Five Years in Love: How a Long-Distance Engagement, Three Years Living Together, and His Infidelity …

I was in that relationship for five years. We were married for two, and before that, three years living together. While we were engaged, most of our relationship was long-distance. Wed see each other every three months, and there was even a year when we only saw each other twice because of his work. I didnt see it as a problem then. On the contrary it felt perfect. We missed each other, would cry during our calls, our messages and video chats always bursting with affection. We never argued. Neither of us was jealous. We respected each others space. He could go out for dinner with friends, Id go out to a party, and it never became an issue. He even helped me pick out my clothes. Not anything provocative hed often say a certain dress looked too tight, and suggested I wear something that flattered me more. He was never controlling. In fact, he seemed proud of me and the way I looked. Everything felt healthy, calm, ideal.

One December was particularly hard for both of us, realising we wouldnt see each other for Christmas or New Years. We were both down. That was when he suggested we move in together that I come and live in his city. I thought about it, talked it over with my family, and they gave me their blessing if thats what I wanted. I left my job and moved to Manchester to be with him.

The first few months were good. The first year together was a period of adjustment getting used to each others quirks, our morning routines, what were like when hungry or annoyed, what little things grate on us and what doesnt. Since I was out of work, I took care of the house. Everything ticked along quite smoothly.

The second year was even better. We became a proper team and hit a rather intense honeymoon phase. We wanted to spend every moment together. When he wasnt working, we were inseparable. We looked like newlyweds. Everything seemed right. I felt sure Id made the right choice.

But by the third year, things began to change. He started coming home late. We always shared our phone locations, but one day he switched his off without saying a word. Suddenly hed come home at five or six in the morning, meant to be off to work by eight. Hed just shower, grab breakfast, and go out again. Explanations stopped. Arguments became a constant.

Then came the moment that truly marked me. I found make-up stains on his white shirt foundation and lipstick, all across the collar and sleeve. It wasnt a small mark; it was clear as day. I asked for an explanation. Thats when he said something Ill never forget that hed had to look elsewhere for what I no longer gave him, as he thought Id become boring, too caught up in tidying and cleaning the house. That was more than enough for me. He never actually said, ‘Yes, I cheated,’ but didnt deny it either. He confirmed it without having to say the words.

I was utterly broken. I cried constantly. It felt like physical pain in my chest. I had no idea what to do, how to get through it. So I decided to do something for myself. I went back to the gym. I used to train before moving in with him but had let that slip. At the gym, I met another man. We started talking. It was nice. One day, he invited me out for a drink, and I was the one who suggested we go back to his. He agreed. We arranged to meet in the afternoon. We both knew where it was heading.

That same day, at home after seeing him in the morning at the gym, the thought wouldnt leave my mind: This cant be. Im about to cheat. He deserves it. And then immediately, I told myself: No. I will not become like him. I decided to end things first.

I waited for my husband to come home for lunch. I didnt even let him into the bedroom. We sat in the dining room, and I told him it was over, that hed betrayed me and I didnt want to know with whom or for how long. That this ended here and now. He tried to downplay it, said the woman meant nothing, she wasnt like me, that we could fix things. I told him I didnt want to continue.

I never told him Id met someone else or felt attracted to another. I simply said I was leaving. My bags were already packed. He asked where Id go, if there was someone waiting for me. I said it didnt matter, Id figure it out.

I left that house with my suitcases and went to the other mans flat. He looked shocked when he saw me with all that luggage. I explained Id just left my husband and would be heading back to my hometown, York, the next day. I just wanted to spend that night with him. He agreed.

That night was like nothing Id ever experienced before. I dont know if it was the anger, the pain, or years worth of pent-up feelings, but it was unlike anything Id had with my ex-husband.

The next day, I bought a train ticket and returned to York. I had nowhere to go, so I went back to my parents house. I wanted nothing more to do with my ex. That was two years ago. Today, Im single, working again, renting a flat, and dont regret leaving for a second. Id come very close to cheating, but I knew when to stop to leave first, so I wouldnt become the person he was to me.