I was driving my taxi on a quiet night when I got a call for a pickup in a really nice part of town. I pulled up to the address, stayed in the car, and waited. Two well-dressed guys got into the back seat with my wife’s best friend squeezed between them. They gave me the address to drop them off at—her house.
I thought nothing of it. As we drove, they started fooling around in the back seat. Her friend was bragging to the guys, telling them how much they were going to enjoy her friend when they met her. Apparently, my wife was in very high demand, and it was going to cost them extra.
My hands tightened on the wheel, but I stayed quiet. I was just grateful my wife had such a good friend who kept her company while I worked two jobs. We pulled up to her house, and as they got out, one of the guys handed me a twenty-pound tip. I looked across at the front door just in time to see my wife open it, dressed only in her underwear and high heels.
She smiled, hugged her friend, then kissed both guys as they disappeared inside. I was floored. I didn’t know what to do. I drove around the corner and parked, sitting there trying to process what I’d just seen.
I got out, walked back to the house, crept up to the lounge window, and peered in. What I saw took my breath away. All four of them were naked. My wife was being taken by the guy who had tipped me, and she was putting on quite a show.
I watched in disbelief for a few minutes. When he finished, he handed her over to the other guy, who started on her as well. I went back to the car, called in for the night, and went home. In the morning, my wife called me to pick her up.
I went and got her, not saying a word the whole way home. When we got inside, she asked me what was wrong, why I was so quiet. I ignored her for a bit and made some coffee. She kept asking.
Finally, I said, “I saw you last night. You didn’t see me. I was the driver who dropped those guys off to you. ”
She paused for a moment, then crumbled to the floor, crying, begging me to forgive her.
I went upstairs and started packing her bags. “We’re done,” I told her. She begged me to let her explain. I needed to hear it for my own sanity, so I let her talk.
She told me her friend made her money from escort work, and she had convinced my wife to try it. She swore she only did it once at first, to try to get some money so I could cut back my hours. But she found it made her feel something inside. Since we hadn’t been intimate in so long, she did it again, telling herself it would be the last time.
But she got hooked. She eventually confessed she had been working as an escort for six months. But it was okay, she said, because she’d saved up so much money to pay the bills. I asked her straight there: “Would you ever have told me if I hadn’t caught you?
” She just looked at the floorand said no. Then I asked, “Are you going to stop now? ” And she said no. “It’s just sex.
I don’t love these men. It’s just sex with them. ” That was enough for me. I threw her bags out the front door.
Well then, go live with your friend, I said, as I threw her out as well. As far as I’m aware, she did go to her friend’s. My divorce papers were sent there for her. And as far as I’m aware, she’s still there today—both of them, in their fifties, still doing it for money.
As for me, I’m now married to a wonderful wife, with two great kids and a few grandkids. Life definitely changed that day for me. I haven’t looked back. I now own my own hotel, and business is doing well.
I had been working myself to exhaustion, thinking I was supporting both of us through a tough time, while she was off living a completely different life behind my back. And the fact that I was the one who unknowingly drove her clients to her? That’s just evil. The story of Jay, the man who was as emotionally available as a brick wall, finally breaking down.
I’m using a different account so my husband doesn’t know. Before meeting my current husband Jay, I was married to my ex-husband Dave. Dave and I met when we were five years old. He moved into our neighborhood when he was five—this cute boy next door.
We became inseparable. Even our parents joked that when we grew up, we would get married. Ever since I knew the concept of marriage, I was determined that I would marry Dave. We were like soulmates.
We had the same interests, the same hobbies, similar thoughts. He was my first everything—my first kiss, my first boyfriend, the guy I lost my virginity to. Among our friends, we were the perfect couple. After graduating high school, we immediately got married.
I got into a good school, but I decided to study with Dave. Our parents helped us find an apartment closer to our school. We worked hard. We would often talk about having kids.
