Deposition To My Husband

I never imagined having these feelings. Never. Not with you. The one thing I was always sure of was your love for me. And it’s not that I don’t think you love me. I know you do, but now your love for me seems tainted somehow. With every new thing I learn, I become more convinced that there was something going on between the two of you. Do you not realize that sometimes you tell me the most mundane shit? Of trips for work? Of conversations you have with people I will never meet? I know you tell me things because we are sharing our lives. My point is, sometimes you will tell me in detail, line for line, things that happen during your day. That’s why I find it so hard to believe that never, not once, would you not tell me about going to her house and giving her money or running errands for her. Also, you say you went to her house three or four times to loan her money and twice to run an errand. You also said she paid you most of the money back, which would lead me to believe that you had seen her more often than the times you said. Because, when did she pay you back? And, what the fuck do you mean that you like talking to her because you felt needed? This whole time I have been asking you if there was any kind of attraction or attachment and you said no, absolutely not. In my opinion, you received emotional satisfaction by talking to another woman behind my back. I have to question everything now. I must. You have hurt and betrayed me. I told you that cheating was the worse thing you could do in a marriage. I have been here for six long, emotional years, staying with you despite reasons others might have left. I have loved you from a place inside myself that I never knew existed. My meeting you changed me forever. And now, this. What to do? I doubt anything physical happened between the two of you. But your calling her so much is what tears me apart. You called her numerous times a day until you finally got a hold of her. You called her when you were out of town on business. You called her when we were visiting my fucking family. You called her at seven in the morning. You called her on your way home from work. You called her every day for a week, several times throughout the last three months. You called her as soon as I walked out the door. You called her from work. You sent her text messages that said things like, just let me know babe or baby. You asked her, “r u mad at me”. How cute. I am so angry right now that I am blaming even this zit on my forehead on you. How dare you? To me? Remember how you told me that the one thing you were supposed to do in life was protect me and take of me? Yeah, neither do I.