My Husband's Affair Became the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me (3 page)

Something deeper was happening, too. When I looked into Brian’s blue eyes that night, I felt something inside me passionately wanting to love this man, to be his companion and constant supporter. I suddenly knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

At precisely that moment, Brian blurted, “I can’t ask you to marry me!”

“Why?” I responded.

“Because you are standing up!”

I strode out of the kitchen, headed straight for the living room sofa, and flung myself into a sitting position. Brian followed me, smiling with a sweetness rare among strong men. He got down on one knee, took my hand, and looked into my eyes.

“Anne, will you marry me?”

‘Yes, yes, yes!” I responded withjoy. It was that simple. And that right.

We hugged and we kissed and we wondered if we had both totally lost our minds. Less than three weeks had passed since the day we met.

The first thing we did was go to Tom for some sound advice. Neither of us wanted to make a decision that would end up hurting the other person. We were thrilled to hear Tom say he thought Brian and I were meant for each other. I had been raised without religious training, but had recently found meaning in life and values worth living for by including God and church in my life. Brian shared my new-found beliefs, and we thought our common

values gave us a good foundation for building a marriage.

One evening, Brian and I had driven to the beach in Galveston, we decided to spend the night together there in my Pontiac Bonneville. Now, this is exactly what two young people intent on abstinence before marriage should not do.

That night in my car, Brian, in spite of his strong physical desire for me, stopped us at the heavy kissing stage and said, “You get in the back seat and stay there. I’ll sleep here in the front. You are far too valuable a woman for me to sleep with before I’ve made a public promise to you for a lifetime.”

As a teenager, desperately looking for the love that was lacking in my life, I had been promiscuous. My mother, with her Scandinavian ideals, encouraged me to enjoy and experience my sexuality. Waiting until one is married to have sex is not encouraged in Denmark. Unfortunately these early sexual encounters were not fulfilling for me. They made me feel used and cheapened, lowered my self-esteem and left me heartbroken. I wish I had been warned of the emotional consequences of such promiscuity.

Can you imagine then, how my heart melted that night at the beach in my car, when Brian told me that I was so special, so valuable, that he wasn’t going to sleep with me until he had married me! I accept no credit for the fact that our wedding night was our first night “together.” That night in my car, I was overcome with desire and certainly would have given myself to him.

Our wedding was very small and hugely joyful. There were twenty people present: my guardians (who had made it possible for me to complete my schooling in the United States), my father, my best friend, Tom’s close family, four coworkers, and five friends from my church. I wore a beautiful wedding dress I’d found in a Salvation Army thrift store, and I glowed from head to foot. It had been five weeks since the day we first met.

Much to the dismay of my father, who had offered to rent us a fancy car for the occasion, we chose to make our getaway aboard

Brian’s motorcycle. We left in the pouring rain. It was the happiest day of my life. If I had it to do all over again, I would do only one thing differently. I would delay the wedding long enough to allow my mother time to travel from Europe. In my youthful state of self-centered bliss, it had not occurred to me that a mother should be given the opportunity to attend her only daughter’s wedding, even if she were 5,000 miles away.

Our honeymoon consisted of finishing Brian’s vacation, returning to Canada on his motorcycle, and including a detour to Vancouver so I could meet his family. We loved riding the motorcycle through the warm desert highways of New Mexico and Arizona, figuring out ways to kiss while wearing helmets and keeping our eyes on the road. Once Brian drove the motorcycle way out into the desert somewhere, and we made love in the sand near a cactus or two.

After spending a couple of weeks with Brian’s family in Vancouver, we parked the motorcycle, a smart move when traveling through the Canadian Rockies in November, and booked a flight to Calgary, Alberta. When we stepped off the plane together it was-20°C-and me with my suitcase full of summery clothing that was suitable year-round in Houston. I had left behind all my other belongings for my new life in a small Alberta town with a man I was determined to love for the rest of my days.

So started my adventure, and had either Brian or I been able to see the snares that lay before us-including bankruptcy, infidelity, arson, suicide attempts and drunk driving convictions-I think we would have been too afraid to begin. But then we would have missed the blessings in disguise that the universe brings us all when we determine to live our lives with integrity and-no matter what happens-to never, never, never quit.

Life is not a straight and simple path, but I am convinced that each detour along the way holds a lesson uniquely designed to prepare us for our greater destiny, if we are only courageous enough to learn that lesson. As the saying goes, joy comes in the journey, not just in the final destination.

With Brian’s confessions, it felt as though my journey was now blocked by an impassable boulder. I sat motionless, stunned. I had had no idea Brian was having an affair. I had never imagined there was anyone else. I had grown to trust him one hundred percent.

I knew these things could happen to couples and that’s why I never took Brian for granted. That’s why I worked so hard to learn and do all I could to be a great wife.

I felt as if my blood had stopped flowing through my veins. There was a sharp pain in my chest, as if someone was cutting apart the inside of my heart, turning and ripping a sharp knife into my flesh.

But I ignored the pain and the growing lump in my throat.

“I forgive you,” I said placidly, as if this was a church play and I was a perfect little church mouse, performing according to script. My mind could not grasp what was happening.

“I knew you would say that,” Brian snarled with frustration. “I wish you would just get mad and throw me out of the house. It would be so much easier!”

I explained that Brian would have to choose between us. It was her or me. I knew full well he would choose me. After all, the love we shared was genuine. Besides, I was desperate to get my Cinderella life back. After a long silence had elapsed, I realized that Brian actually wasn’t sure who to choose. I was in a state of total disbelief.

