Saturday, October 31, 2015


I  don't know what happened. 

Yesterday started out great.  There was a Halloween parade at the school, and a class party afterwards.  I brought homemade cupcakes, and was there helping out.  Assisted kids with their costumes for the parade, then poured juice in cups for the party.  Derek had a great time, as he does every Halloween.

He was also excited that he did not have to take the bus home.  Since I was there anyway, I signed him out early, and we drove home in order to get a head start on Halloween.  As I drove into the driveway, I saw that Philip had some home early from work.  We carved the pumpkin together, like always.

Today, the three of us met with Chloe and her son, Cody, and we walked around together, house to house, trick or treating.  It was like all the other Halloweens in our past.  Derek was happy, and Philip and I seemed to be getting along well.  We were a family again.

We came home after about two hours later, with the bag sufficiently stocked with candy.   Derek took a bath, and got into his pajamas.  We lit the candle in the pumpkin that was carved yesterday, and then together, we watched the "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" DVD with glasses of hot apple cider for each of us.  

After Derek went to bed, Philip's smile went away, and his expression became cold.  Suddenly, he asked me to leave.   It came out of nowhere, and I was stunned!  What did I do?  Did he wait until Halloween was over before he hit me with the news?  Guess so.  Maybe he was planning this all along.

I thought that we had been getting along so well.  Guess not.  Sure, we avoided talking about the marriage, and went into our separate areas of the house, but it was working.  All we needed was more time.   I guess that my master plan was not working as well as I thought.  Tonight, P actually mentioned the word divorce, and he practically laughed in my face when I suggested marriage counseling.  So much for that idea.

So at nine o'clock, and after a week back at home, I walked next door with my tail between my legs.  T is working, so no one was there to greet me and tell me that it was all right.  Right now, it is just me, the laptop, and a bunch of scary movies on TV that I don't want to watch.   This is after I sat alone in the living room and cried for a half hour.  My marriage is over!

Tuesday, October 27, 2015


I bought out the grocery store today.  Lots of food on sale--pasta, soup, etc.  I like to make my own recipes, but also wanted to stock up on canned items, with lousy weather ahead.   The van was packed.  I don't know why I bought so much stuff because I originally went in there for just a few items.  By the time I left, the shelves were empty.  Well not really, but you get the point.

Why did I buy so much?  I can only guess, but it could have something to do with the fact that I visited the Old Age home to visit with my senior friends, including Frank.  I had not seen him in about a month, or maybe more...since the affair with T started.  I had not seen him since then.  When I was leaving, Frank told me to tell  my husband that his grandfather was looking for him.  Still a bit confused, I guess.  He still thinks that I'm T's wife.  After that, I could not stop thinking about T.

Fast forward to when I pulled into the driveway.  Regretfully,  I realized that I would have to lug all those bags into the house by myself.  Suddenly, I was kicking myself for buying out the store.  I took a deep breath and started to unload the van, taking a couple of bags for one of what could have been thousands of trips back and forth from the driveway to the house.  I wasn't looking forward the task, I'll tell you that much.

After the first trip, I came outside and saw T standing there with bags in hand to help me.  I don't know where he came from, as I didn't remember seeing his truck in the driveway, but there he was in the flesh.   He looked incredible.  I pitifully tried to tell him that I didn't need any help, but he knew, as well as I did, that I was lying.  Besides that,  stubborn man that he is, he would not take no for an answer.  I was so starved to be close to him that I easily gave in.

I had not seen him since Philip's Sunday's morning call.  I had texted him a few times to let him know what was going on, but that was it.  I didn't hear his voice, and didn't see his gorgeous face until today.  I found myself staring at him while he was there, and vice-versa.  He looked right through me.  It was so uncomfortable that he had to leave before any real conversation had begun.  We were better off.

Now, I'm back to square one.  The desire is back (as if it had ever left).  Now, I can't stop thinking about him.  I want him,  but I want my family together.  I want everything--all of it.  In a perfect world, I could have it all, but I can't have everything, because it's not a perfect world--not for me, anyway.  I now know that if I want my marriage with Philip to be repaired, there is no way that I can live next door to T .  He was right.  It would be too difficult.  I could not see him every day, or even once in a while.  The temptation would be far too great.

So, it's once again time to dive into a box of cookies, and cry my eyes out.  Lord knows, I haven't cried enough.  I really am pathetic.

Sunday, October 25, 2015


Derek is well enough to go back to school tomorrow, and that is certainly good news for my little guy.  The past three days have been horrible for him, but today, even though he was home from school, I can see the light in his eyes, and a spring in his step.  He's ready.

The bad news is that I will no longer have my safely net.  With Derek on the mend and back to normal, I will have no excuse to give to P when he asks me to leave.  Given what he said to T on Saturday, I would not be surprised if I got the hook tonight.

