I always thought I was rational and level-headed. All of that appeared to go out the window with my marriage! My mind was clouded by doubt for weeks or months. The truth broke me after I thought my husband was cheating.
Damien, our once-jovial husband, had changed. He grew distant, lied about spending our money, and became quiet, like he was retreating into a shell I couldn’t penetrate.
It started simple with missing supper, staying late at work, and hiding his phone, which was ringing with unanswered messages.
I initially dismissed it. People go through phases, I told myself. Maybe he was stressed. As weeks passed, I felt something was seriously wrong. The darkest regions of my mind whispered things I didn’t want to believe.
Seeing someone else? Am I losing him? Each time I approached him, he looked at me with tired eyes and made a half-hearted excuse. “It’s just work, Lacy,” he told her, smiling. Nothing to worry about.”
His words rang hollow, and I couldn’t believe them.
He snapped when he returned home after midnight, smelling of whiskey. He went to bed without saying a word, leaving me furious and scared. No matter how unpleasant, I needed the truth.
You might have done the same thing if you were me, but I’m not proud of it. I needed to verify the situation.
Spying on Damien was horrible, but I needed to know the truth more than my guilt.
My old nanny camera was revived the next day, and I nervously placed it in our living room. My angle was perfect to catch the full space without becoming noticeable. I wanted to know his activities when I wasn’t there.
I braced for the worst—catching my husband with a younger woman. In the first few days, I couldn’t bring myself to watch the film. It was too scary to face my biggest worries.
Damien’s withdrawal increased our home’s tension. I couldn’t endure it! After my husband again went silent, I opened up the footage on my laptop one evening.
I watched the screen with a racing heart. Damien returned looking exhausted. He dropped onto the couch and covered his face with his hands without turning on the lights. I felt sympathy briefly, but my thirst for information overcame it.
I fast-forwarded through the tape, watching him sit motionless for what seemed like an eternity. He then reached into his coat pocket. I choked on my breath. I couldn’t believe it as he pulled out an envelope and unfolded a letter with shaking hands.
After ten years, my spouse started reading, and I noticed the tears. Few droplets fell on his cheeks at first. However, his shoulders started shaking, and he crumpled into himself, crying quietly in the dark. I’d never seen him cry. Never.
I couldn’t comprehend what I saw on the screen. There was no other woman or hidden calls or messages. Damien alone in the dark fell apart in a way I had never seen before.
Watching the image over and again, my mind raced with ideas. That letter included what? He kept this from me—why? Though I couldn’t understand it, I knew I had to read that letter.
I noticed which coat the envelope was in and grabbed it. My restless sleep woke me up at night. Unable to sleep, I wanted to know what tragedy had torn him apart.
I quickly snatched the letter from where he was sleeping. Read the first sentences, and my heart sank. I read that my husband was dying next to his name. The thought of dying consumed my attention. I was unable to read farther.
Unsure, I placed the package back and waited for Damien to wake up, my heart beating. He arrived in the kitchen fatigued, much more so than the night before.
His eyes were bloodshot and had heavy rings like he hadn’t slept in days. “Morning,” he said, pouring himself coffee. He stared at his cup as if it contained all the answers, not at me.
“Damien, we need to talk,” I replied, trembling despite my efforts to keep calm.
I caught a glimpse of terror in his eyes as he looked up. “What’s going on, Lacy?” he said nervously.
“I saw you last night,” I continued, attempting to speak clearly. I know about the letter, Damien. I noticed your tears. Please explain.”
His face went colorless, and I thought he may faint. With shaky hands, he set down his coffee and glanced at the table.
“Lacy, I didn’t want you to find out this way,” he muttered.
What’s in the letter? I leaned forward and pressed. “Please tell me the truth.”
His breath was deep. “I’ve been diagnosed with something,” he murmured quietly, nearly imperceptible. “It’s not good, Lacy.”
My heart jumped. What do you mean? What’s wrong?
Damien looked up at me, crying. His voice cracked as he said, “It’s cancer.” “Terminal. The doctors gave me six months, possibly less.”
It felt like the floor fell out from under me. The room whirled, and I grabbed the table edge for balance.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice broke as I whispered. “Why did you hide this from me?”
He grabbed my hand, trembling. “Because I didn’t want you to go through this,” he added, crying. “I didn’t want you to see me die. I thought… If I kept everything to myself, it might be easier for you.”
“Easier?” Repeating, my voice rose in surprised. “How could you think excluding me would help? Damien, teamwork is expected. We should address issues together. You cannot just do this alone.”
“I know,” he whispered, regretful. “My love, I know and am sorry. It scared me. I didn’t want you to see me damaged and weak. I believed I could protect you but hurt you.”
I hugged him to stop the tears from bursting.
You don’t need to shield me, darling. I’m your wife. Whatever happens, I’ll support you. Let’s face this together. No more secrets.”
He nodded and hugged me, his eyes full with thanks and grief. He murmured, “I don’t deserve you, Lacy,” choking with emotion. “But I’m glad I have you.”
We hugged each other for a long time, grieving over everything we were losing. Though the path ahead was painfully hard, I knew we would face it together.
After that, I kept thinking about all the time we could have spent together if he had told me the truth. But I knew obsessing on it wouldn’t help. The important thing was that we were together.
Damien changed physically and emotionally over the weeks. He started confiding in me about his worries! We tried to make the most of our time by finding joy in everyday moments!
We went on park walks, watched movies at home, and established a bucket list of things to accomplish together before it was too late! My spouse smiled melancholy at me as we watched the sunset on the porch.
“I wish I had told you sooner, Lacy,” he whispered. “I wasted so much time hiding from you, from us.”
Shaking my head, I squeezed his hand. Baby, don’t think about that. What matters is our unity. Nothing can undo the past, but we can make the most of our time.”
With tears in his eyes, he nodded. He muttered, “I don’t want to leave you,” breaking. However, I appreciate our time together. Your presence has eased these months, rabbit. How would I have done it without you?”
When I rested my head on his shoulder, tears came to my eyes.
“My angel, you no longer need to do anything alone. I’ll be with you throughout.”
We sat in one other’s arms as the sun set. I realized something significant then. I wanted to catch Damien betraying me because I thought he was hiding something dreadful.
I discovered a heartbreaking truth, yet it also brought us closer than in years. As we always should, we would confront it side by side for as long we had.