The phone call ended, and a silence descended upon my small study, heavier than any argument I’d ever had. I had done it. I had finally broken it off with *her*. The relief was a fleeting ghost, quickly swallowed by a tidal wave of guilt and self-loathing. Yes, I know I’m a shit human being. I know I deserve every ounce of this suffocating despair, and more. My wife, the woman I married, the mother of my children, deserves so much better than me. The question often echoes on forums like this: why do cheaters do it? I wish I had a simple answer, a clear-cut villain or victim.
I Broke Her Heart, Then My Own: The Crushing Weight of My Secret Affair
Published Anonymously
Submitted by a real person and published with their consent. Identity is never revealed.