So today, I plan on putting on the full Perfect Wife routine.  Cooking, cleaning, and then working on Derek's Halloween costume after dinner.  It's a strategic maneuver.  If I am knee deep in fabric, P can't kick me out, can he?  Or maybe I should nail myself to the floor or hide in the closet.

Actually, this wouldn't be a bad closet to hide out in

All joking aside, I've done everything I can to take advantage of this time that I've been given, and I'm going to attempt to stretch this time out as long as possible.  I want him to see how much he needs me around--for Derek's sake, at least, if not for his own.  Derek needs a stable environment with two parents who will anything to keep him the happy boy that he's always been.  I will make P see that, and maybe we can go from there.  

Friday, October 23, 2015


T offered to give me a massage last night.  Well, first he grabbed my hand to physically stop me from dusting the living room.  Then when I told him that I clean to relieve stress, he said that he didn't want me cleaning or cooking for him.  He suggested that I should first take a hot bath, and then he'd give me a massage.  I said thanks, but decided that having his magic hands on me would not be a good idea, so I said no.

After a few hours of laying in bed with my eyes wide open staring at the ceiling (thinking about the incredible massage that I could have had), I wandered out into the hallway--probably looking for something to clean (trust me, in that house I can find something).  I noticed that the light was still on in his bedroom, and I knocked on the door.  After a short conversation, I took him up on his offer.

I think that as soon as he touched my back, or soon after, I fell into a deep sleep.  It was the best night's sleep that I've had in two weeks--a full eight hours!  Maybe it was the air mattress bed, or the comfort of being close to T again, but I slept straight through--until the phone rang at seven in the morning.  It was my husband.  Of course.

T handed me the phone, and I was still groggy, not realizing how quickly he had given me the phone.  The first thing that P said was "Well, that was fast!"  Then I realized that it was obvious to him that T and I had been in the same room, and he didn't believe me when I said that it was completely innocent.  Then again, why would he?  I wouldn't have believed me either.  Finally, he told me the reason for the call.  Derek was sick, and he needed me.  I threw on a robe and was there in five minutes.

Derek has the flu.  Fever, shakes, throwing up--the works.  For most of the day, it has been just him and me, since P does not want to get sick as well.  P just checked his head in from time to time to see how Derek was doing.  That's fine with me.  Derek's sickness has given me the ability to dig in my heels a bit over here.  I am staying the night in the master bedroom so that I can be at Derek's beck and call.  P will stay in the office/guest room while I am here (well, there is no change there).   While I am not happy that Derek is sick, while here I will try to show P how valuable I am, and how this family needs to stay together.

Thursday, October 22, 2015


Derek and I spent the day together.  Just the two of us, after his soccer game this morning.  We went to a Halloween event at the mall, and then Sprinkle City.  We had a great time, although he did have a little stomach ache afterwards, probably from all the candy, popcorn, and ice cream.  I think that I went a little overboard trying to be the fun Mom.

When I returned home with Derek, I felt a definite chill in the air coming from the direction of my husband.  He was more distant than usual (and I thought that was impossible).  Once Derek was in bed, I mentioned the fact that Derek was not feeling well and looked a little pale.  I wondered out loud if I should stay the night, since I would be there all day tomorrow, anyway.  Besides, I wanted to keep an eye on Derek.  That did not go over well.

"I can handle it," he said, defiantly.  Then he snidely told me to go home to my lover.

I froze for a second, wondering where that came from, or what I did to cause it.  I  decided that it would not be a good time to discuss our issues, because obviously, he was in an extremely foul mood.  I just left.

I found T in the kitchen with a distant look on his face.  When he saw me, he forced a cheerful smile on his face, but I could tell that something was on his mind.  He is easier to read than P--wears his feelings, where P would hide them.  But didn't want to pry, and wanted to vent about how P acted.  Then he said that it was probably his fault.  It was also then that I noticed a bruise on the left side of his face.

I asked him what he meant, and then he sighed as if he were about to tell me something that I didn't want to hear.  He was right.  While I was out with Derek,  T had gone next door to talk to my husband, man to man.  The discussion was about me, of course.  T offered to sell his house and move away if that was what it took for P to take me back.

I wanted to yell at him.  Why did he offer that?  What made him think that I wanted him to offer to move away?  I felt like a pawn in a negotiation.  I'm sick of people deciding, behind my back, what is best for me.  It's my life!  Don't I get a say in this?  

But, of course, T is right.  P would never take me back if he was still here, living right next door with available arms for me to run to.  Problem is, I don't want him to go.  I guess that you can say that it is a problem that I have to deal with.

