What was she thinking about before?

It was five years ago when I married a young woman, despite the significant age gap between us. Our love was genuine, and a year into our marriage, we were blessed with a beautiful daughter. At that time, I was at the peak of my career, leading a prominent company, and dedicating countless hours to my work. Traveling for business became a regular occurrence, but I reveled in it, as I truly loved what I did, not to mention the handsome income it provided.

Let me clarify that even before our life together began, I had already amassed everything needed to support a prosperous family. Initially, my wife also worked in the same company, and I believed she found fulfillment in her role. She constantly sought to enhance her skills and was highly respected among her colleagues.

However, everything changed after the birth of our child. It seemed as though my wife had been replaced by a different person. At the slightest disagreement, she would pack her bags and flee to her mother's house. Initially, I tried to bring her back, taking the blame upon myself, but I soon realized that it had become a mere game of emotions.

In 2020, the pandemic struck, and fate had it that my wife and I were in different cities. She, once again, chose to live at her mother's place with our child. Our long-distance communication remained amicable, but I sensed something troubling in her behavior. I tried to pry, to understand what was happening, and after three months, she dropped the bombshell: she had no intention of returning and wanted a divorce. I had to maintain composure and persuade her to come back, to attempt to mend our relationship. Unfortunately, her mother strongly opposed the idea.

As soon as it became feasible to travel amidst the pandemic, I arranged for my wife and child to come back home. I welcomed them with open arms, but deep down, I knew that the woman who returned was not the same. Especially in the bedroom, she felt distant, disconnected. Subsequently, perplexing demands emerged—she no longer wished to work, expected a weekly allowance for personal expenses, just like her friend's husband did. She started indulging in wine, despite previously having no interest in it. Conversations became confrontational and disrespectful.

I never insisted on her working after we got married; it was her own initiative. As for money, well, take it from the bedside table, as they say, just let me know. In every other aspect—vacations, cars, clothing—she was better provided for than her friends. However, I couldn't help but notice her constant retreats to the bathroom or another room, accompanied by incessant calls or messages on her phone. She always had her phone in hand, set to silent mode. I am not a jealous husband by nature, and I allowed her considerable freedom and trust. But when there's a specific reason to be suspicious, specific questions arise. All of this led us to decide to live separately, and eventually, we divorced. She returned to her mother's place, and as is often the case, our daughter was caught in the crossfire, separated from me even for communication.

In due time, I learned that my suspicions of my wife's infidelity during the pandemic were justified. She had engaged in a romantic affair with a young, attractive man who happened to be married as well. She dreamt of divorcing him from his wife to be together. And who do you think revealed her secret? Of course, her closest friends, unable to bear witness to her happiness. They orchestrated everything so that I would find out. I must emphasize that these were not mere rumors, but concrete evidence, which I won't delve into here.

I loved her deeply, and the revelation of her betrayal hit me like a tidal wave. I spiraled into a deep depression, and the thought of facing each day became unbearable. It was as if my world had been shattered into a million pieces, and I struggled to find a way to put them back together.

But as time passed, I slowly began to rebuild myself. I distanced myself from toxic influences, surrounded myself with supportive friends and family, and sought professional help to navigate the emotional turmoil. I immersed myself in personal growth, introspection, and self-care, determined to emerge stronger from this heart-wrenching experience.

For the past two years, I have chosen to be alone, avoiding the complexities of new relationships. I needed time to heal, to rediscover my own worth, and to redefine what love meant to me. It was a period of self-discovery, where I delved into my passions, pursued new interests, and focused on personal development.

Now, after the passage of time, my ex-wife, having failed to find happiness in her personal life and with the man she so ardently desired (who ultimately played with her emotions and left her after an abortion), expresses a desire to come back to me. She claims to regret listening to her mother and friends, admitting her mistake. She emphasizes that our child deeply loves and longs for a relationship with me—a truth I cannot deny, as I have felt the void of her absence.

But how am I supposed to move forward with my ex-wife? How do I forget the pain of her betrayal and deceit? How does she envision a tomorrow where I can comfortably look into the eyes of those who harbored ill thoughts about me, or will I once again be seen as the deceived one, as her former lover? I know with certainty that I cannot bear such a burden.

All I can perceive as a positive aspect of her return is the reunion with my daughter. However, the thought of rekindling a romantic relationship with my ex-wife feels like an insurmountable obstacle. How can I trust her again? How can I forget the hurt and the words spoken against me? How can I appear in her city, where everyone knows me (as I am a public figure), and walk hand in hand with her, pretending to be blissfully happy while feeling the weight of judgment and the constant reminder of her past infidelity?

These questions torment my thoughts, and I find myself torn between the longing for a restored family and the fear of reliving the pain and betrayal of the past. I have come so far in my journey of healing, and the thought of undoing all the progress fills me with apprehension.