My Husband’s Girl Best Friend Told Me He’s Only With Me Because She Was Married

When my turn came, I told Jar that I sometimes shut down during fights instead of working through them because conflict scared me. That distance I created gave Lily space to insert herself as his emotional support.

Sienna nodded and said this honesty was necessary even though it hurt. We both contributed to the cracks Lily exploited, which didn’t make Lily’s behavior okay but helped us understand how to build something stronger.

The work felt exhausting, sitting in that office every week picking apart our marriage and our individual issues. But slowly I started seeing small changes in how we talked to each other at home.

Three months after the restraining order, Jamar’s friend Diego called him sounding uncomfortable. He said Lily had reached out asking Diego to pass along a message.

Diego told Jar he’d refused and actually decided to cut ties with Lily completely after Jar explained the full situation. Jamar immediately called Brady to report the attempted contact.

Brady documented it as another violation of the restraining order’s terms about indirect contact through third parties. The police contacted Lily with a warning that any further attempts would result in her arrest.

Brady said this violation actually helped our case by showing she couldn’t follow court orders even with legal consequences hanging over her. Dylan’s security consultant friend reminded us to stay alert because stalkers with obsessive patterns rarely give up completely.

They just get quieter and wait for perceived opportunities. Our eighth anniversary arrived on a random Tuesday, and instead of throwing a party like last year, Jar and I stayed home and ordered takeout from our favorite restaurant.

We sat on the couch eating pasta and talking about how different this year felt from last year’s celebration where Lily had pulled me aside and started this whole nightmare. Jamar handed me an envelope after dinner.

Inside was a letter he’d written in therapy about his commitment to our marriage and his understanding of how badly he’d failed me. I cried reading his words about taking responsibility without making excuses.

He wrote about recognizing that his actions hurt me regardless of his intentions and about promising to do better every single day even when it was hard. We weren’t back to where we were before all this happened and, honestly, we never would be.

That version of our marriage was built on false foundations where Jar had inappropriate boundaries and I avoided difficult conversations. But we were building something new that felt more honest with actual communication instead of assumptions.

Some days I genuinely believed we’d make it through this stronger than before. I started seeing my own therapist separately from our couples sessions, a woman named Doctor Beck who specialized in trust issues and relationship trauma.

She helped me understand that Jar’s betrayal was real even if it wasn’t a physical affair. Emotional infidelity and poor boundaries caused legitimate damage.

I was allowed to grieve. Doctor Beck said I didn’t have to forgive quickly or pretend to be over it just because Jar was trying harder now.

Healing happened on my timeline, not anyone else’s schedule. One evening Jar came home from work looking excited instead of his usual cautious, careful mood.

He told me his boss had offered him a promotion to senior manager. Instead of celebrating with co-workers first or waiting to tell me later, he came straight home to share the news with me.

He asked if we could go out to dinner to celebrate together. I felt myself smile genuinely for the first time in months.

It wasn’t because of the promotion itself, but because he’d immediately included me instead of compartmentalizing his work life like he used to do. Small moments like this showed me he was really trying to change his patterns.

I was learning to acknowledge his efforts even while I was still healing from everything that happened. Six months after the restraining order became permanent, Jamar and I drove three hours north to a small cabin by a lake for the weekend.

We needed space away from our house where Lily had sat on our couch and cooked in our kitchen and tried to take my husband. The cabin had two bedrooms and a porch overlooking the water, and we spent the first evening just sitting outside watching the sunset without talking much.

The next morning Jamar made coffee and we sat at the wooden table discussing whether we should sell our house and buy something new in a different neighborhood. He said a fresh start might help us leave behind all the bad memories.

I agreed that coming home to the same living room where I’d found him looking at photos with Lily still made my chest tight sometimes. We looked at real estate listings on my phone and talked about what we wanted in our next place.

Maybe something with a bigger yard and a proper office for each of us so we had our own spaces. That afternoon we walked around the lake and Jamar held my hand the whole time.

He told me he was proud of how strong I’d been through everything and sorry again for not protecting our marriage better. I told him I was learning to forgive him, even though some days were harder than others.

I told him I believed we could build something better than what we had before because now we both understood what real boundaries looked like. I know Lily’s obsession might come back someday because people like her don’t just stop wanting what they’ve fixated on for years.

I know Jar’s emotional affair and his choosing to confide in her instead of me left damage that will take years to fully heal. But we’re both in therapy every week and we’re both trying to be honest even when it’s uncomfortable.

We’re building a marriage where nobody else gets space to wedge themselves between us ever again. Some days I’m genuinely happy with him and other days I still feel angry about everything he let happen.

But I’m choosing to stay and do the work because I think we can make it.