naked, right?”

Harry didn’t believe me. Fine. I decided to see what Baldi wanted.

I saw there were cameras where we were talking, so I sat at a table in the reception area. I didn’t think Baldi was stupid enough to attack me, but who knows? Besides, I was really curious about what he wanted.

He came running ten minutes later. He saw me waiting for him and extended his hand. I crossed my arms and left his hand hanging.

“What the hell do you want?” I asked, looking angrily into his eyes.

He sat in front of me. “Listen, buddy—”

“Stop right there. We are not buddies. Mr. S, the janitor, is my buddy. You are not.”

He seemed apologetic. “Okay, my bad. I want to say I’m sorry for everything. I never wanted to hurt you, and I really care about Jane.”

I said, “Well, you just said three lies to my face. You’re not sorry. You did mean to destroy my life. And you just care about yourself.”

He changed from apologetic to annoyed. “Okay, whatever, man. Just tell me where Jane is.”

“Last time I saw her was when I kicked her cheating butt out of my house after I kicked you out naked.”

I knew Harry was listening. Baldi’s face changed color to red. “That was a cheap shot. I should sue you.”

I said, “As far as I know, you entered my home illegally, and perhaps you were assaulting my wife. I have videos of you getting out, but you didn’t sign in.”

He changed again. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Tell me what you want from me. Please, tell Jane I need to speak to her.”

At that moment, Frank came in a rush. I guess he saw through the cameras that Baldi had shown up. He asked, “Everything okay here?”

“Everything is fine, Frank,” I said. “I was just telling this piece of trash what I want.”

I stood up and spoke close to Baldi’s face. “What I want is what is coming for you. What you deserve. What the law has prepared for you. I want to crush your dreams just like you did with mine. You want kids? Guess what? You won’t, and you will never have Jane.”

Baldi said, “What’s that supposed to mean?” But Frank asked him to see him in his office. Harry looked impressed. He grabbed Baldi’s arm and said, “Dude, you’re in deep crap.”

I finally left.

D-Day plus twelve, Tuesday. I feel ready to face Jane now. I am still grinning while I type this.

Update 2

I didn’t expect to update so soon, but something important happened. I would like to share something my therapist told me. Do you remember that I started therapy because Jane suggested I had trust issues? Turns out, I don’t have any.

I am one step away from becoming a very gullible person, but my therapist noticed I have a lot of insecurities due to my obesity. Since I can remember, I was a chubby, nerdy guy at school. Never a boyfriend. Always the best friend.

I had my first girlfriend at 18, and she dumped me a week later for a better-looking guy. I went to an engineering high school, so there were few ladies. My next relationship was in my twenties with a very toxic girl who blamed me for everything, even for the rain. She really did a job on me, making me feel guilty for anything that popped into her mind.

Later, I started working because my family had money problems, and I didn’t have another relationship until I met Jane at university.

In the therapy session before the last one, we discussed my feelings about not having kids. My therapist has helped me put my priorities in order. Number one is me and everything that covers myself: physical health, the gym, eating well, intelligence, studying, learning, mental challenges, soul, beliefs, morals, and ethics.

Number two is the people who live with me, which used to be Jane. Number three is family and friends. Number four is work. Number five is leisure and entertainment.

The last session was about Jane. My therapist asked about my plans. I told her I would divorce Jane. She told me it was normal that I was in such distress because my priority number two was crumbling.

She said I would have to pass through stages similar to grieving death: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I had to Google them because I forgot them. I am in the bargaining stage because I keep thinking a lot of “what ifs.” For example, what if she really is remorseful?

What if we are the golden couple who survives infidelity? But the reality is that I will never trust her ever again. It would kill me knowing she was at home alone doing God knows what while I was at work. That would be torture for me.

Depression is a dangerous stage in my case because it could lead me to gaining weight again. I should stick to the gym and watch my diet closely. I hope this information helps people who are grieving.

Now, the update. I have been very busy. I applied for a promotion at work. I could have taken it a long time ago, but it demands a lot of traveling.

I feel it will help me heal to be away. I have also been looking for a new place to live, and I found one small apartment perfect for me. I already paid three months of rent in advance. I will move as soon as possible.

I haven’t seen Jane since D-Day or Baldi since that Monday, when I am sure he was fired. On the bright side, one of my neighbors, a lady in her fifties, met me in the condo elevator. She told me she hadn’t seen Jane lately. I told her we were splitting apart.