On our sixth anniversary, we decided we would try for a baby next year. I still remember the day when we were teenagers,cuddling, we also decided what our baby names would be. During our seventh year of marriage, my mom got sick, so I had to stay with her for a while. I was planning to do something special for our seventh anniversary, so I left early to surprise him.
I went to our bedroom. And there I saw my husband being intimate with another girl in our marital bed. I can never get that image out of my head. My husband saw me,and his face turned pale.
I threw up right there on the spot. He was giving me the usual:”It’s not what it looks like. I’m sorry. It was a mistake.
” I locked myself in the bathroom. I somehow mustered my strength and called my friend to pick me up,and I didn’t listen to Dave. When my friend arrived, she charged at Dave. She grabbed some of my things,and we left.
I was in a catatonic stage at that point. Eventually my parents found out. They supported whatever decision I would make. Dave’s parents, however, wanted us to be together.
There was a huge fight,but eventually we settled for divorce. My whole fairy tale fantasy just shattered. I was spiraling into depression. My parents booked me for therapy for two years.
I was like a living corpse. After that, my friend pushed me to go on a date. I did,but no one even came close to Dave. I was searching for Dave in every guy,but they all failed to live up to that expectation.
That is when I met my now husband, Jay. Jay was the opposite of Dave. Dave was funny, he would be the life of the party. But Jay was not funny like Dave.
He would use humor only as comebacks,or if he wanted to insult someone. He was also very stoic,and closed off. Pretty boring,to my taste. On our first date, I asked him some questions, like what his favorite movie was.
He told me he doesn’t watch movies—he likes reading. He didn’t even ask me a thing, except for my educational background. He talked mostly about my field of work,but he was not interested in me. We ate dinner in silence.
I was a hundred percent sure he would not call me. But two days later, he did. He asked me out on a second date. I was skeptical about whether or not I should go,but my friend insisted.
I gave it another try. The second date went slightly better than the first. I talked a bit more, asked a few questions. We were taking it slow.
He was opening up—until the sixth date,when he finally opened up fully. The chemistry was amazing. He was so attentive. I am someone who likes a snack after intimate moments.
I was craving for something,so I asked him if I could grab something from his pantry—even a bread and cheese sandwich would do. He told me to stay there,and he went out. I was kind of confused. He came back after twenty minutes with takeout food—it was something I really liked, orange chicken.
I asked how he knew. He told me,”You told me on our previous date. ” I melted right there. Dave and I had been together for most of my life,but he never made the effort of going out and getting me something.
That’s when I knew—even if he was not my soulmate—I was madly in love with him. We dated for three years and got married. I came to know about Jay’s family, too. His mom and dad were drug addicts who died of overdose.
He was homeless for a while,but worked his way up. Throughout our marriage, I was very, very happy. He was different from Dave. Whenever he would see me doing chores,he would ask,”Need help?
” He helped me through my trauma from Dave by arranging a therapistwho specializes in infidelity. He may not be a person of words,but his actions tell me that he loves me. When I was pregnant with our daughter,I would wake him up in the middle of the night to either get me food or rub my feet. He would say,”Yes, ma’am,” and get to work.
I love him. Even after fifteen years of marriage,my love has never stopped. He is still the stoic man I fell in love with. After meeting him,I stopped believing in the concept of a soulmate.
He was not mine,but somehow we make it work. I love you, Jay. Thanks for being there in my life. And anyone who was wondering what happened to Dave—he’s getting his third divorce.
His mom blames me for this downfall,but she refuses to see that her son cheated on every marriage. I said “I love you” to my husband for the first time in five years. February 9th, 2023. My husband, forty-seven male,and I,forty-six female,have been together for eighteen years and married for fifteen.
My husband is not the type who always shows his feelings. He’s very stoic. Smiles on very few occasions,and maintains a routine. Some even say that he is a robot.
But I don’t think so. I’m someone who is very outgoing,and completely the opposite of him. Before I was married to him,I was married to someone else who cheated on me. I used to say “I love you” a lot in my first marriage,but after my divorce,I had some sort of aversion to those words.
