I had an affair with my best friend’s husband – 10 years later, we are still together
The first time I met Joe* he was abrupt, bordering on rude. It was his daughter’s birthday party and I was dropping off my eldest girl for the afternoon.
I stood on the front step clutching her hand, and when the door suddenly swung back, we were met by the scowling face of an obviously irritated, but handsome, man.
I remember smiling tentatively and asking if we were at the right address. Without a word, the door was slammed in my face.
A minute later, the door reopened and Joe’s wife Steph* was standing there with a strained smile on her face as she welcomed my daughter inside.
As I made my way back to the car I thought about Joe’s obnoxious reaction – it was safe to say that he had made an impression. I glanced back at the house to see him watching me as I walked away. Apparently, so had I.
It would still take another three years before anything happened between us. I was 30 when we met and had been married to Liam* for eight years, with four young children. Liam worked in construction and 14 hour days were the norm.
I wasn’t particularly unhappy, but I wasn’t blissful either. Through our children, Steph and I had become fast friends, socialising together both with and without our husbands. Joe was an enigma to me, the mean and moody type, and just like the cliché, I was smitten straight away.
Just a few months after that first meeting on the doorstep, intrigue had manifested into full-blown attraction. I never planned to act on my growing feelings – it never even occurred to me.
It was like a deliciously private secret that was all mine. One night, we found ourselves the last two left after a celebration with a group of mates. Steph had gone home after one too many glasses of wine, leaving Joe and I to finish our drinks.
The air between us became charged with tension. We stumbled through some inconsequential small talk before finally leaving to make our way home to our respective houses.
Walking back, Joe stopped and his intense stare made it clear to me what was about to happen. Seconds later we found ourselves kissing passionately.
We discussed the possibility of a future together but our lives were so intertwined it seemed impossible
When we finally pulled apart I had no hesitation in taking him home. My house happened to be empty; I felt like it was fate. When I woke the next morning, Joe was gone and I was overwrought with shame and fear.
I was scared of being discovered and riddled with anxiety at the thought of facing Steph and my husband. Joe felt the same, but it didn’t last long. Within a few days, we were both consumed with the need to see each other again.
Our initial shame was quickly replaced by reckless self-indulgence. In an attempt at self-preservation, I tried my utmost not to think of the children or our spouses. It caused paralyzing guilt when I did. Joe and I embarked on a year-long affair, throughout which we became masters at compartmentalisation.
