My Husband Of 8 Years Admitted I Was Just The “Consolation Prize.” He Only Married Me To Stay Close To My Beautiful Younger Sister. How Do I Ever Trust My Life Again?
The Journal
Three days later I drove back to the house while Dylan was at work to get more clothes and toys for the kids. Walking through the front door felt wrong, like I was trespassing in someone else’s home instead of the place I’d lived for eight years.
The living room still had our family photos on the walls and the couch we’d picked out together, but everything looked different now. Like props in a play about someone else’s life.
I moved through each room gathering things for the kids, opening closets and drawers I’d organized myself, touching furniture we’d saved up to buy. The kitchen had the coffee maker Dylan used every morning and my favorite mugs still sitting in the dish rack. I packed the kids’ winter coats from the hall closet and grabbed their favorite stuffed animals from their beds.
My daughter’s room had drawings taped to the walls and my son had his collection of toy cars lined up on the shelf. I took photos of their rooms on my phone so I could try to make Luna’s spare room feel more like home for them.
In our bedroom I started pulling clothes from my side of the closet and that’s when I noticed Dylan’s nightstand drawer was slightly open. I knew I shouldn’t look but I pulled it open anyway. Inside was his old leather journal from college that I’d seen him write in years ago but thought he’d stopped using.
The first page I opened to was dated three months after we started dating. He’d written about a family barbecue at my parents’ house where Luna wore a sundress and how he couldn’t stop watching her. The entry said she was the one that got away and I was “good enough for now” until he could figure out a better plan.
I sat down hard on the bed and kept reading. Page after page of entries about Luna mixed in with entries about me and the contrast was brutal. When he wrote about Luna he used words like “captivating” and “magnetic” and “perfect.” When he wrote about me he used words like “practical” and “safe” and “acceptable.”
There was an entry from the week he proposed to me where he wrote about how marrying me was the smart move because it kept him connected to Luna and my parents liked him. He actually wrote out a plan for how being my husband would give him more access to family events where Luna would be.
I took photos of every page with my phone, my hands shaking so hard I had to retake several shots. This wasn’t just drunk talk at a Christmas party. This was eight years of calculated settling written down in his own handwriting. I shoved the journal back in the drawer and finished packing as fast as I could, desperate to get out of that house.
The Family Stands Together
Sunday dinner at my parents’ house felt more like a war meeting than a family meal. Luna came with me for support and my parents had already set the table with extra food like they were preparing for a long discussion.
My father barely let me sit down before he started talking about taking Dylan for everything in the divorce. My mother agreed, saying I deserved every penny after what he’d done. I tried to explain that I just wanted out and fair custody of the kids, but my father kept interrupting with ideas about how to maximize my settlement.
Luna backed me up, reminding them that dragging things out would be harder on the kids. My mother cried through most of dinner, apologizing for not seeing what Dylan was really like. My father wanted to know every detail of what Dylan had said at the party and I had to repeat it all again.
By the time dessert came around I felt exhausted from rehashing everything. My parents meant well but their anger was overwhelming when I just wanted to move forward quietly.
Back at Luna’s apartment that night, my phone started ringing from a number I didn’t recognize. I answered and heard Dylan’s voice immediately. He was calling from different numbers because I’d blocked his cell.
The voicemail he left was apologetic, begging me to talk to him. An hour later another call came from a different number and this voicemail was angry, accusing me of turning everyone against him. Then another call, another number, back to apologetic.
Jamaica told me to save every single voicemail and text for documentation. She said the pattern of harassment would matter in court, especially the way he kept changing between sorry and hostile. I started a folder on my phone just for Dylan’s messages and it filled up fast.
Workplace Fallout
Marissa stopped by Luna’s place with coffee and news from the neighborhood. She’d heard through Brett’s wife that several people at Dylan’s company had complained to HR about his comments at the Christmas party. Apparently Dylan had a reputation at work for talking about Luna in ways that made people uncomfortable.
Brett got pulled into HR to give a statement about what he’d witnessed and other co-workers came forward with their own stories. One woman said Dylan had shown her Luna’s social media photos and made inappropriate comments. Another said he’d compared his wife unfavorably to his sister-in-law at multiple company events. Marissa said the whole office was talking about it and Dylan’s boss was not happy.
I felt sick knowing his obsession with Luna had been so obvious to his co-workers while I’d been at home thinking our marriage was normal.
The Kids and Counseling
The kids needed help processing everything so I enrolled them in temporary counseling through their school. The counselor was kind and experienced with children of divorce. After their first session she told me they were doing okay overall, but my son kept asking if Daddy stopped loving Mommy.
That question broke my heart because I didn’t know how to explain that Daddy never loved Mommy the way he should have. The counselor said it was normal for kids to worry the parent who left might stop loving them too. She gave me scripts for how to reassure them that both parents loved them even though we couldn’t live together anymore. My daughter seemed to be handling things better but she’d started having nightmares about our family breaking apart.
