Many people say that children repeat the fate of their parents. My grandmother divorced her first husband because he cheated on her. My mother divorced my father when she found out about his second family. Mom’s sister also divorced her husband because of her husband’s infidelity.
I longed to break this vicious circle, so I was in no hurry to get married. Even a serious relationship scared me. I usually dated a new guy for a couple of months and then plagued myself and him with constant outbursts of jealousy. Of course, most people couldn’t stand it, so they broke it off.
I was already in my 30s, desperate to meet my love and get married someday. My friend Max listened to me whine every day and one day he said: “Why are you looking for someone when the person who loves you is right there?”
I was taken aback and didn’t quite understand the meaning of these words. But then Max abruptly came up and hugged me like no one had ever hugged me before. After that, we talked a lot, and he told me that he had long been in love with me, and I did not notice him. We started dating, and soon we were married. I can’t say that I was madly in love with Max, but I was comfortable with him. However, my fits of jealousy began to make themselves felt. I was afraid that I would scare my husband away and I took a desperate step.
We went with my girlfriends to a club. I wanted to party and dance hard, to get my emotions out. But then I saw an enchanting handsome man, my eyes clouded with cocktails. I do not remember how it happened, but I spent that night in the apartment of this handsome stranger. In the morning, before he woke up, I ran home to my husband. Max believed that I had just been out too much with my girlfriends. And the worst was ahead of me. I got pregnant. And I’m pretty sure it was a stranger’s baby.
But my husband believed we had been let down by protection and was happy with the news of the pregnancy. We had a son, and when he grew up, he was a spitting image of that handsome man from the club. I told my husband that my son looked like my great uncle, but Max had no doubts about his paternity anyway.
A happy five years passed. Our baby boy grew up healthy and beautiful, and of his infidelity I did not think at all. But then, as a thunderbolt from out of the blue, my husband shocked me with his treason. Max was on his knees, crying like a boy, saying that he had been drunk at a friend’s birthday party and did not remember how he ended up in bed with some girl.
The amazing thing was that I wasn’t upset or pissed off. I just went ahead and forgave Max. He was so happy and grateful for my kindness and understanding. But he had no idea that I had cheated on him, too. “1 to 1,” I thought, and maybe that wasn’t the final score.
