I Discovered a Romantic Note from My Husband That Led to the Dissolution of Our Marriage

“David, you always know how to make a girl feel special. Seven years already? Can you believe it?”

In that moment, his eyes met mine, the warmth in his smile froze, replaced by a dawning realization and fear.

Without a word, he rose from his seat, mumbling an excuse to use the restroom to Isabelle.

“Don’t you dare, David!” I exclaimed.

He stopped, a look of panic crossing his face. Isabelle, now a confused and flustered mess, watched the scene unfold.

David, caught between his wife and his secret lover, stood rooted to the spot. I could see the wheels turning in his head, calculating his next move.

Turning to Isabelle, I introduced myself with a calmness I didn’t quite feel.

“I’m Nancy,” I said. “David’s wife of almost eighteen years.”

“What?” Isabelle remarked, her face turning pale. “I had no idea! David told me that you were separated, but still on good terms because of your children.”

Isabelle’s fingers nervously twisted a lock of her hair. It was clear that she was as much a victim of David’s lies as I was.

My husband’s eyes begged for forgiveness — or for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The silence was deafening.

“Separated? How original, David.”

Looking directly at Isabelle, I saw the tears well in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I never wanted to be a part of something like this.”

“I never meant for it to go this far,” David said.

I couldn’t tell which one of us he was talking to.

Isabelle sniffed into her napkin. I could see that she was visibly shaken.

But seven years? They had been together for seven years, and not once did she ask to meet my daughters? Or even meet me?

Did she not think that they were getting serious? Or that there was more to their relationship than just dating?

It didn’t make sense to me. None of it did. David and I got married when we were very young — almost straight out of high school. Despite the usual bickering that married couples went through, we were good. We were strong.

Until I found that note.

I thought about all the times that we had argued — sure, it was uncomfortable at the time, but we went through everything together and always came out better. I thought about all of David’s late nights, and the business trips.

I remembered the one evening, as I sat in bed eating a bowl of ice cream, David packed his things into a suitcase.

“I’ll just be away for the weekend,” he said.

“Where are you staying?” I asked.

“At a hotel,” he answered immediately. “But I’m not going to be alone. One of the guys will be sharing a room with me.”

I nodded. I trusted him; he had never given me any reason not to.

Now, I sat back in my chair, and watched as David fought himself not to reach out and comfort Isabelle. He had a pained look on his face, with his fists clenched tightly.

That hurt me the most. The fact that my husband cared enough for this woman, wanting to reach out to her — in my presence.

I didn’t feel that our marriage was over. But that was the moment that my heart broke completely.

“I’ll begin the divorce process,” I told David, picking up my handbag.

“You need to explain this to the girls; I’m not going to.”

As I left, the restaurant faded into a blur. The night air felt colder as I walked to my car. I had faced my betrayal. But I knew that I had a lot to work through.

I just needed to be strong for my girls. I knew that the divorce would wreck them, and our family. But David had forced my hand.

What would you have done?