Curiously, I asked T what P said about the offer.  After pausing, he told me that P said that he would never take me back after what I have done.  I was surprised.  Surely, P would fight to keep Derek's family together, or that T would not win out...but no.   Then, the realization sunk in.  There is a real possibility that I will not be able to keep this marriage together no matter how many hoops I try to jump through--Derek or no Derek.  P has washed his hands of me.  After only two weeks, he is already ready to move on.  Maybe he has wanted to dump me for the longest time, but never had an excuse.  Now, he does.

I always knew the rule.  We had always said it.  If one of us ever had an affair, the trust would be broken and the marriage would be over.  I agreed with the rule, believed in it (never thought I would be the one to break it), but deep down, I always thought that if one of us strayed, the other would forgive.  I think that I would have forgiven him...I guess...maybe not...I don't know.  How does one forgive betrayal on that scale?   

What happens now?  Sitting Derek down in the living room and telling him that the family is breaking up?  Calling the lawyers to file for divorce papers?  Figuring out custody decisions?  Will he file for full custody since I was the one who broke the vows, causing the end of the marriage?  All these questions are swirling through my head.  I don't know how I am going to handle all this.  I'm sure that I am in for another sleepless night.

Monday, October 19, 2015


I just realized today that I am cleaning two houses.  Living in two houses has doubled my workload. I clean the first one because that is my job, keeping a clean and tidy house for my son.  I clean the second house because I can't stand to look at it if I don't do something.  Mark is a slob, plain and simple--he has actually improved since I met him--not enough, if you ask me.  I guess that I have been in love with a slob--go figure.  At first, I did not clean up after him, but after a week of it, I couldn't stand it. He has never asked me to do anything, but if I don't do it, I assume that no one will, except for the maid who comes once a week.  But the rest of the week,  I can't help myself.  I cannot live in a mess.  I am used to an orderly life, everything in its place.  

I guess I've been spoiled by P for the last ten years.  P actually cleans something immediately after he uses it--never leaves items laying around.  He would actually finish drinking a can of soda while standing over the recycling bin.  Perfectly groomed, showers daily, never has a hair out of place.   I've never really had to clean up after him.  Even now, when I walk into the bathroom after he has left for work, there is no mess left behind for his wayward wife.  He is a perfectionist, and probably always will be.  At times, it was a rather daunting task keeping him happy, but at least everything was in order.

T on the other hand, is a work in progress--a virtual forty-year-old frat boy, who leaves clothes, pizza boxes and beer bottles laying around. His clothes stay where they've been dropped, and probably would stay there forever if no-one picked them up.  On days off from work, he does not shave--maybe doesn't even shower either--I'm afraid to ask.  Funny, he always seemed to shave on Wednesdays before.  But now that I am in the same house as him, I see that he is a total bachelor in every glorified sense of the word.  You can tell that he has not lived with a woman for years. What sane woman (I never said that I was sane) would live here?  

Such is my life, lately.  Between two worlds, and two vastly different men--stuck in the middle.   

You would think that I was more compatible with Philip.  In a way, he is more like I used to be--straight and narrow,  conservative and controlled, quiet and reserved.  P is extremely intelligent and disciplined, although the fact that he cannot quit smoking is quite perplexing.  Nevertheless, it is his only vice.  He drinks only on occasion, and doesn't gamble, etc.  He does not have many close friends, although he is always involved in the community.  He is a total family man--a devoted father.  His life revolves entirely around Derek.  In fact, once Derek was born, I ceased to exist in his eyes, other than a way to have more children.  But it was the same for me.  Derek is our greatest achievement, and is most important in our lives.  Derek loves him to death.   I knew that P would be a good father by the way he used to rave about it.   He always talked about the importance of family, wanted three or four children, and I overlooked many of his other traits, because I wanted the same thing. It is probably the reason that I married him.  I was twenty-five and wanted a home and family of my own.  He was my ticket to that life.

Mark is completely different from Philip and me, and surprisingly, I connect better with him.  He is outgoing, dynamic and reckless.  He is a responsible man, but you would never guess it by the way that he acts. He drinks, but I've never seen him drunk.  He does not smoke, but will have a cigar with his buddies at a party.  He is popular, fit and has a magnetic personality--easy with conversation, and an available ear when needed.   Everybody seems to like him, and he has many close friends--men and women.   He has a tough exterior, but inside is a loving, reassuring and supportive man who is irresistible.  Because of that fact,  I believe that he could be a good father if given a chance. He deserves a second chance.   Maybe it will happen for him, and I wish that I could be a part of that, but obviously I can't do it for so many reasons. Family reasons aside, I have proven that I just can't deliver the goods.  Maybe he will find someone who will.