Then she happened to remember she was having a dinner and that her single niece was coming for a few days, and she invited me. It took me by surprise. Looks like I am in the market again.

My attorney told me Jane was going to be served last Friday, but we had some festivities in my country, so she was served last Sunday morning at my in-laws’ home. The following Monday, somebody, Jane, I guess, slid a letter under my door. Three sheets, front and back, from Jane, mainly explaining what led her to cheat.

Here we introduce the second villain in the story, a co-worker I will call Flirty. I met her sometimes at Jane’s work events, like Christmas or anniversary celebrations. She is really thin, almost skinny, and usually wears a lot of makeup. She also thinks every man wants to sleep with her.

One time, she told Jane I was staring at her. I did stare once because I could see her ribs, and I thought she looked unhealthily thin.

Anyway, according to Jane’s letter, when she lost weight, Flirty approached her because she wanted them to be best friends since they were the two “hotties” at work. That was when the brainwashing started. Flirty made her think she deserved a better man and was entitled to it.

Flirty told her I was a pathetic man who would try to own her now that she was hot. When the incident with the Smith machine happened, Flirty said to Jane, “See? Didn’t I tell you? He wants to be your owner more than your husband.”

Jane bought it. Due to Flirty’s manipulation, she was resentful toward me for months. When we attended the gym at different times, Jane met Baldi accidentally at the mall, and he approached her. She confessed she had a crush on a guy similar to Baldi before she met me.

She had never told me that before. They went for a bite, and they both flirted. Jane showed Flirty Baldi’s picture from Facebook, and Flirty told her she would be dumb if she didn’t sleep with him. She also said her pathetic husband, meaning me, didn’t compare with that Greek god.

Jane had the opportunity. She was eager. So she did it.

Baldi took her to his house, which coincidentally was close to the mall where they ran into each other. So she didn’t know it was Frank’s father’s house.

All of this happened nine months ago. Flirty is a professional cheater. She told Jane how to cover her tracks: the work-word codes, how to hide Baldi’s contact, and how to hide her map tracking history. She even told her that changing her phone password would be stupid because I would immediately suspect something.

Jane noticed Baldi hated when she talked about me. As punishment, he made hickeys on her body. Now I remember she started wearing pajamas to sleep because it was “cold.” He used to trash-talk me, but she never played along.

Meanwhile, Flirty used to tell her she was entitled to this romance and that I deserved to be cheated on because I was a beta. During those months, Jane said she liked the feeling of danger, the thrill, and that the sex with Baldi was good. But it also hurt her to see me struggle, trying to be a better husband, while knowing she was the reason for my pain.

It was easier to ignore me and continue with the pleasure Baldi gave her.

Then D-Day arrived. I completely blindsided her. She thought I was clueless.

I am going to write this part just like she wrote it. “I was in shock, and I covered myself with a blanket by pure instinct. When I reacted, I saw you pushing and kicking Baldi out of the room and the house. When I heard you closing the door and coming back, I didn’t know what to say.”

“I had never seen you that angry before. Then you said, ‘I have never hurt you, nor will I.’ That is true. In the years we have known each other, you have never hurt me, not even when we found out it was my fault that we couldn’t have children.”

After that, she heard me crying in the spare room. She wanted to comfort me, but how could she? At the main door, we have a mirror to check ourselves before going out. She looked at herself but couldn’t bear the sight.

When she entered her car, she cried and asked herself, “What have I done?” Baldi called her that night, but she blocked him. She arrived at my sister-in-law’s house around midnight, two hours after the drama. Her house is about 40 minutes from mine.

She was scared to tell my sister-in-law what happened because my sister-in-law is older and has a very strong character. The next day, she told Flirty what had happened. Flirty told her she should be happy she got rid of me.

I am going to copy this part too.

“And then what, babe? You’re free. You can have sex with Baldi or any guy you want.”

“And then?”

“I don’t follow you.”

“What will happen when I’m tired of having sex with a bunch of guys?”

“Then you can decide which one to date seriously.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know. Get married, I suppose.”

“But I already had a marriage.”

“But it was with OP. He’s a loser. I bet Baldi is a hundred times better than him.”

“No, that’s not true. He gave me a good life.”

“Don’t settle for so little. You can have a better man.”