Over the last eighteen years,we have said “I love you” only five times. The first time was when we were dating. The second was on our wedding day. The third and fourth when our daughter and son were born.
The fifth was five years ago on Christmas,when we were really tipsy because of drinks. I wrote a post about how I met him,and how we got together, but it made me realize that we haven’t said “I love you” to each other for a long time. But it didn’t bother me. Even if he never said it,he always shows that he loves me through his actions.
He does chores for me. He would always give me a foot massage. Make me my favorite dish. Even kiss me out of the blue.
I do not have any complaints. He is the best husband anyone could ever ask for. But this was something that had been in the back of my mind for a while. We cuddle.
We hang out. We make love. But still,no “I love you. ” I would love to hear it,and say it more often,but somehow it just makes me nervous.
I decided to buckle up and just say it. It’s just three words. So yesterday,when he was reading a book on the couch,I stood in front of him,and said,”I love you. ” He looked at me,and was confused.
I repeated it. For the first time,I could see him get flustered. He told me,”Okay. ” I was a little disappointed by his response.
I thought he just didn’t love me anymore. Later that night,when I was lying down,he came to our bedroom,and told me that he is sorry for his response—that I caught him off guard. He told me that he loves me a lot,and not even a day goes by he doesn’t feel lucky to have me in his life. I was tearing up.
That was better than my confession. I asked him then why don’t we say that more often. He told me that he doesn’t say it because throughout his entire life,no one has said it to him,except for me. His parents were drug addicts who cared less for him.
He had to start working since fourteen. He grew up in hardships. So saying “I love you” is weird for him. But also,he feels like we didn’t have to tell each other when we express it with our actions way more.
I told him I want to say it more now,and want him to say it back,if that’s okay with him. I saw him smile for a while. He said,”It is fine as long as I want it. I don’t think we need to say it when we know we love each other a lot.
” We will probably stop saying it after a few days,and go back to our mundane lives. Honestly,whether or not you say “I love you” every day,it’s the actions and the understanding that really matter in the long run. The story of my husband, Jay. February 19th, 2023.
A lot of you people have been asking me,and personally messaging me,about Jay’s upbringing,and how he managed to survive. Well,I’m not sure if I’m the right person to talk about his personal life. I mean,I heard some parts which really made me cry. Therefore,I will try to summarize it.
So, my husband Jay is an only child. His momand dad were from a poor family. They were drug addicts. His household was a mess.
He remembers his father pushing him down the stairs when he was like eight. Jay mostly grew up with his grandfather—his mom’s dad. As far as I know,his mom was not allowed to come to his grandfather’s house. Jay mostly spent his weekdays at his house.
His momand dad didn’t care. They were always high,and have odd visitors. His grandfather taught him a lot of things—like handling tools,woodwork,electric repairs,stuff. Ever since he was little.
With some advice from his grandfather,he learned that his parents are very useless. He has to survive on his own. All they know is how to do drugs,and invite people for having group sex. He started doing odd jobs—like dog sitting,car and window washing,gardening.
He also tutored from time to time. Shortly after his parents died of overdose,he became a permanent resident of his grandfather’s house. He worked so that he could afford to go to college. His grandfather had little money for him,but it wasn’t enough.
He thought about joining the army at eighteen,but he failed the physical test. When he was seventeen,his grandfather died of a heart attack. His grandfather lived in a rented house,so Jay couldn’t live there anymore. He was forced to live in a homeless shelter throughout his high school.
He even got bullied,and got in trouble for standing up to his bullies,but since he was a good student,he didn’t face serious repercussions. He left the homeless shelter when a pastor from their local church took him in. He knew Jay because he worked in the church for a while. The pastor was a nice guy.
He funded his living,and also helped him get a scholarship to go to university. Jay studied financeand business. His entire childhood,he lived in poverty,so he was obsessed with learning how to make money. He made some connections which landed him a good part-time job during his final year.