Ugh!  I've got to stop thinking about what could have been, and focus on what I need to do to get my life back to normal.  My current living arrangement is not the best (or smartest), since I am still in love with T.  But, there is nowhere else to go.  I don't want anyone else to know what is going on with my marriage--don't want to get the rumor mills going.  Living here is convenient, and necessary, --for now.  

Sunday, October 18, 2015



Oh, it could have been.  A couple of weeks ago, it would have been a dream getaway (although it would have been impossible to do it).  But, we are not lovers anymore--unfortunately.

T somehow talked me into getting on a plane.  You know, the same one that he took Derek up in, where he is the pilot.   I froze when I saw it, and practically laughed in his face. But, I went.  He could talk me into anything--unfortunately.

We flew about thirty minutes, landed, and from there took a shuttle to our destination--a spa for rest and relaxation.  If ever there was a time for spa treatment, this was the time, even if it was only for an overnight stay.  He knew exactly what I needed.  He has a knack for that.

We checked into a room with two double beds, and then immediately started to make appointments to get out of the room.  I called to make a reservation for a massage, manicure, pedicure...the works.  Then I talked him into joining me.  Seeing him with green gook on his face made me laugh.  I needed to laugh so badly after the week that I have had.

Afterwards, we dressed for dinner, and while in the elevator, a woman came in  holding a fussing baby.  Everything had gone so well up until that point.  Suddenly the smile on my face went away, as I thought about my lost child, and the child that I was afraid to lose.  I became quiet, melancholic and wanted to drown my sorrows.

I ordered a bottle of red wine, which is usually a red flag for me.  Knowing that the night would probably take a treacherous turn, T changed his beer order and asked for a glass to  join me.  I guess that he didn't want me to chug the bottle by myself.  After a few drinks, I was starting to feel no pain.  I looked across the table at the man that I love.  I wanted what I had a week ago--a lover, and a family intact...the double life.  I started to flirt, he became uncomfortable, but I didn't care.  I no longer wanted to choose.  I wanted everything.

I finally stopped teasing him, probably because he kept begging me to stop.  Eventually, dinner was over, but in my mind the night had just begun.  We walked into the room, and once we were inside, I kissed him.   He was overwhelmed, and did not know how to handle it in our new reality.  I had other ideas.  I confessed that I wanted to go away with him, and leave everything behind--start over somewhere else where I didn't have to worry about what people thought of me.  Think of myself for once.  

He backed away, telling me that I was not thinking straight.  He reminded me of what I would be leaving behind.  I was such in a dream state that I had forgotten about my son.  I snapped back to reality.  I had lost my mind for a second--thinking only of myself, and not the big picture.  This is why I cannot drink--my heart takes over when my head should lead the way.

Then, I noticed that he was leaving.  When I asked him where he was going, he apologized, but said that he found it too difficult to stay there with me.  He just  wanted to go to the casino down the road to get some space.  He said that he would return in a few hours, after I was asleep.  I understood his reasons.  He was doing us both a favor, and although I wanted him to stay, I knew that he had to go.   

This morning, I awoke to find him sleeping in a chair in the corner. His was still fully dressed, his neck was in a crooked position, and he looked extremely uncomfortable.  I wondered what time he came in, and walked over to wake him up, in an effort to talk him into crawling into the other bed--at least.  He woke up, looked at my slightly hungover and sleepy face with those eyes that I love, and told me that I looked adorable.  That's why I love him--probably always will.  But I still have to give him up, and the thought of that is torturous.

Now, I am home after a wonderful getaway.  I needed it so badly to store up my energy for the fight ahead of me.  I am keeping myself busy, cooking for the week and cleaning.  I'm trying to keep myself occupied so that I don't think about the fact that T is right next door, and I would rather be with him.

Friday, October 16, 2015


P is taking Derek away.  Well, not for good--not now, anyway.  

He came home and told me that he decided to take Derek camping because, in his words, he can't stomach spending the weekend with me--his wayward wife.  That's what it all boils down to.  Luckily, it is going to be a nice weekend, so that Derek doesn't have to freeze his ass off because of me.  They are going to be in a cabin, so if it rains, he's covered.

After being informed that my son would be gone from tomorrow morning until Sunday night, I was directed to help get the stuff together, pack food and clothing, etc.  We worked as a family unit for the first time since Tuesday.  However after Derek was in bed, I attempted to talk to P,  and I was pitched out of the house, as is the custom these days.  Before I left, I was informed that I should return at six, because they plan to leave at seven.  Someone has to make breakfast.  Got to keep the charade going, right?

When I walked through the back door of T's empty house (or so I thought, since I knew that he was working late), I was extremely melancholy, and wanted to curl up into a ball on the couch, only lifting my head long enough to stick it into a gallon of chocolate ice cream.  No such luck, because first of all--T doesn't have a stash of ice cream--stupid man, and second--the couch was already taken.  T's mother, Anita, was there waiting for me.  

