It was 2007 and two days before Christmas. I was at my Mum’s with my daughter. It was a Sunday and John had gone to church. He randomly called me and asked if I wanted to be picked up. Surprised, I said yes and he said he’d be there in twenty minutes.
When we got in the car, I noticed he wasn’t in his suit – as in the suit he was wearing when he left the flat that morning. He was supposed to be at church until much later into the evening – I questioned why he was early. He said he just left early.
Odd.
I probed some more.
“But you don’t normally get to finish early? And I would have thought it would be busy this close to Christmas?”
John was one of the ushers so he was usually ‘serving’. He would normally agree to do every service he could if it meant not being home with me.
He didn’t answer other than “we’ll talk later.”
I didn’t press him, but I had that sinking feeling in my stomach.
It was after I’d put our daughter to bed and went to sit in the bedroom that he came in. He told me he’d been asked to step down from his usher role. I asked why? He replied:
“Because I almost slept with one of the female ushers and she told the Pastor.”
I think my heart stopped for a moment. My head was spinning. We’d been married for two years. This was our daughter’s first Christmas. This man had ruined my life.
“What do you mean ‘almost’? How do you ‘almost’ sleep with someone?”
“We got down to our underwear but we didn’t go through with it. I didn’t cheat on you.”
“Yes, you did!!!”
“Well, if you weren’t so ‘effing frigid I wouldn’t have to go looking elsewhere! Imagine, I was considering having sex with some fat bird when I’ve got you at home and you don’t want to come near me!”
“So, this is my fault?! You don’t think if you had put your energy into what you have in front of you that you wouldn’t get a different response? You’re texting other women all the time, you’re never home and when you are you don’t talk to me – you don’t engage with your daughter – you don’t do anything to help me but I should be ready to lay down with you as soon as you’re ready?? I should be turned on by a man who’s interested in everyone else but me??!”
It was a good speech. I was hot and angry. He looked at the floor and barely above a whisper said:
“I’m sorry.”
I went to the bathroom, locked the door and cried. I cried hard. It hurt – a lot.
John sat outside the door for a bit saying how sorry he was, but I didn’t respond – couldn’t respond through all my heaving sobs. He eventually went away.
I don’t know how long I was in the bathroom but when I finally got up off the floor I went straight to the bedroom and got into bed. John came in and I told him I didn’t want him in there. He got angry again:
“Don’t be silly – I’ll sleep on one side; you sleep on the other – as usual.”
As if that was necessary.
I stood my ground and he stomped off to sleep on the sofa.
Two days before Christmas, the storm had finally hit and it looked like my marriage was over.
This Can't Be Love 