The Other Woman
July 26, 2019
Ariella Jacobs

One of the hardest things I went through was finding out I was the other woman. Yes, you heard me right. I’m not proud of it. I met a guy at a bar a few years back. He approached me and we immediately hit it off. To all of you wondering, no, he didn’t wear his wedding ring. After that night we embarked on a secret relationship.

 

I thought we had a great connection. He was the definition of charming and I couldn’t help myself from falling in love with him. We spent a lot of time together and I felt great confidence in our relationship, in us. I even introduced him to my parents! However, I had my doubts. He never introduced me to his parents, we never spent the night at his place and he was very secretive about his workplace and his life. I never tried searching for him on social media because he told me he didn’t use any of them, and I believed him.

 

A few months into our relationship, after my suspicions grew stronger and stronger, I asked him about all of it. He tried to reassure me, said he was just trying to figure us out, and gave me a chain of random excuses I am sure he said to other girls before. But once again, I fell for it, like a fool. I wanted to believe that he was telling me the truth, to convince myself I found the right one.

 

When my birthday came, he said he had a surprise for me. Now looking back, it was not such a big thing. He “let” me spend the night at his place. A few wine glasses later, I waited for him in the bedroom while he was washing the dishes. I know it’s rude, but I was curious and the suspicions took over me, so I looked in his drawers. Eventually, I found it, the ring, along with photos of his wife and kids.

 

I was devastated. How could I trust him? Why didn’t I listen to my gut? I felt disgusting. But more than I cared about myself, I cared about that poor woman that didn’t know her husband was a lame excuse for a man. I felt bad for her, I cried for her. I carried the guilt with me for years, even though it wasn’t mine to carry. It’s not easy finding out you’re the other woman. It’s is something you take with you for years, a big scar on your body. I continue hoping this woman had the place in her heart to forgive me, I still owe it to her, even if I didn’t know.

 

You may also like