I didn't know how to react. She saw that I was apprehensive (to say the least--I wanted to run out of there), so she patted her hand on the couch and asked me to sit down.  She knew everything.  I was relieved, because  I didn't know how was I going to explain that I just waltzed in his house unannounced.  Once she told me that she knew about the lost baby, I fell apart completely, and she comforted me.  I needed that so much.  Up to that point, the secret was locked inside me. There had been no one to tell about my latest tragedy--not my friends, or my family.   It needed to come out.  

Of course, as I was crying in the couch with his mother, T walked in, wondering what she had done to me.  Oh, by the way, he did return last night.  He found me, and I was able to apologize for being such an unreasonable bitch  (my words--not his).

As always, after I retired to the guest room, I couldn't sleep.  I smelled smoke in the air, and got out of bed to investigate.  T was in the living room, lying on the couch since his mother was sleeping in his room for the night.  He had been having a hard time sleeping as well, and started a fire in the fireplace. When he saw me, he immediately sat up, looking a bit uncomfortable because I was standing there in my robe.  He joked that I was trying to torture him walking in looking that way.  I actually smiled.

He told me that he's been thinking about what he had done to my life, and was truly sorry.  I told him that he was not the only one to blame for the mess that I am in, and that we were drawn to each other because of mutual affection.  I apologized again for ripping his head off yesterday.  He said that I needed to vent, and deserved it.  Well, I don't think that's true.

T said that he hated to see me like this, and wanted to do something to cheer me up--take me away from everything.  Since Derek would not be home all weekend, he offered to take me somewhere overnight (just as friends...I laughed too).   At first, I dismissed the idea as crazy, because I thought it impossible for us to go away together without temptation.  But, he insisted, swearing that it could work.  I was not looking forward to being in an empty home, so I have changed my mind.  We'll see if this works.

So tomorrow morning, I will be there to wake Derek up, make him breakfast and get him ready to leave me (have to be there at 6 am tomorrow, so what am still I still doing up tapping away on my laptop?).  Once they have left, T will take me somewhere.  I don't know where he is taking me, because it is a secret, but I'll be back on Sunday.  Hopefully, my head will be clear, and I will be rested and ready for the fight ahead.

Thursday, October 15, 2015


I cried an ocean last night, and it is just the beginning.

I found out what was wrong with me.  I saw the signs, but ignored them.  I should have paid attention, but maybe something was wrong from the beginning.  I was pregnant, and now I'm not.  The defective womb has struck again, and as always, it was devastating.

It happened yesterday.  I spent the day hard at work--cleaning, and doing as much penance as I could.  I didn't feel right, had progressive abdominal pain.  I had been late--very late, and thought that this was the long overdue monthly visit that I have been waiting for.  I have always been late, ever since I was a teenager, but this time was different.  But, I took a test, right?  Well, the test was wrong.  By the time I reached T's house after grinning and bearing the pain the entire time I was with Derek, I collapsed.  T picked me up and brought me to the hospital.

Seven weeks along.  Yeah, that was a week before Labor Day--that first thrilling, unplanned moment with T.  The child from that unbridled moment of passion is gone.  Perhaps stress was the cause, but more likely it is what it always was--my inadequacy as a woman.  I can't even blame it on P this time.  The fault is all mine.

Some might say that this was a blessing in disguise, but I do not see it that way.  I would have endured all the ridicule and exposure from the affair to everyone in the world, if I could just have our baby back.  I would have wanted this precious child, no matter what.  I am truly heartbroken.

I didn't tell P about it--just crawled over there with a forced smile on my face as P was walking out for work at six this morning.  Once I took care of Derek, and he left for school, the house was empty.  I had no energy from a terrible night's sleep.  I felt like I was about to collapse, until I fell into the master bed and rested in order to store up strength for the rest of the day.  Once Derek walked in the door from an exciting day of school, I was the Mommy that he expected.  I played the perfect part.

When P came home, I made an attempt to address our situation, but he cut me off immediately. He ate dinner in the guestroom/office, after telling Derek that he had a lot of "homework" to do.  Once Derek was in bed, I tried again, but he told me to get lost.  But, I will not give up.  I will attempt this over and aver again. If I have to grovel, I will. I will do marriage counseling...anything.

Unfortunately, when I returned to T's house I took my frustration out on him.  As he sat there trying to eat a late dinner, I blamed him for everything under the sun--the affair, the crumbling of my marriage, and most of all, the miscarriage.  I said that he must have been relieved that this happened because it got him off the hook.  It wasn't true, and I knew it, but it didn't stop me from saying it.  I insulted him in so many hurtful ways--can't believe the words that came out of my mouth.  He sat there and took it, and when I was done, instead of defending himself or fighting back, he walked out.

