guiltily ever after
I first cheated on my husband just six months into our marriage. We’d been childhood sweethearts, together for over 10 years and best friends. It was with someone that I worked with, the stereotypical nature of it so predictable. I was not caught, and soon one dalliance spiralled into a multitude of affairs – before I knew it I’d engaged in sexual relationships with four men in the space of just a year. It’s hard to explain the magnitude of the guilt and shame. The cold spread of it as you open your eyes each morning. That small glimmer of hope where your mind convinces your body it was just a nightmare – before reality hits, slamming you into a wall. The heaviness, the tremble in each limb, the enormity of
