My Husband’s Mistress Showed Up At My Door And Handed Me Her Coat, Thinking I Was “The Help.” She Didn’t Realize I Own The House, The Company Her Father Works For, And The Bank Account Funding Her Vacation. Am I Wrong For Destroying Their Lives?
The Aftermath
That night I went home to the empty house and stood in the kitchen staring at nothing. The settlement papers were in my bag and my wedding ring was still on my finger, and I realized I’d been married for 12 years to someone I never really knew.
I walked upstairs to our bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed, and finally let myself cry. Not quiet tears, but loud, ugly sobbing that came from somewhere deep in my chest. I cried for the 25-year-old girl who worked two jobs to put her husband through medical school. I cried for every time I covered his practice losses without complaining. I cried for the future I thought we’d have—kids and retirement and growing old together. I cried for the person I thought Richard was, the man I married who apparently never existed at all.
I cried until my throat hurt and my eyes were swollen and I had no tears left. And then I lay down on the bed, still wearing my work clothes, and stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep.
The next few weeks felt strange and disconnected, like I was living in some in-between place. Technically I was still married, but Richard was gone and the house was mine alone. I couldn’t make myself care about redecorating or changing anything because it all felt temporary, like I was waiting for something to start. I threw myself into work, getting to the office by 7:00 and staying until 8:00 or 9 at night. Gita watched me with worried eyes but didn’t push. The empty house was easier to handle when I was too tired to think about it.
Knox came into my office one Tuesday with quarterly reports, and he was professional and thorough like always. After he left, Corey stopped by and closed my door. He said Knox had been seeing a therapist to deal with guilt about what Alexis did. That Knox blamed himself for raising a daughter who could hurt someone that way. Corey said Knox never mentioned it at work and kept his head down, but the therapy was helping him process everything. I felt surprised respect for Knox that he was taking responsibility for his part even though Alexis was an adult who made her own choices.
A few weeks later, Knox caught me in the hallway and asked if he could speak to me for a minute. He said carefully, like he was walking through a minefield, that Alexis had moved back home after Richard couldn’t afford her apartment anymore. He told me his daughter was working with a therapist and deeply regretted what she did. That she wanted to apologize someday if I’d be willing to hear it.
I looked at Knox’s tired face and saw a father who was hurting for his child’s mistakes. I didn’t respond to what he said about Alexis because I wasn’t ready for that conversation. Just nodded once and walked away. Knox didn’t bring it up again.
I heard through mutual friends that Richard’s medical practice was struggling worse than ever without my money propping it up. Someone told me he was meeting with business brokers about selling the practice. That he might not have a choice if things didn’t turn around soon. Part of me felt vindicated that the consequences were real and immediate, but mostly I just felt sad that 12 years of marriage ended with him selling the dream I helped him build. That it all came down to money and lies and a 25-year-old girl who thought she could have someone else’s life.
