It was after my husband's Christmas work party one year when two of his colleagues (one male and one female) came over for an after part of sorts. In truth, we had all been having a good time at the holiday party, and neither my husband nor myself wanted it to end.
There had been a few times in the past when I'd felt something was a bit off with the female colleague of his. We'd have parties, and she'd spend more time following my husband around and talking with him rather than being with her own husband and family. My husband always told me I was being jealous and ridiculous when I would bring that up, so I did my best to push it all aside.
This was our 14th or 15th Christmas together as a couple, and by now I was used to grappling with what my husband would call "me being crazy" - otherwise known as the insecurities I felt with him being around other women.
So, this time I was going to prove him wrong. I was going to be totally FINE with having this female colleague over - even though she often seemed to follow him around like a lost puppy.
We came back to the house, and the 4 of us got into the hot tub. As an aside, don't you just love a hot tub on a cold winter night? Anyway...drinks were involved. One might say that too many drinks were involved, at least for some.
Before long, I looked down and noticed HER feet rubbing all up and down my husband's legs.
Thank goodness for hot tub lights, right? She seemed to be unaware of the fact that I was staring at her with a look of total disbelief. My gaze shifted between him to her to him to her. She was initiating all the footsie, but he wasn't moving his legs away. He was just letting her rub on him. Over and Over. I didn't want to make a scene, although perhaps in hindsight I should have made more of a scene than I did.
After a few minutes of what I'll call foot fondling, I'd had enough. I disentangled my husband's legs from her feet and moved his legs closer to mine.
When we got out of the hot tub and the other two went inside to get changed, I confronted him about it. He asked me not to say anything to her and not to make a big deal out of it. He said that she'd had too much to drink and that he would talk with her about it so it wouldn't happen again.
I didn't make a scene. I didn't say anything. I let him handle it. A few days later, I received an apology text from her. Despite her attempts at making amends, I've never forgotten that night. The part that really sticks with me most is that while he "apologized" for her inappropriate behavior and justified it given her many libations, he never explained his own behavior. Why had he just let her do that to him? Why hadn't he moved his legs away? Why hadn't he stopped it?
Why would a married man in love with his wife allow another woman to play footsie with him?
Perhaps the bigger question is this: Why would I hold her accountable but not him?
As usual, I pushed it down. Down, down, deep inside. I ignored my gut. I didn't listen. That decision would end up haunting me for years. Read the continuing story here: The Snowy Sleepover.
What would you do had you been me? Would you have handled it differently? What do you think?
Did He Cheat?
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