…like I did with someone else.
At first, I thought she was joking.
I even gave this awkward half-laugh and said,
“Come on… that’s not how this works.”
But she didn’t laugh.
She just looked at me.
Calm.
Serious.
“Why not?” she asked.
I didn’t have a good answer.
Because the truth was…
it was how it worked.
I had already broken the rules.
Now she was asking for the same freedom I took for myself.
“I don’t want to do it,” she added quietly.
“But I want you to understand what you did to me.”
That hit harder than anything.
Not anger.
Not yelling.
Just… honesty.
“I don’t want our marriage to become that,” I said.
“It already did,” she replied.
Silence.
“I stayed,” she continued,
“because of the kids. Because of everything we built. But I didn’t stay because I was okay.”
I felt sick.
“I need something to balance this,” she said.
“Something that makes it feel… less one-sided.”
I shook my head.
“This isn’t balance,” I said.
“This is just more damage.”
She nodded.
“I know,” she said.
Another long pause.
“Then why ask?” I whispered.
“Because I need you to feel it,” she said.
“Even if I never go through with it.”
That was the moment I finally understood.
This wasn’t about revenge.
It was about pain.
The kind you can’t just apologize away.
“I hate that I did this to us,” I said.
She looked at me.
“You didn’t do it to ‘us,’” she said.
“You did it to me.”
That landed.
Hard.
Over the next few weeks, things didn’t magically get better.
We talked more.
Argued sometimes.
Sat in silence a lot.
Trust wasn’t something I could ask for anymore.
It was something I had to earn.
And even then…
there were no guarantees.
One night, she said something I’ll never forget.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever love you the same way again,” she admitted.
I nodded.
“I know,” I said.
Because deep down…
I already felt it.
The distance.
The hesitation.
The way things had changed.
We started counseling.
Not because everything was okay.
But because we didn’t want to give up without trying.
Some days felt hopeful.
Others felt like we were just going through the motions.
And her request?
She never followed through.
But she never fully took it back either.
It stayed there.
Like a reminder.
Of what I broke.
And what might never be the same again.
Because the truth is…
You don’t just hurt someone when you cheat.
You change how they see you.
You change how they feel about themselves.
And sometimes…
no matter how much you regret it…
you don’t get to decide if it’s fixable.
You just have to live with what you’ve done…
and hope it’s not too late.