Then they had a big fight in front of the co-workers. Jane can’t recall it well, but she remembers swearing and yelling at Flirty. Flirty told her that any guy hotter than me was better than me. I don’t understand what she has against me, but Jane realized what she had destroyed.

She was inconsolable, and her boss let her go home early. The next day was when I showed my sister-in-law the video. Jane was babysitting my sister-in-law’s twins. After I drove my sister-in-law home, she asked Jane to help her go do some errands, just the two of them.

That was a lie. They parked at a park, and my sister-in-law demanded to know what was going through Jane’s head when she cheated on me. Jane cried and said, “I don’t know.”

My sister-in-law confessed she had been envious of our marriage. Eleven years and not a huge fight. We both looked happy. She couldn’t believe her little sister was capable of such a thing.

Jane had been there for my sister-in-law when her ex-husband left her for another woman. Jane asked her not to kick her out. My sister-in-law told her she could stay because the house belonged to both of them, but she let Jane know she was very disappointed and that she would side with me if I ever needed help. Jane understood.

The next Sunday, Jane came to apologize, but I was not home. When she received my attorney’s card, she called, and my attorney confirmed I had hired him. She knew I was really going to divorce her. So she went to her new home, wrote a confession, and sent it to everybody we both know.

I started receiving messages and phone calls the following week, but I didn’t want to read her answer. Now I have read some of the DMs, and most of them want to comfort me. One of her cousins said it takes guts to confess, so I should give her a chance.

The following week, Jane tried to distract herself with work. But it seems everyone now knows she cheated. In my country, if you are unfaithful, people see you like an easy woman. So female co-workers don’t talk to her, especially Flirty, and male co-workers are annoyingly friendly to her.

She would have to be relocated, but that would take months, so she quit her job the following Friday. She has a good amount of savings. We had separate finances, and since I was the big earner, I paid for almost everything.

The next day, she was looking for me. In her words, she wanted to beg me to take her back. She came here, but when she saw I wasn’t home, she went to my parents. My dad refused to speak to her.

My mom was sympathetic and told her she was sorry about all of this, but her son, me, was really hurt and had asked them not to talk about her anymore. Jane understood, then went to my brother’s house. He told her, “OP is not here, and frankly, I don’t want to talk to you,” and closed the door in her face.

She came back to her new house very sad. All last week, she had been reflecting on her actions. She has been really depressed, realizing how much damage she did to our relationship, to her family, and to mine. All for the meaningless pleasure coming from a douchebag who, in her words, believes vaccines are just a pharmacy scam and believes in astrology.

Yes, Baldi is heavily tattooed. He has a Taurus sign on his arm.

My sister-in-law suggested Jane go to therapy. I don’t blame her. If my brother were in the same situation, I would be very disappointed, but I would try to make him realize what was wrong with him. Jane finally went to therapy, and her therapist suggested she write me this letter and come clean to me.

So she says everything written in the letter is true. She swears on her life that if I take her back, there will be no spouse in the history of humanity more grateful, loyal, and honest than her. She suggests total access to her social media, which I already had. She says she will always answer my calls, no matter the situation, and will never have friends I don’t approve of.

There are more things about family and friends that I don’t think are important to share because they need a lot of context. Finally, she pleads to meet me and let her apologize properly to my face. In her words, “Sorry doesn’t begin to describe what I’m feeling right now.”

What do I think of this letter? The things I can confirm are that she hasn’t contacted Baldi since that Monday when he was fired, and she confessed to family and friends. The rest could be partially true. Also, I am sure it has been sweetened.

For example, she does not mention when she called me jealous and immature. She does not mention letting Baldi sleep with her without protection. She can give me all her passwords, but she lied to my face and gaslighted me for nine months, according to her, and she was very good at it.

Besides, I don’t want to be her jailer. As I said, I will never trust her ever again. When I see her face, I will also see Baldi with her. I will not be her second option, nor will I be a doormat.

I haven’t replied yet, but I think I will see her next weekend.

Update 3

I have been silent because I needed time to reflect, and I finally got it. Thank you very much. It has been some very rough days. For those who want to know, I did meet Jane.

No, I did not answer her letter. It happened because of a dumb mistake I made. I will explain.

A few days after my last post, I had an anxiety attack due to all the stress I had bottled up. According to my therapist, my life had made a 180-degree change, and my mind had not had time to adjust. It was my first time having this kind of episode.