Instantly, I regretted my cancerous words, but he was already gone.  He did not answer his cell phone when I called.  I left him message after message, and I am distraught and worried about him.  What have I done?  I chased away my best friend, and there is no shoulder left to cry on.  I am alone with my thoughts of despair.

So, here I sit, waiting for T to return from wherever he went.  He can't stay out forever--I hope. Maybe he'll just return tomorrow while I am gone--I don't know.  Or maybe he will hear my messages asking for forgiveness and come home.  Nevertheless, I plan on waiting in a place where he cannot avoid me.  

Wednesday, October 14, 2015


I guess that the title tells you what happened.  My life has been turned upside down.  

As planned,  I spent the day with T yesterday.  We were in the kitchen after eating lunch, and I was still dressed in the red nightgown that he bought for me.  I was a little behind in my schedule, lazy and content.  We were laughing about something.  T had just finished telling me to get moving, because it was around two o'clock, and Derek usually comes home around three.  I smiled, flirted and kissed him instead.  I did not want to go.

Suddenly there was a knock on the sliding glass door.  When I turned, I saw P's shocked face staring back at me.  Apparently, he came home early from work.  I don't know how he ended up finding me there, maybe he suspected something--I don't know.  He did not charge in the door, or yell.  He just turned and left.  I think that the former would have been better.

I scrambled into the bedroom to find my clothing.  As I fumbled around to get dressed, T offered to go with me.  I said no.  I had to face the music alone.  I didn't even think about what was happening.  I just wanted to talk to P to stop him from doing anything.  I don't know what I thought I was going to do.  By the time I walked into my house, I could not find P right away, and was shaking.  I called out his name, but there was no reply.  Finally, I found him head in hands sitting on the master bed.

P asked me how long it was going on, and I told him.  He asked me why I did it, and I couldn't answer.  There were plenty of reasons why I turned to T, but at the time I could not think of one of them.  I didn't defend myself while P called me every name in the book--feeling too guilty and worthless to put up a good fight.

Then he told me to pack up and leave.  I was speechless.  Suddenly, I was begging to stay.  All I could think about was Derek.  What would happened when he got off the bus at three?  Who was going to feed him, help him with his homework and put him to bed?  Who was going to wake him and the morning, feed him breakfast, give him a hug and send him to school?  Who was going to take care the house?  I reasoned with P, and pointed out these facts, knowing that he left early in the morning for work, and could not do it himself.  Time was running out, because Derek was coming home soon.

P walked out of the room, leaving me there in a praying position in the kitchen.  I sat there and lingered, waiting for his decision.  Then, as Derek's bus pulled in front of the house, P calmly said that I could stay, but once Derek was in bed for the night, he wanted me to leave.  He did not care where I went--he just didn't want to see my face.  In the morning, I was to return to wake Derek and take care of him.  P planned to leave once I arrived.  I was not able to argue it, because Derek was walking in the door at that point, and happy that his father was home early from work.  P told Derek that he came home from work early to take him to a special event, just the two of them.  Once they left the house, I was not sure if they would be back.

Thankfully, they did come back, after I cried and prayed a few hours that they would.  Derek was wide-eyed and ecstatic about his day with Dad, and voluntarily did his homework with no trouble.  I had dinner ready, but P told me that they had eaten out.  I watched my happy son, sitting there with not a care in the world, I felt like a complete monster.  How could I do this to him?

After homework was done, and Derek was washed and ready for bed, I sat with him in his room, and read him a book.  I can't remember the last time that I did that.  I was probably trying to stretch out the time, I guess.  I knew that P would not change his mind, and that I would have to leave, and I was right.  At that point, there was really only one place I could go.  I turned to T.

T reached out to console me when I walked in the door, but I turned away from him.   I couldn't do it.  He did not know what to do.  This was new ground.  I really didn't tell him much of anything last night, except for the fact that I needed a place to stay, and why.  I didn't tell him all the vitriolic things that P said, because he would have said that P was wrong to treat me that way.  I did not want him to defend me.

Although I slept at T's house last night, the affair is over.  I'm staying in the guest room.  We both know what would happen if we were caught.  I have told him from the beginning that if it came down to a choice between him and Derek, I would pick Derek.  I will pick Derek's happiness over my own--even if it means leaving behind someone I truly love to try to fix a marriage that no longer makes me happy.   As far as I am concerned, it's a fair trade. 