I met Jay through my friend. She worked in the same company as him. He worked as an investment banker at the time. And the rest,you all know.
This is pretty much it. I understand why he is so stoic,and doesn’t show his emotions. I once asked out of curiosity,that he saw the harsh reality of life,but still how does he manage to stay good. He once told me about this couple whose children he used to tutor.
They were a really nice,happy family,in his eyes. The husband loved his wife. He mentioned that the husband would always have a hand on his wife’s body as a form of affection. Their children were also well behaved,and had a good childhood.
For the moment,he knew he wanted a family like that,because he had never had a complete family. But he was sure that somebody would not be able to love him,because he doesn’t know how to show love. Throughout his entire childhood,he’s only seen his parents fight,and cheat on each other,in front of each other. That really destroyed his perception of love.
If it wasn’t for that couple,he probably wouldn’t believe that there are people in this world who can love each other for life. It’s a little wrong for me to say that he displays no emotions. He does,but on rare occasions. I remember the day our daughter was born.
Jay held her,and cried loudly. He kept repeating,”I will protect you. I will never leave you. ” He did say “I love you” to both me and her.
Same thing happened when our son was born. I mean,it gave me an idea just to pop out a baby,so that I can see his emotional face. But anyways,I know he does love me,and our little family. He always holds me tight whenever we are cuddling.
He is really good with my parents. My parents also adore him. Sometimes it just makes me cry knowing that he has been through a lot,and have lived such a sheltered life. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve him,because he is a very kind,and good person.
Also,yes,we do say “I love you” a lot more now. Final update: Thank you, Reddit. March 15th, 2023. I just wanted to give a big thanks to everyone who has been kind and supportive.
I cannot imagine that so many people will come through because of my post. A lot of you suggested therapy. To be honest,I did in the past,but my husband brushed it off,saying his past rarely bothers him. Thanks to people on Reddit,I suggested him some articles on PTSDand childhood trauma.
He studied for a bit,and found a therapist for him to help with his trauma. He only had two sessions till now. A few days ago,he came home from work,and I went to greet him like usual. He pulled in for a big hug,and started sobbing.
I told him it’s okay. We went to our bedroom,where we sat down,and talked. He told me that he was sorry for being so ice cold all these years. He opened up more,and said he was afraid to confront his demons,so he just kept them back in his head.
He had trouble expressing how he felt. He felt guilty that he didn’t say he loves me more often. I’m just paraphrasing what he told me:”I love you with all my heart. I know I don’t say it,but I feel it every day,and every moment.
I’m sorry for taking away all those years from you,not expressing my love for you. Words can not express what you actually mean to me. You gave me my kids,made my house a home. I never had that growing up.
I always wanted that,and you made it happen. I’m sorry that I was so cold,and never said I love you more,because I do. I love you a lot. I want to make it up to you.
I don’t want to waste another second of my life burying those emotions anymore. ”
It feels good to see him vulnerable—first time in his life. I cried with him that night. We talked a lot about our marriage,and the times we spent.
It was a real bonding experience. From that day on,he’s been really attentive towards me. He would always come home as early as possible,to simply have more time with me. We cuddle a lot,and also make love.
Except this time,it feels new,and different—like a newfound love. He’s been saying “I love you” to my kids. My son is confused,and my daughter just said,”Dad,you are weird. ” He’s thinking about planning a trip for just the two of us,because it has been a really long time since we had gone on a trip alone.
So thanks, Reddit. You gave me a new version of my husband,and probably strengthened my marriage with him. Not that there was a problem,but I hope my husband would not be so haunted by his demons now. It’s honestly inspiring to see him go from a stoic,ice cold robot,to someone who can finally say “I love you.
” I’m sure it was a relief to hear all that love pouring out of him after holding it in for so long. Who knew therapy could lead to such a breakthrough?
