Third Party

'Why do you constantly challenge me!?' he demanded.

That seemed like a futile question, I thought in my mind. 'Because you are behaving strangely!' I protested again.

For the last few months, this conversation seemed to replay over and over: I was living it in my waking moments and in my sleep.

When I first questioned him months ago he looked puzzled; all the more reason I became suspicious.

It nagged me from that very day about his whereabouts. He was gone for extended hours every day, well beyond the usual. I can't remember if this change was sudden or gradual but his habits had definitely changed.

Steve threw his hands up in the air, once again, and left the room.

I was at a point I didn't know if I was creating a monster of this in my mind or if my gut was driving this to get to the truth.

We'd been married for coming up to 10 years and, for the most part, we had a relationship that most of our friends aspired to. For me, it was love at first sight - a knowing that we were meant to be - or was my gut off then? Was my gut off now!?

'I don't know!' I frustratingly thought.

I had already rummaged through his belongings, his clothes, the house - many times! I kept waiting to uncover a sign of his mysterious behaviour.

It was natural to fear his infidelity, right? In the early days, I tried to shake this thought.

'Don't be ridiculous!'.

'You seriously need to get a life!'.

'You know he loves you'.

But then the doubts would haunt me. 'Loving you is not enough', I had thought and this sent chills through my spine.

That was the catalyst for the constant searching - the raids of his personal possessions, to uncover the truth. I have even considered hiring a private investigator. I haven't quite taken that step.

Where to from here? He won't confess to anything despite my seeing the guilt in his eyes.

Fine! Today I follow him to work. Today I stalk him as a PI would. Today, I'm putting an end to this, and maybe, to our relationship. This thought sends pain through my heart but, I can't live like this.

As he leaves the house I grab my bag. I'm on a mission but, I need to remain inconspicuous. I need to be one step behind him but a mile away as well. This might be more challenging than I thought.

I peered through the front window until his car had started to move down the street. That was my queue. I made haste to the door and out to my car, which was already parked outside the garage. I dived into the driver's seat whilst throwing my bag to the opposite side and was surprised at my momentary feeling of exhilaration. Focus!

The moment I put the car into reverse, the phone pinged. It was a text. 'Do I look at it? No! I've got to go!' my mind raced. I glanced down at my phone just peering out from my bag's side pocket. I grabbed it and threw it on the passenger seat whilst putting my foot down on the accelerator.

'Good day to get a fine!' I thought frustratingly as I became more tempted to pick up the phone whilst driving.

The temptation got the better of me. The moment I saw the words, I slammed on the brakes. 'He doesn't love you'.

I was on the roadside, car engine running and I'd bumped the wipers that were now frantically swiping the dry windscreen. I couldn't move - not even my eyes from the message - and my breathing was panicked.

It seemed like an eternity before I looked away from the message and to the view ahead. I was in shock and still breathing heavily. Other cars and people were getting about their life around me and I was in my bubble of chaos and pain.

I eventually looked down at the steering wheel and then at the gears. I mustered what energy I could and put the car into first, looked in my rear vision mirror, and proceeded to turn back home.

The day felt surreal. Time stood still. I sat on the edge of the bed looking out to our beautiful, backyard garden: the garden we had built together.

My mind was oscillating between numb and frantic thoughts of life ahead, alone. Then, I started to feel the anger. 'How could you do this to me!?' my victim appealed. 'At least, you could have told me when I appealed to you so many times. Don't I deserve that!?' I was now crying.

I rehearsed my monologue - the pain I would instill in him - upon his return, whenever that would be.

Hours had passed and I didn't move from the bed. I was lying down, still gazing out the window but it was dark now and there was no view. I heard the front door latch. The adrenaline moved through me.

The hormones gave flight. I sat upright and straightened my hair. Why; I don't know.

Steve entered the bedroom and sighed as if he'd had a hard day. He saw my look and knew something was wrong.

'What's wrong?' he said looking genuinely concerned.

My rehearsed words would not come; I was mute, but the tears did. I hung my head in my hands and wept.

Steve rushed to my side and held me. I jumped away, acting betrayed. He looked puzzled - the look I'd seen many times in the last few months.

'What is going on with you!?' he was now demanding.

I opened my phone and hurled it at the man I desperately loved. 'She texted me!' I exclaimed in hate.

He looked at the message then up at me and was shaking his head. This action was repeated several times almost in a synchronistic dance but, he had no words.

'Ah!' I sounded in frustration and moved to the wardrobe to pack a bag.

It was now that Steve was finding his words. He hastened over to me and dragged me back to the bed to sit. 'Listen, I don't know what this is!'

'What!?' I pleaded. 'Can't you just give me the truth!? It is what it is! I will move on! I just wanted you to be honest with me!' I started to sob again.

Steve spoke in a more adamant tone than I'd ever heard from his mouth, 'I...don't...know...what...this...is!'

I suddenly stopped sobbing and looked straight at him, into his eyes but, once again, was lost for words. This micro-moment gave Steve his chance. 'This bothers me because this is not a message from me'. He was shaking his head again.

He started to wipe my tears as I continued to gaze into his beautiful eyes in uncertainty. Then I found my voice and I started spewing these questions that I'd had locked up in my mind for months.

'Where have you been going after work?'

'Why do you behave mysteriously when I try to talk to you?'

'Who is she!?'

Steve smiled a loving smile that I hadn't seen in months. 'There is no one else. I've been planning our anniversary, which is now not going to be a surprise, and there is no other 'she'!' he blurted out: something he obviously couldn't have told me before.

I believed him. I wrapped my arms around him and sobbed some more. He held me tight.

As we held each other in this familiar, loving embrace that I hadn't had for months, it hit me. 'Who in hell has access to your phone!?'

Steve was shaking his head again, trying to retrieve an answer from his brain.

'Reset your password!' I desperately begged.

'Someone has the hots for you' I spelled out to him with surprising relief - even though this mystery woman had compromised our privacy - I realized he was still my man.

'Now, about our anniversary...' I grinned.