The ExH's 2nd Wife: One of my Chick Issue Stories

Boundaries around here seem to be shifting, or at least loosening up a little. When The Mr. and I first got together, and more so when we first broached the topic of ethical non-monogamy I had a firm “NO CHICKS” rule. Not only does that mean we won’t play with females, but that there were to be no new female friends for him. I felt so strongly about not allowing females into our life that the idea of getting involved with a guy that had another girlfriend or consenting wife was off the table, even if we never met her.

My personal history of betrayal by other women runs very deep and very long. Two examples of this were the women that were my closest friends in my 20’s. One of whom ended up with The ExH living in her home in a shared situation with her husband. The other is legally married to The ExH to this day, but they’ve been separated for awhile. Either one of them could have had him and I would have simply said, “Good luck and be sure you get regular STI testing.” 

They both saw how things were in my marriage. They both knew about all the lying, cheating and the one time in my life that someone else’s business ended in a prescription. They were both women that I bonded with deeply and shared daily living space with for extended periods of time. They were family to me in ways that meant more than the blood relatives I haven’t seen in a decade. And they both went about things in such a deceitful, hurtful manner that I don’t speak to either one as of this day.

The ExH’s current wife, N, was our neighbor in Germany. She was pregnant with her only child and married to a man that did the same job as The ExH. She was a couple years younger than me and expressed once that she was jealous because I was a better cook and housekeeper than she was. We used to have uniform ironing parties in our kitchen together where I taught her how to use liquid starch and she taught me the easiest way to line the creases up. We would cook meals in both apartments with the doors propped open as we moved between the two kitchens as though they were part of one home.

Fast forward a few years and we are in Texas just a few blocks away from each other. Her marriage was ending and The ExH was getting ready to deploy. She needed a place to stay and I needed help while I recovered from a surgery I’d scheduled. She moved into the spare bedroom and rather than pay rent she took on the cooking and cleaning I was unable to do. We had the kind of non-sexual cuddling that I’d seen between sisters and best friends. Until N it had felt awkward to be near another woman like that. It was not uncommon for us to run around the house in our underwear, change clothes in the same room and even cuddle up on the couch while watching movies. She was my person.

Once I was recovered enough to start playing again, she and I partnered up in another manner a few times with a guy that ended up being a long-term friend with benefits of mine. Later we had another threesome with another long-term FWB of mine. I shared two of them more than willingly. The third one is a story unto itself. I was single by then and had feelings for him. She knew how I felt, but went after him anyway. I chalked it up to her personal issues and didn’t take it to heart. Much. I said even then that she wanted so much to be like me that she followed in my every foot step.

 Over the years we drifted in and out of daily contact and she moved an hour away to her parents’ place. Her psychiatric issues were getting worse, and when I would go see her it was apparent that she was abusing the medications she’d been prescribed. I had driven up to take her to Dr.’s appointments a few times and met a boyfriend or two along the way. At one point she was sharing an apartment with her younger brother, but he was kicking her and her son out. She was not able to work, and her parents had 'disowned her' yet again. My daughter looked at her son as a little brother, and N as another Mommy figure after the way we had all lived together. I had just ended a relationship and had a spare bedroom in my house again. It was My Kiddo that persuaded me to invite them to come down and stay with us to get on her feet.

The ExH and I were friendly at this point, and N had been like family to us both so it wasn’t weird to ask him to assist with the move. He had a truck and no full-time job. I was working a lot of hours and very much in the throes of realigning myself emotionally and financially after a year and a half with a guy and a baby in my home. That Tuesday, the ExH made his first trip to help with the packing. Wednesday they started filling my garage with her belongings and Thursday they completed the unpacking process and brought me sushi for when I got home from work. Having The ExH in my home like that was briefly healing in a way. We were able to be friends without the weirdness or the baggage some couples might have. He had begun flirting with me again not a week earlier, but he seemed to have accepted my flat-out ‘No’ and was okay to be my friend at last. 

Friday saw all of ‘the good’ and the familiar comfort end abruptly.  It was one of the hardest work days of my entire adult life. I had to assist in the firing of over 300 people, and then tell another 150 that they were furloughed for up to eight weeks. During the entire process I was waiting to be called into my managers’ office to be told that I was being demoted with a big pay cut. All of this, knowing that I had just agreed to help support a friend and her son on top of my own high school aged daughter. 

