I placed my hand over my heart. Wow. That was heartbreaking. And there were more.
I knew when his hours started getting longer at the office and his business trips became more frequent, something was wrong. But I kept thinking we'd had children together and I'd followed him around the country for his work, setting my career to the side to raise our children. Then he forgot his phone one day and she called. We had a nice little chat. She had no idea he was married. That didn't stop her from seeing my now ex-husband. They didn't last. Now he admits what a mistake it was. But I refuse to take him back. I'd rather be a sidelined wife than someone's afterthought or consolation prize. Hang in there, from one sidelined wife to another.
The Sidelined Wife? I scrolled through more comments to find that's what several people were referring to me as, just like Autumn Moone had. Not a title I ever thought I would have, but it was exactly how I felt. I wanted to respond individually to everyone that had commented, but it would have taken hours. I couldn't believe the response. I hated that we were all part of this club of cheated on and tossed aside wives.
I decided to write another post to thank everyone. I wasn't exactly sure what to say, so I went with a humorous approach.
Welcome to the Sidelined Wives Club. I'm not sure whether to congratulate you or give my condolences. Let's go with congratulations. We've all made it through hell and we're still alive; that's something to celebrate. And now we know we aren't alone. We have each other in this sucktastic adventure. We should probably lay some ground rules for the club.
Absolutely no husbands. But bashing of said husbands is allowed, even welcomed.
If husband has moved on, bashing of new wife or girlfriend is allowed. For example: she has bad bangs, her taste in clothing is hideous, her eyebrows are too close together, her IQ is lower than her age. You get the idea.
Whining is allowed. Weeping and wailing is also permissible.
Sharing is caring. Be sure to share stories of triumph and survival tricks.
This is a safe space, although talk of doing anything illegal (i.e. anything that would put you in jail or make us testify against you) is frowned upon.
And never forget, you're not alone. You got this.
All joking aside, your words and stories have touched and inspired me, so thank you. I'm off now to see if there is any chocolate mousse pie left.
Yours Truly,
Sidelined Wife in Chief
I probably sounded ridiculous, but I clicked publish anyway. Like I said, it was the oddest night. I read the sneak peek one more time trying not to picture Reed. I did my best to picture the guy I usually pictured when I read about Hunter Black, the underwear model-I mean, the guy with the adorable puppy I started following on Instagram last year. That didn't help. It only made me see the resemblance between the puppy guy and Reed. If I started picturing Reed in his underwear, I was getting a lobotomy. He would be coaching my son, for crying out loud. Come to think of it, I had seen more of him than I'd ever wanted. Reed and Peter had streaked through the woods once and jumped into the lake during one of our vacations. Granted, they didn't know I was a witness. I had snuck off with Joel, the groundskeeper's son. I was seventeen and he was twenty. That seemed so risqué to me back then. Joel had taught me how to French kiss, and we were fine tuning our skills when Peter and Reed gave us a show. Joel laughed, while I wanted to throw up in my mouth. Thankfully, I only caught their backsides.
Now look at me, staring at Reed's butt. What had happened to my life?
Chapter Twelve
The weird events from the day before followed me into the next day. I woke up to even more followers and comments. Not only that, but Autumn Moone linked my latest post to her website with the caption that she liked my style.
My rules for the Sidelined Wives Club were a hit, at least for most. Some haters and men didn't appreciate them, but I either ignored them or deleted their comments. It was much more fun to read women calling out their exes and their replacements. One woman even got creative and wrote a poem and added a picture of a buxom brunette. Meet Susie. Susie is a floozy. I thought she was my friend, but that hit a dead end. But no need to worry, she left my ex in a hurry. Now Greg begs for me to take him back, but all I do is laugh. You see, the joke's on him, I got his money and a new honey. Life is swell with Miguel. So the moral of the story is, we are better off without the pigs. Don't you fret or sweat their loss. Go and live your life like a boss. And, P.S., it's his loss.
I laughed so hard I snorted there in the kitchen while making breakfast.
Cody came down stretching and yawning, but ready for practice. "What's so funny?"
I clicked out of my blog and set my phone down on the counter. "Just read something funny online." I wasn't sure Cody would appreciate my posts. I wasn't even sure he knew I had a blog. I followed him on Instagram, which he hated even though he hardly ever posted anything. I guess there was this fear I would embarrass him on social media or perhaps catch him doing something he knew I would frown upon. That hadn't happened yet. Yet. I grew up with two brothers, so I knew it was inevitable.
Cody took a stool at the kitchen island and ran his fingers through his hair.
"We should probably get your hair cut this weekend before school starts." I started cracking the eggs I had been ignoring while reading comments.
He shrugged. "I was thinking about growing it out."
I stopped mid-crack and gave him a good look. "I thought you didn't like it longer because your curls came out."
He focused on the granite counter top. "Well, maybe I like it now."
"Okay. What's her name? Is it Rory from last night?" She was a super cute girl. The kind that made me nervous, with her tiny waist and chest that was bigger than mine. And she had the hair swishing thing down with her long, golden locks. I recognized it, because once upon a time I did the same thing.
Cody's head popped up with a disconcerting look. "I just want to try something new." He wasn't owning anything.
"It's okay if you like her." Not really, but I knew it was inevitable.
"We're just friends."
His declaration gave me no comfort. I could hear the hesitancy in his voice. "Well, I've always loved your curls."
Neil had the same ones when we met. I pushed that thought out and replaced it with my cute, chubby baby and his curls that I couldn't get enough of. I let Cody pretend he didn't hear his mom say she loved his hair while I finished cracking eggs for omelets. Then I did my best to pretend like everything was okay while I thought about getting a Latin lover named Miguel.
I was glad Hershel couldn't give Cody a ride today. Well, sort of. It meant allowing Cody to drive. I may have squealed a few times. He took corners way too fast. And morning traffic was no place for a fifteen-year-old. It certainly got my blood pumping. I would no longer be needing my cardio workout for the day.
Cody pulled into the school parking lot, and not a moment too soon. The omelet I had eaten for breakfast was debating on making a reappearance. Something else made my insides feel different, too. Reed was walking across the parking lot and waved at me. I was still feeling guilty for checking out his butt and seeing him as Hunter Black. I swore he gave me a grin like he knew it, too. How could he? I ignored him and focused back on Cody.
"Don't get a concussion, drink lots of water, don't look at porn, think good thoughts, and remember who loves you most. Me." This was what I basically said to him every time we parted. Someday soon I would be adding, don't make me a grandma.
And like he always did, he rolled his eyes. "Bye, Mom."
"I'm waiting for the ‘I love you.'"
He mumbled, "I love you," before we both exited the vehicle.
It was then I noticed Reed hadn't kept walking toward the football field. He was now walking toward Cody. When he and Cody met, they high-fived and said a few words I couldn't hear. I walked around the car to the driver's side, while Reed headed my way. He was wearing another Coach Cassidy polo shirt and shorts that showed off his . . . Oh my gosh, I was doing it again. I was checking out his long, lean, muscular legs. I berated myself for being able to use so many adjectives to describe them.
"Samantha." He approached with his lips pressed together.
I opened my car door and paused. For some reason I was nervous. "Hello."
"That's better." He landed near me.