How I Once Discovered a Cheater Without Ever Checking His Phone
Looking back, there was a time in my youth when I had a sneaking suspicion that my beau was being unfaithful. The thought of rifling through his laptop or mobile crossed my mind, but I knew that would lower me to his level. I could do better, and so I did.
First, I paid closer attention to what he said. Sometimes, those who cheat talk themselves into trouble. He did just that. For instance, one day he mentioned hed be heading to work on Sunday, but only a week later insisted hed be meeting a friend that same day. Little slip-ups, yet I noticed them all.
Then, I saw a shift in the way he communicated. He used to send me notes and letters often; we always enjoyed exchanging words. Yet as things changed, his messages became sparse. Hed take ages to respond too. That wasnt his usual way at all.
I began spending time with his circle of friends. The more time I spent with them, the more answers I got. Sometimes theyd let things slip, but mostly, it was their manner around each other that told me something was wrong. For example, my boyfriend had bought himself a new laptop. His mate asked about the old one, and my boyfriend had previously told me hed given it to this friend. In reality, the old laptop seemed to have ended up in another womans hands.
I watched his appearance, too. He began to take far more care with how he lookedbuying new shirts, visiting the barber more often. And he didnt dress up for me, that much was clear.
I asked him more about his work. Thats when I discovered there was a new staff member at his office whom hed never mentioned before. I soon suspected there was something more between them. When I questioned him about the new colleague, he became noticeably uneasy.
He started acting uncharacteristically. Suddenly, hed changed all his credit card passwords, talked about buying a cottage, wanted to see friends more often, or take up new pastimes. Too many changes at once; it was quite obvious someone else was influencing him.
He stopped noticing me. While I grew more alert to his words and actions, he was less mindful of me. He didnt so much as register my tears anymore. I felt less and less affection from him. At some point, whether or not he was truly with someone else didnt even matter. He had stopped loving me.
I made some calls. When he said he was headed to the office on his day off, I simply rang up his colleagues and asked if he was about. Of course, he wasnt. Likewise, I called the friend he was supposedly meeting when he vanished for a couple of days. The mate was baffled, had no idea what I was talking about.
Hed changed in the bedroom, too. Suddenly, there were new positions and movements. Less tenderness, and only the act itself remained.
He never left his phone unattended. Hed carry it into the bathroom and the shower, asked me not to answer it if it rang, and guarded it with a password. I couldnt even borrow it if mine went flat.
My intuition refused to quieten. I tried to convince myself I was imagining things, but the feeling lingered. In the end, I ended things with him. That, as I reflect now, was the finest decision I could have made for myself.