The living arrangement with T will be awkward, since yesterday morning he was my lover and now he is not.  It's weird for both of us, but I have nowhere else to go, and have another choice.  Besides, while I am next door, I can be there for Derek at a moment's notice,  pretending that I never left.  T told me that I could stay as long as I wanted, or forever.  But that's just a dream, isn't it? It's a dream that I must forget.

So, here I am, in the house where we raised Derek, trying to keep it together. I'm cleaning the house, cooking like crazy, and trying to ignore any distractions.  I've been feeling very ill lately, and I don't know what the problem is, but I have to keep going.  I have to fix Derek's family before he finds out that it's broken.

Sunday, October 11, 2015


I had a migraine this morning, and I missed Mass.  I usually do not do that.  I also missed T's neighborhood football party.  That, I was not looking forward to.  I was feeling better in the afternoon,  but stayed at home because I didn't know how I was going to be able to be in the same house with him, Philip, and all the other neighbors without feeling uncomfortable.  Not to mention that Roberta usually looks at T as if he were the main dish on her menu.  I didn't need to see that.

T called me during the day while guests were in his home.  He said that he sneaked in his bedroom to do so.  He teased that he wanted to come over and nurse me back to health.  I told him that he was nuts.  It was a nice idea, but I threatened his life--called him "Markus", which is his given name and his mother only calls him that when he's in trouble.  I warned that he would be in deep trouble if he tried to come over.  But, then again, he's never been afraid of my wrath. 

When the doorbell rang, I knew who it was.  I opened the front door, and saw his face.  In shock, I pulled him inside as quickly as possible.  After a quick smile and kiss, he told me that he would not stay long, and would leave immediately, because he knew that I was freaking out.  He just wanted to give me something that was in a small white bag that he held in his hand.  I looked inside, and found that he had bought me a Lindt chocolate bar with raspberry filling.  It is my absolute favorite.  I decided not to kill him after all.

But, I had to get him out.  I pushed him out the front door, after checking first.  He made sure to remind me that his day off was Tuesday, and not Wednesday.  I will rest all day tomorrow  to be ready for our day.

Saturday, October 10, 2015


There was a horrible accident last night--Terrible!  A family of five was in their van on the highway, and collided with another larger vehicle, head on.  Everyone in the vehicle died,  except for the youngest daughter who was in critical condition.  When I saw the report on the news, I thought it unbelievably tragic, but didn't think that I would be touched by it at all, since I did not know these people.  I just turned off the television, because I could no longer watch it.  It was depressing.  I prayed for the little girl left behind.

At twelve o'clock, the house was so peaceful.  Derek and Philip were in bed, the television was off, the lights were out, and you could hear a pin drop.  I was in the tub taking a long, hot bath--just relaxing and enjoying the quiet.  Then my cell phone rang.

I saw that it was T's number.  The first thing that he said was "They're all dead."

It was at that moment that I realized that he was working last night.  He had been at the scene of the accident, and I could tell by his voice that he had been traumatized.  He only wanted to talk, but I knew that he needed comfort.  I immediately dressed, sneaked out the back door, and walked right over there to do just that.

He told me about the scene at the accident, the carnage of it all, and about the badly burned little girl who mercifully died at the hospital.  He confessed that he was sick of seeing scenes like that.    It seemed to open the floodgates of his soul.  He opened up completely, telling me some secrets about himself.  I finally found out why he left the Navy, which was something I thought that he would never tell, and what happened after that, until the day that I met him.  

Afterwards, I must have fallen asleep, which was a stupid mistake.  Unfortunately,  I did not awaken until six in the morning, and obviously,  I was not where I was supposed to be.  I instantly started to shake, but thanked God it was Saturday morning.  Any morning during the week would have be nightmarish, because Philip usually rises at six each weekday.  Saturdays, he sleeps later--sometimes seven or eight or nine.  It all depends on the time of Derek's soccer game.  Today's game was at 11 am, so I really didn't know what time Philip planned to get up.  

Suddenly, I felt like I was a teenager out past curfew, but with much more serious consequences.  My mind was spinning as I dressed, and I wished that I could blink myself into the house like "Jeannie".  I was nearly frozen with fear, trying to think of believable excuses.  Did I go for an early walk?  Was I sitting in the backyard reading a book?  Either excuse was worthless, because at six o' clock this morning, it was 40 degrees and dark.
Finally, I had the courage to try.  I sneaked outside into T's backyard, through the fence separating our yards, and into my backyard.   The lights were still out, and that was a good sign.  I slowly opened the sliding glass door, and slid inside the house.  I made it.  Thank God!

After all that worry, I found that Derek and Philip were still asleep in their beds.  I planned on pretending that I fell asleep on the couch to explain why I never made it into the bedroom last night, but nobody asked.  Philip didn't know that I had been missing, and basically could not care less.

