Here, Sushy, 42, tells the story in her own words.
L￼ooking back over my beautiful wedding photos, a bittersweet smile twitched at the corners of my mouth.
I was tanned, slim and, most importantly, happy. Standing at the altar in Las Vegas saying my vows was the proudest day of my life. How had it gone so wrong?
The first time I set eyes on Norman wasn’t the most romantic of meetings. It was 1999 and I was working as a nanny when I spotted a team of construction workers
busy down the street. As I walked by, one of them stood up and caught my eye. He was gorgeous. I don’t know what came over me, but I found myself heading towards him.
‘Fancy a drink one night?’ I asked, as bold as brass. I got butterflies when his twinkling eyes locked onto mine and we made a date.
That was the start of our love story. Norman proposed to me on a holiday in New York, then, in 2006, we married in Las Vegas. Our two beautiful children came along soon after and our perfect family was complete.
But in 2013, Norman’s behaviour suddenly changed. The first thing I noticed was that he was taking more care over his appearance. Previously, his tatty old T-shirts and scruffy haircuts had been a sticking point between us.‘You should show off your good looks,’ I told him. ‘I’m happy the way I am,’ my man would smile.
Then, out of the blue, he began dressing smartly and splashing on aftershave. I didn’t complain though – in fact I liked it. But when he started coming home from work later and later, I started to become annoyed. ‘I went for a drink after my shift ended,’ he’d explain.
It seemed unfair that he was always off gallivanting around while I was at home looking after our children.
Already suspicious of the changes in Norman, when he started getting protective over his phone, my mind went into overdrive. ‘Are you having an affair?’ I blurted out one night, dreading the answer. ‘Of course not,’ he laughed. ‘You’re imagining things.’
I felt reassured, until one evening, while Norman was upstairs, I managed to sneak a look at his texts. I miss you so much, read one from a woman whose name I didn’t recognise. It wasn’t evidence of an affair, but it was enough to make me feel uneasy. But again, Norman had an explanation. ‘Oh her? I met her at the pub and she’s got a bit of a crush on me. To be honest I feel sorry for her,’ he confessed.
Then one morning, I’d just arrived home from doing the school run when a note dropped through the letterbox. Strolling back from the front door, I began unfolding it. What I read stopped me in my tracks.
Dear Su, I can’t see you at the school gates anymore and look you in the eye knowing that your old man is playing around, it said.
My hands trembled as the dreadful truth dawned on me. Norman had been cheating. And, even worse, other people knew about this before I did. Did all the other mums
at the school gate know? I felt so humiliated.
Without hesitating, I phoned Norman at work. I needed answers. ‘That’s ridiculous, someone’s got it in for me,’ he gasped as I read the note out to him.
But he wasn’t getting away with it that easily. As soon as he walked through the door that evening, we’d be having a very serious discussion.
In the meantime, I tried to get to the bottom of who my anonymous source was. Unable to bear the thought of asking the school mums, I wrote a cryptic post on Facebook explaining that I needed to talk to whoever had sent me the note. But nobody owned up.
That night, Norman tried to squirm his way out of telling me the truth. At first he told me he’d only kissed a few women over the years, but then three weeks later he revealed the sickening story. ‘I’ve been having an affair for five months,’ he admitted.
I was devastated. In that moment, the trust between us was broken forever. I meant every single one of the wedding vows, but it was clear Norman hadn’t.
In the end, he packed a bag and left. It will take a lot for me to ever trust another man. I thought I’d be with Norman for the rest of our lives, enjoying our grandchildren and long retirement holidays in the sunshine. All my hopes and dreams for our future were suddenly snatched away.
I never found out who delivered that anonymous note, and I still wish they’d had the courage to tell me to my face.
Still, I’m grateful to whoever wrote it. Otherwise I may never have discovered the truth about my lying, cheating husband.
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