It was easy to become friends with him. We connected and began an innocent friendship filled with laughing and talking.
He instantly became someone I knew I wanted to surround myself with, but I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
He was charming, funny, handsome…and engaged.
One evening an innocent talk turned into something more. He was good with words. He told me how he was always attracted to me and how easy it was to talk with me…how innocent just spending one night together would be. I was swayed by his words, and here began our downward spiral of night after night spent with each other.
I felt a bond with this man unlike any I’ve felt before, every day convincing myself that I was innocent or at least driven by a passionate love for him.
I met his bride-to-be. She was everything I knew she would be: Beautiful, successful, and exactly like me. I suddenly realized I was simply a mirror of her. We quickly became friends. Fueled by my guilt, I felt I had to become close to her. As our friendship grew I began to push aside the past and focused on growing, moving on, and going back to the way I was before I met him—loyal.
He never seemed frightened or threatened by my friendship with his fiancée. This twisted friendship was security for him. He knew that the closer I became with her, the safer he was. He knew I couldn’t hurt her. I felt as through I was redeeming myself. And as selfish as it was, it made me feel better. I was glad to be close to her.
He and I spoke of our true feelings only once after I met his fiancée. We both still felt guilty, yet we both still knew we needed each other.
We confessed imagining a different world where we could be together. But neither of us was willing to pull apart a love that already existed, his love for the other woman, his bride.
The wedding day came and went. I didn’t cry when he said, “I do.”
Another night alone again—we couldn’t be trusted. I slept with a man who had vowed to another. This time the guilt came quickly. I couldn’t imagine a world in which we lived a separate life, but this time I refused to left myself hide from my guilt. I took it head-on and it felt like hitting a brick wall.
I hated who I had become. Selfish. I realized that he was no better. I could never love a man who could only bring out the worst in me and who would do these things to the one he loved and with whom he vowed to spend his life.
He didn’t love me. He never did. I longed for his touch so much that I let a married man into my head, my heart, and my bed. I’d never let that happen again.
They have two children now and I am still a big part of their lives. I still don’t trust myself alone with him.