I thought I was having a stroke. Tachycardia, sweating, and panic clouded my judgment. My co-workers called emergency services, and an ambulance came for me. If I hadn’t been so scared, I might have enjoyed the ride.

I was so sure that at any moment I would die. The paramedic kept repeating, “Mister, you’re having a panic attack. Everything is going to be fine.” I tried to focus on his words, but I couldn’t.

My only thought was, “I’m going to die.” At the hospital, they sedated me, and I started to feel better and sleepy. I could answer questions. The doctor asked me for my name, my age, and what day it was.

I answered correctly until I passed out. When I woke up, guess who was next to me? Jane. I had forgotten to remove her name and number as my emergency contact.

I was very confused because of the drugs. I smiled at her and said, “Jane.” She was sitting there reading a book, and when she heard me, she jumped out of her seat and approached me. She had tears in her eyes and told me, “Hello, my love. You really scared us.”

That was when everything came back to me. I stopped smiling and asked, “What are you doing here?” I tried to sit up, but my body felt numb and clumsy. She shushed me and told me to take it easy, no sudden movements, and that she would get the doctor.

She kissed my forehead and left. I wanted to avoid the kiss, but my reflexes were numb. The kiss felt so familiar, but I know it had been more than a year since she kissed me with sincere love.

While she was gone, I looked around. I was in a big room with six other beds. Four of them had patients in them, all separated by curtains for privacy. I also noticed I wasn’t wearing my clothes, but a hospital robe.

A few minutes later, Jane came back with a doctor. I had slept for 26 hours. The doctor explained everything about the anxiety attack I had suffered. He asked me if I had stopped taking any medication.

Jane and I answered almost at the same time, “I don’t.” “He doesn’t take any meds.” I hate how well she knows me.

The doctor told me the episode came from heavy stress, a sudden change in my life, or both. I glanced at Jane, but she hid her eyes. He ordered some days off to reflect and get therapy. I told him I was already in therapy, but the doctor said I needed to see a psychiatrist.

My therapist is a thanatologist psychologist, so she can’t prescribe medication. The doctor told me I must be hungry and that I would be discharged the next day. Then he left.

It was 8 p.m., so Jane had another hour until visiting hours were over, and she didn’t look like she wanted to leave. It felt awkward, and that feeling makes me chatter like an idiot. So I asked, “You said I scared us. Who is us?”

She smiled. I bet she knew I couldn’t resist talking. “Your parents and me. They were here in the morning.”

“Did they leave?”

“Yes. They are expecting my call.”

“I’ll talk to them tomorrow. You can leave. I want to sleep.”

“But your dinner is almost here.”

When the doctor mentioned I must be hungry, my stomach grumbled. I hadn’t eaten anything for 26 hours. A few minutes later, a veteran nurse came with a tray on a cart. She asked Jane to adjust the bed so I could sit up to eat.

I don’t know what kind of face I made, because Jane looked amused and kept staring at me while the nurse arranged the tray in front of me on my bed. I am an ex-glutton guy. Jane said, “God, I love you so much.”

I glared at her again and asked her one more time to go home. But the nurse got really mad at me. According to her, Jane had sponge-bathed me and even shaved me. I didn’t notice until she told me.

Finally, the nurse asked Jane to feed me because I was still coming out of the medication. I told the nurse we were getting divorced, but she said that was not her problem and that I should be thanking Jane. She said Jane had been there to help, and I was being very ungrateful. Then she left.

I refused Jane’s help and tried to eat, even though my movements were very clumsy. I was making a mess with the soup, and Jane begged me to let her help me. I felt like a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum. I just said, “Fine,” and let her feed me.

I had never felt so vulnerable before. She behaved very maternally and affectionately. I could take a close look at her. She wasn’t wearing makeup, and I saw more expression lines on her face. She also has crow’s feet now.

I felt better after I finished eating. She took the tray out of the room. She was in a good mood. I saw a patient in front of me, a man in his fifties, checking Jane out when she went out and came back.

I was not surprised. She was wearing a coat and jeans, but she is very pretty. I didn’t like the feeling of being in debt to her. When she sat down, I said, “Thanks for being here.”

She looked me in the eyes and smiled. “Anytime.”

She tried to comb the hair on my forehead with her hand, but I was able to reject her this time. She looked hurt, and I said nothing. She tried to grab my hand, but I removed it. Then she asked, “Can we talk, please?”