Now that Philip and Derek have left for the soccer game, and I am writing about last night's events, I realize that I could have been caught so easily.  Today might have been the day when everything came out--luckily it was not.  Obviously, I have to be more careful, and I can't ever do this again.

Wednesday, October 7, 2015


When I posted this blog's introduction, I explained why I needed a new blog.  I was afraid.   But truthfully, after about a year with the other blog, I have realized that no one from my inner circle actually reads it.  It was a hard pill to swallow, because I did put some time and effort into it, but since it was just about my day to day life (which was pretty boring at the time), I guess that they did not find it interesting.   I don't even have any followers.  I'm sure that P never read one word from it, because he is not even aware that I write one blog (never mind two).  

However, I cautiously started this Peach blog just to be safe side.  There were no links to this blog from that blog.  I know that I've been posting links on Twitter to the original blog, but I'm not going to do that anymore.  I've stopped posting there altogether, and I deleted the blog entirely, but I saved all my posts, and transferred them to a new address. I will fix the broken links when I can.

Why do I have the Peach blog at all?  I needed to have this blog because I do not have anyone to tell all my secrets.  I can't tell family or friends about what is going on.  Could you imagine if I did?  After spending all this time trying to be the "perfect wife"?  Even in the beginning, when I started to feel something for T, who was I going to tell?  Who would have understood?  I had to vent all my doubts, fears, and desires somewhere else, because I was going crazy keeping everything to myself!  So I started this blog.  I didn't care if one person or one hundred read my blog.  I just wanted to send my feelings out into air to people that I did not know.  

I realize that there is a certain amount of risk having a blog like this, but if I am caught, it will be in the real world.  It will be from my own stupidity, or maybe I will just break down and confess everything--let the chips fall.  Who knows?  But, it will have nothing to do with this blog.

Thursday, October 1, 2015


Call me self-conscious.  Go ahead, I deserve it.  Tell me that I'm losing my mind.  You might be right.  I used to be a perfectly sane woman.  However, I am losing control of myself more and more each day.  What is wrong with me?

This is the inside of my brain

I haven't been posting about the doubts that I have about my relationship with T.  I trust him--I do, but there's this devil on my shoulder telling me that I will never be enough for him--how could I?  How could a boring 36 year old mom who dyes her hair and has cellulite be enough for a man like T?  No matter how many times that he's told me that he loves me, I still have doubts about him because of his past with other women.  Does he see someone on the side?  Is it unfair of me to think that he might?

This morning, I was walking in the house after Derek's soccer game, since Philip had to work today.  I turned towards T's house, and saw something that I have been dreading since this whole affair with T started.  I saw another woman there.  They were right outside, for everyone to see, including me.  The suspicion rolled in.  I knew that I wasn't enough.  I knew it!

I caught his eye, gave him a look of distress, turned, then quickly walked inside before he could say anything.  I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break down.  Once I was inside, I excused myself and ran into the bathroom.  Let out the tears that seemed to flow uncontrollably.  I never expected him to be a one woman man, even though he told me that he was not seeing anyone else.  This was obvious proof that he had lied to me, and I questioned everything that he had said.  How could he do this to me after all that I have risked?

I heard the doorbell ring, tried to dry my eyes as best as I could.  Tried to paste on a smile for whoever it was at the door.  When I opened the door, I saw T's face right in front of me.  He had the woman with him, and wanted to introduce her.  I thought that he had some frigging nerve, gave him a dirty look and wanted to close the door in his stupid face.

The woman was his sister, Diana.  Oops!  He knew what I was thinking, and practically dragged her over to my house to let me know who she was.  The two of them visited Frank together today--something that I suggested that he do.  You should have seen the hurt look on his face.  Now he knows that I don't trust him, even thought he has given me no reason to doubt him.  How do you apologize with your eyes?  I tried.

Maybe I should have known better.  Two weeks ago, he stood me in front of a mirror when I was questioning why he was with me (I've done this before--it has become a habit).  I was comparing myself to the women in his past (including the nearly flawless Trudi).  He said to look at the reflection and see the only woman that he has ever loved.  That was the day that I confessed that I loved him too.  

Why can't I believe that I am enough?  Why do these doubts keep creeping in like an infestation?  Why can't I be happy with the way things are when we are together?  I guess that it is because when I'm with him, I feel that it is like a wonderful dream that I will eventually wake up from, returning to my former life--neglected, unhappy, and bored.

Then there's also the nightmare that we will be exposed, and then the dream will end for good.  It is inevitable.  This affair cannot go on forever without some kind of exposure, and the thought of that is torturous.  My head tells me to cut my losses before we are found out, and end it on my terms--with no one hurt except for me and T.  But I selfishly don't want to end it.  My heart wants to hang on as long as possible, because I am in love.