3 She Hath No Fury

He thought I didn't know about his affair.

I did.

He and I met a year or so before you and he did. We met at a cafe', set up by mutual friends of ours, We hit it off right away and I knew, from the moment I looked into his eyes, I was going to marry him. At that time, I believed he was absolutely in love with me.

That all changed on that faithful night at the bar.

I was sitting at the table next to you. I saw the moment I lost him. I practically heard the pop of electricity pass between you both. Looking back, I can't remember how it all transpired, I just remember that some how, as a result of that night, you, he and I became "best friends"....rather you and he became secret lovers and I became the third wheel. But I loved him, so I was able to force myself to live with it.

I thought that when you'd met and married your husband, things would change, but they didn't. I realize now that you were just playing the part of a 20 something year old woman, dutifully getting married. Oh how I wished that you and he would no longer carry on this romance. Now I realize that you were his splash of color in his beige world with me.

When you announced your pregnancy, I was confident that things would change then. Surely you wouldn't cheat on your husband, the father of your child. The day you went to the hospital to have your son, I went to your house and cleaned it up for you, making sure it was pristine for you and the baby...my peace offering.

Then I saw your son and my heart shattered. If you were to put a baby picture of my husband next to your son, they could be twins. You'd given him what I never could.....a child. My infertility prevented us from having a family, but you....you were once again perfect and providing for him where I couldn't be.

The day he died, I turned to you for comfort because I knew you would know how I felt. We both lost our heart that day. I watched as my stepson cried over the loss of his "Uncle". Together, you and I picked out his suit, pulling it from the hanger for his funeral, both of us sliding something into the pocket.

After he passed, you and I became a colder version of friends. We were only friends on the surface. I was there when my stepson got married.

I was there when you passed away.

I saw the aftermath of you handing out your confessions to your husband and son. I played the part of anger widow very well. Of course, they were devastated.

Me?

I'd know about it for so long I'd grown to accept it.

I hope you are together, where ever you are. Know that I'm not angry. Not anymore. Because I can die knowing I gave our married my all and stayed faithful.

Pity neither of you could do the same.