Can you keep a secret? (affairs)
Can you keep a secret? (affairs)
So there I was, engaged to be married by my very first real boyfriend. This was in the early 90’s so no cellphones. I finished school, moved into a bachelors flat close to my work (those days I used public transport). My fiancé, who was working in the Police vehicle theft department at the time told me he did not like to visit me, my flat was too small, he got claustrophobic. So I spent my time mostly alone.
I made a new friend at the bus stop one morning, her name was Margo, and her boyfriend lived in the army barracks. She lived with her mom. We soon became good friends, and having lots of free time on our hands, we caught a bus one late afternoon, went for some drinks, and then went clubbing. By the time we were ready to leave, the bus services stopped for the night but there was no shortage of eligible bachelors who offered us a ride. We chose the most innocent looking one, and we sat in the back of his car.
we got back to my flat ( with Margo’s just across the street), thanked our ride, and got out the car.
Little did I know mr. Obsessive Compulsive Freak decided to ordain me with a visit that night. Since I was not holed up in my little flat, he decided to wait up for me across the road, in a parking area, with the lights of his car turned off, like a panther stalking his prey. The next thing I knew my fiancé smashed his fist through the innocent guy’s window and had him by the neck.
Margo and I screamed and ran for our flat block entry ways. By the time he let go of the guy, realizing his innocence it was my turn.
Let’s put this in perspective, shall we? I’m 1.6 meters tall, and my fiancé was a very impressive 1.98. He grabbed me by the neck, lifted me off the floor and pushed me against the wall, screaming all sorts of profanities at me, and of course I could smell the liquor on his breath, so where was he boozing it up?
But how DARE I go anywhere without him, and without permission!
The neighbors called the police, and since my fiancé ‘s partner at work by the name of Johan did not live far from me, he arrived to try and keep the rest of the police from arresting a fellow police officer for assault. My voice box was crushed, I was crying and splattered with blood (fortunately not my own), it appears that if you smash your fist through a car window, glass breaks and cut you. Who knew!! Johan, bless his soul, got me to my apartment safely and told me he would be back to check on me, but had to get the Pshyco to go home first.
Where do I start describing my feelings!
Embarrassment, pain, disgust, and indignation at not being trusted, even if I did harmless activities without him. I showered got into my silky PJ top and shorties (expecting the night to be over) and went to bed. About an hour later there was a knock on the door. I sleepily opened the door, it was Johan, the angel who came and checked on me. I made tea, and did not really realize I was not exactly wearing visitor clothes. Sometimes him and the Freak would come and pick me up to go to work in the mornings, and he dated the most gorgeous brunette I ever laid my eyes on. They broke up awhile back and I had a secret young girl crush on him ☺️.
I started by explaining all the things that was wrong with my situation, and then cried while he held me.
I was engaged to be married to the person who assaulted me earlier that evening. Since my flat was a bachelorette’ s pad it had a small kitchen, and basically a bedroom. We sat on the bed and he consoled me. Eventually we lay down and as I was feeling better, and happy that someone listened, and gave attention to my feelings. (and it just happened to be a gorgeous blond with blue eyes), I felt a certain hard feeling of an anatomy part of epic proportions make it’s appearance between us..
Feeling vindictive and vengeful I gave in, we started kissing and went on to have the hottest sex I have had up to that point in my life (just the fiancé from hell before him).
He visited often. We were clever. He would drive around the block first ( if it was a surprise visit), or we would make arrangements to meet again. The fiancé never visited, my flat was, after all, too small! It did however have a giant sliding door that opened over the street below where muscle car races took place every Sunday night.
Our favorite activity, besides smoking hot sex, was to lie on my big pillows, in front of my 3rd story window each with hot cocoa and tiny marshmallow and watched the races.
Occasionally I visited at his flat a few streets up from where I lived, and he kept on urging me not to go through with the wedding. He did not make any promises to me, and that was the one thing that could have stopped the whole 7 year fiasco I was about to live. Just one word of commitment from him, would have me break up with my fiancé. Unfortunately that word never came and I got married in the worst way, the worst day of my life ( more about that in best friend). I needed stability, never really had that up until then, and so I married the FREAK. We’d been saving and buying trousseau for almost 4 years by then!
We went away to Cape Town for a cheap 3 week honeymoon ( we stayed in his sister’s house while she visited her mother). And a week after our return to the new duplex we now lived in, my new husband was called to officers school in Paarl, Cape Town for 3 months. I was lonely, and Johan came knocking.. He visited for a short while and when he realized I was not about to continue with our elicit affair since being married we said our goodbyes.
We were lovers for 2 years up to that point, and I missed his presence in my life. the next time I saw him, years later he attended a police function were I was also invited to go. He had his hands tangled with a pretty and petite blond Wife. The look he gave me broke my heart. It said I chose better than you. It said yours will never last. But most of all, it said you did not choose me.
yes I was scared of having nobody, I was scared if I left the freak, I would also not see Johan again, I was afraid to make big decisions, and I was just at the start of my grown up life – a mere 19 years old, trying to make grownup decisions. I was just too afraid to take responsibility for any decision, because I did not think I could face the consequences.
I paid dearly for choosing wrong, and I sometimes wonder what happened to him. If his decision turned out to be right or if he chose wrong too. I wonder if I chose him, would we still be together all these years later.
the fiancé /husband never found out about our affair – never even suspected I could do something so utterly despicable to him. I always reminded myself of Johan every time my husband came home after a one night stand, with some random girl, confessing his sins to me. I forgave him the first 3 times, and after that I make the right choice and left him, but with virtually only the clothes on my back. Even if it was 7 years too late.
I lost a deep connection to a wonderful man ( and I’m not referring to the husband here), It was too late for me to have Johan, but I was ready to get out there, live my life, party, meet people who had NOTHING TO DO WITH POLICE, it was time for me to catch up the years I lost. I became the happy 19 year old again in my soul, and work my way back to being 26. That helped soothe the pain, but I will always wonder about wat happened to Johan.
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