I remained silent. There are only two reasons for me to at least be cordial to her. The first is the twins. They were not baptized when they were toddlers, but after my sister-in-law’s ex went away, Jane and I supported my sister-in-law and the twins.

I love those two little rascals with all my heart. When we babysat them, I told Jane it would count as parenting training for when we had our own. That will never happen now. My sister-in-law asked us to be their godparents, and I teared up with emotion.

They are the closest thing I have to a daughter and a son. I know Jane loves them too. I don’t want any drama near my godson and goddaughter, and I miss them so much. I haven’t seen them since about a week before D-Day.

I also haven’t spoken to them because I was avoiding Jane. So I told her, “Okay. Let’s talk in the condo. I’ll contact you soon.”

She offered to take me home the next day when I was discharged. I told her no, I would ask my parents to come for me, and I would see her again in the condo. I wanted to talk to my parents. She noticed I was looking for my clothes.

She opened a cabinet next to my bed and gave me my phone. I looked at her suspiciously, and she gave me her guilty face again, meaning I was sure she had snooped through my phone, and she admitted it. We didn’t utter a word. That is the language we developed after being married 11 years.

I didn’t care if she snooped. I had nothing to hide. I texted my parents, and they called almost immediately. While I was talking to them, the same old nurse told Jane visiting hours were over.

Jane wanted to say goodbye, but I ignored her. She whispered in my ear, “I know you keep your word. I’ll wait for you to contact me. I love you.” Then she kissed my hair and left.

I do keep my word. My father always told me a man is worth as much as his word.

I asked my parents if they knew what happened after I passed out. According to them, one of my co-workers showed up at the hospital to give information about my medical security. That was when the staff saw the emergency contact and called Jane. My sister-in-law contacted my parents after the hospital called.

When Jane came, she met my co-worker, and he left. Jane was waiting for the doctor assigned to me when my parents arrived. My dad was very cordial to her and asked what she knew. After a while, a nurse called out for the relatives of patient OP.

They stood up, and the nurse guided them to the doctor. They had already tested my blood and told them I was physically healthy. My anxiety attack came from a psychological aspect. The doctor asked for Jane to see me because she was the emergency contact.

She promised my parents she would call them after seeing me. When she came back, she was surprised my parents were still there waiting. She gave them a ride home while telling them she had helped the nurses undress me and put the hospital robe on me. They didn’t talk about our divorce.

My parents thanked her for the ride and agreed to visit in the morning, then she would switch with them in the afternoon around 1 p.m. I also called my sister-in-law to thank her for calling my parents. Luckily, my godchildren were still up, and I could speak to them. They were drawing get-well-soon cards for me.

I promised to visit the next weekend. The next day was Thursday. I was discharged from the hospital, and my parents took me to my new home.

A week before my panic attack, I had started moving into my new place. I took my personal belongings. Everything else will stay in the condo because I will rent it fully furnished. Luckily, there are three universities nearby, and I know there are students who would kill for a place like mine.

I have already bought the basic furniture: a refrigerator, a stove, a bed, a table with chairs, a desk, and cleaning tools. I have to learn how to cook my meals from now on. For the first time, I felt thrilled that I could call this little apartment my own place.

I bought a nice warm jacket for Mr. P. I gave it to him, thanked him for his help, and told him I would visit from time to time. I didn’t attend my neighbor’s dinner. I don’t feel like dating yet.

I think I need more therapy and more healing. At my new home, I reflected on my goals for meeting Jane. I concluded that I needed closure. I needed to understand her actions, make her understand there is no possible reconciliation, and end things amicably.

I will divorce her and move on. But I don’t want to lose my in-laws: my sweet and incoherent mother-in-law, my stubborn and strong sister-in-law, and her twins, whom I love. I don’t want to miss their birthdays or future achievements. I want to be at least cordial to Jane.

At work, my boss gave me five days off starting the next week. I didn’t want to stay in, so I went to the beach. It really helped me be away from everything and rest.

I realized I do love my wife, but the chubby one. The one who got excited when Pizza Fridays arrived. The one I married 11 years ago. The one who supported my dreams and hopes.

The one who hugged me when life got rough. I don’t know what happened to her. Did vanity kill her? Was it lust? I have no idea.

But I loved my wife deeply. And the one who betrayed me is not my wife.