Brian told me the rest of the story. He had known this other woman for six months. They met through work. She was one of the structural architects for the construction project Brian was working on. Their affair had taken place over the past two months during their lunch hours, in spite of our agreement that neither one of us would go for lunch alone with a member of the opposite sex. We had developed this policy precisely to protect our marriage from a situation like this.

The other woman was one year younger than myself, and according to Brian, she looked like me. She was also married and had one child, a six-year old girl. So there was not one, but there were two, families being broken up here. I didn’t care to know her name yet, so I never asked. I was satisfied to be reassured that I had never met this woman. To me, she was a stranger and an enemy.

Brian and I sat in silence just staring, at nothing, for a long time. There was nothing more to say. Eventually he left the room and went to bed. I was unable to move from my chair.

So that was it. My husband was not only having an affair, but he had developed strong feelings for this other woman-feelings so strong, in fact, that when forced to choose, he wasn’t sure who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. I was not about to share my husband.

My marriage was hanging in the balance. My security was gone. My future had suddenly and without warning become unknown. Would he choose her or me?

I did not move from my chair all night. I sat frozen in place, staring into the darkness. This was the first night in eighteen years that Brian went to bed without kissing me goodnight. Even that felt surreal.

The pain was too great to bear. I was in a state of shock. It would have been much easier to deal with death than this betrayal by one so loved, so close, so trusted.

How could this be happening to me? Why were there no warning signs? If we had argued recently ... but we had been getting along wonderfully. If sex had been less exciting ... but we had been having great sex every night.

Well, maybe there were a few nights when I was too exhausted from a busy day. But whenever I didn’t fall asleep the minute my head hit the pillow, we had sex. On a scale of one to ten, we had lots of tens-and a few what I call “regular sex” nights thrown in between.

I really thought I knew Brian. I was sure that I would have detected anything wrong in our relationship. The whole thing was so unfair, so utterly cruel. I hated the other woman.

For a fleeting moment, I imagined myself murdering her. I wanted to kill this horrible, awful human animal without morals who had come into my life and turned my perfect world upside down.

Then I was horrified. I couldn’t believe that I had entertained a thought of killing someone. I saw that I had evil lurking within me, just below the surface. I saw inside myself and what I saw was ugly. I immediately forced the evil fantasies out of my thoughts and tried to think good thoughts. What would a good person do?

But for the first time in my life, I understood how one human being could take the life of another.

I thought about God and I was grateful that I had taken the time to develop a spiritual anchor to sustain me in my life’s darkest hour.

“Even when walking through the dark valley of the shadow of death I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me, guarding, guiding all the way ...Your goodness and unfailing kindness shall be with me all of my life, and afterwards I will live with you forever in your home.”

PSALM 23, THE LIVING BIBLE

The words I had once taken the time to memorize comforted me.

CHAPTER 2
Before the Affair 

The first year of my marriage was the best year of my life. The whole year was like a honeymoon. In fact, we were married for eight months before we even had an argument.

Brian ran his own construction business, and I spent my days cleaning our small apartment, doing laundry, preparing meals and baking. It gave me lots of time to pursue the other activities I loved: reading, learning, walking, sports and friends. Brian and I also started working with local teenagers through our church, and found a real calling in organizing activities for them and inspiring them to reach for their highest destinies. The love Brian and I shared was truly special. When I compared notes with my girlfriends, I found that few other couples in our circle were experiencing marriage with the same level of intimacy. Many women I knew complained about their husbands, often insulting them, even in public. As I listened to their stories, I felt sorry for these women, but I also wondered if their marriages wouldn’t have been better if they had encouraged their husbands more.

My motto was, “Treat a man as though he were what he ought to be, and he will become a better man.” I tried to help Brian in everything he did. I admired him and believed in him wholeheartedly. He repeatedly proved himself to be wise, caring and kind. He also had a friendly personality and was well liked. I enjoyed showing up for social gatherings on his arm, just knowing I was the wife of Brian Bercht.

The two of us hadn’t yet discussed whether we would have children, but in January, a little over a year after our wedding, I missed my monthly cycle. January gave way to February, and still no menstrual cycle.

“Maybe you should see a doctor,” Brian said. Ten days later the doctor said, “Congratulations, Mrs. Bercht, you’re pregnant.”

Hearing this news, a sense of joy welled up so large within me I could scarcely take it in. Also, like many expectant mothers the world over, I could hardly wait! The love I felt for the tiny unknown human growing within me was already overwhelming. I busied myself eating the healthiest of foods, reading pregnancy and parenting books, and ensuring that I did everything to help that precious child grow healthy and strong inside me.

I clearly remember my first day at home with my new baby. Baby Danielle. Brian drove us from the hospital to our brand-new home which he had built for us. We had lunch and made love. Then, after a few hours, he went back to work. I waved from the living room window and watched his truck disappear down the snowy road.

Suddenly, I felt incredibly alone. It was just me and a tiny helpless child. My child. I knew nothing about babies, and I couldn’t bear to fail this precious little person in any way. If the world was a fair place, each baby would come equipped like a doll from a store with a guarantee and an instruction booklet.

I held Danielle gently, securely, and affectionately in my arms. She was sleeping peacefully. Secretly I promised this new little person that I would always take care of her. I would never neglect her. I would do whatever it took to give her what she needed, notjust physically, but emotionally as well. Then I felt afraid. It seemed too large a task, too big a responsibility, too much of a risk. I cried and longed