That night I went out for a beer with R, rather than go straight home. R was the woman that The ExH lived with for a year after we separated. When karma hit her by way of The ExH getting involved with and eventually living with her teenage babysitter I had allowed a degree of mending between us. Better to forgive and not hold onto the pain of betrayal, right? That was my take on it at the time. 

It was around 10pm when I pulled up to my house and saw The ExH’s truck parked in front. I was worn out mentally, physically and emotionally and then got hit with a wave of that old sensation I would get when The ExH and I were together and he was somehow ‘misbehaving.’ I walked in to find them sitting on my couch watching a movie. I remember going to my room and finding evidence of N's son’s hamster on my bed and being really angry, way angrier than was rational. I remember lying in bed with that same feeling of hurt, betrayal, abandonment, and anger I had lived with for all those years with ExH. Around 2am I got up to get a glass of water and before I made it down the hall, The ExH was on his feet in the doorway between the living room and kitchen hastily asking if I was okay and what was wrong. It was that same sign of guilt he always exhibited when he was lying to me about something and trying to cover up what he was doing. And what was wrong was that he was in my house on my couch with my friend at 2am when he had a home of his own only blocks away. His teenage girlfriend was still living there, but she was out of town that weekend so if they had wanted to spend time together they had somewhere to go. Instead, they were in my home doing, or not doing anything at 2am on a Friday night after one of the worst days of my professional life. 

Early the next morning I work up and sent him a text message: “Are you home?”

When he said yes, I replied, “Good. I’m coming over.” 

I know he was blindsided by the way I spoke to him. I rationalize and minimized his role in things due to the PTSD, the TBI and all the other acronyms he lives with after his time in Iraq. I tell myself that he is dumb and always had a crush on N and that he was looking for an excuse to get rid of his girlfriend. But N was none of these things. She was my friend and of all the ways she could have gone about things she did so in my home and on my couch. She was looking for someone to take care of her and she knew that she could use all of the things about The ExH she knew to achieve her goal.

That Saturday morning I stood on the porch of the home I had purchased with The ExH just as I had once before after I moved out and he moved R’s teenage babysitter in. I stood there shaking and crying with anger and he looked at me confused and unprepared for the venom that flowed. The end of it was simple, “Get her out of my house.”

I left for the day and told him to text me when they were done. That was the last time I spoke to N. 

A few months later my daughter sent me a message while I was at work. It said that they were getting married and wanted her to be in the wedding. She had formed her own opinion of N by this time. The ExH would invite her along for “family outings” with N and her son, who my Kiddo truly loved as a sibling. N would be high on her meds, smoking and drinking and yelling at her son. The ExH kept inviting My Kiddo to do things with them, but she refused to go anywhere with him unless he assured her that N would not be there. Not only did N’s behavior hurt me, an adult woman, but it added another chip to my daughter’s foundation as she saw what “friends” and “family” can do to each other. She saw how awful women can be to each other and all I can do is hope that she finds herself surrounded by better women than I have had in my life

.

The saddest part of it all is that sitting here now these things still sting. I can rationalize it all and use my ‘grown up brain’ to see why the people in my life did what they did. Realistically, hurting me wasn’t part of their agenda. They were each working on their own shit and didn’t bother to check for collateral damage. But N is only the most recent in a life-long story of women betraying each other. I have been determined to make it the last one and in doing so am closing myself off from ever being close to another woman like I was with N and with R. 

Just typing that made my grown up brain applaud and my girl-brain wince in pain.

I have been on both sides of this kind of story. I have been the mistress as often as I’ve been the scorned wife. I’ve seen both sides of this coin and know all too well what it looks like inside and out. I’m not sure how I’ll work through this one. I hate the idea of being so jaded, but at the same time women betraying each other has been so much a part of my reality that I cannot fathom a world where it is safe to trust someone like that again.

The Mr. recently became Facebook friends with the female Sub of a mutual friend of ours. For the first time in ages, my claws didn't come out knowing she had sent him a friend request and not me. I did not feel defensive, catty or weird at all about him making friends with another woman. This is a new place for me, and I know it's due to the amazing level of honesty, respect, trust and communication The Mr. and I have.