"I thought that my wife Helene and I had a better marriage than many other couples we knew. No cheating, no arguing, which were common among several others in our neighborhood in one of the best areas just outside a Scandinavian county capital.
We were in our mid thirties and had two kids. Helene worked 80 % of a full time at an insurance company but had got so much overtime the last weeks that she had almost full time. I worked as a constructional engineer. Helen was still in good shape and as she usually was well dressed and kept her hair well done, she looked much younger than her 34 and as she was an easygoing character she was popular both at the job and among her friends. I was still in hot love with her and had always done my best to be a good husband during our marriage. But times were going to change, unfortunately not to the better.
During the last five weeks after that Helene came back from a conference our sex life had been falling down to it's lowest level since we met 10 years ago. It began with those "worn out" expressions usually used in jokes as "headache and too tired after a hard day at the job". And then when I got too fed up by her increasing lack of interest for sex in the martial bed I decided to take a time out from it. She never did any attempts to do anything about it. I think she didn't care. I had noted even some other minor changes in her behavior such as shorter skirts, more make up and the hair done more often an before. I am not more stupid that I understood that something was wrong and began to search after clues but could not find anything. Of course, I accused her that something had happened at the conference, which got her to skip our martial sex and give all her love to some Casanova she met at the conference. She denied that anything had happened neither at any conference nor afterwards and accused me to be paranoid because she worked hard to be promoted at her job. My question if she had to do her hard job in some asshole's bed got her mad. I even tried to get her by surprise and one day when she phoned me at my job about a problem she had with her car I said, "Have you asked him?"
She said "no" and then shouted, "What the hell did you say?"
"Just a joke my love." I replied with a laugh but had got my first little clue.
One evening when she had left her key ring on a bench in the hall I noted an extra key on it. She usually had one for the house, one for the garage and one for her car. When Helene took a shower after her jogging tour, I took the ring to my den, took several close-up photos of the unknown key with my digital camera and mixed some Plastic Padding and took an imprint of it's both sides. The next day I went to a locksmith who told me that the key was a standard key to an apartment in an old house. No problem to do one after the imprints and the pictures.
Thereafter I tried another trick. One Wednesday morning I told her that I must be away overnight but went home at seven a clock in the evening without connecting her and telling her that my overnight stay was cancelled. Now I got my first real clue. She had dressed in a sexy black short party dress for to going out at the evening, which she didn't, told me when I phoned her at three o'clock. I pretended to be glad and told her, "Good news my love, didn't have to stay overnight, are you going out my love?"
Then Helen's cell phone, which lay on a cupboard in the kitchen, rang and as I stood closer I took the call before she could take it and replied with a pretended feminine voice, "Hi."
A male voice at the other end said, "Hello darling, are you ready to go?"
I got too angry to pretend to be Helen any longer and shouted, "Piss off asshole, I'll castrate you." The line got dead.
Then I turned towards the now a bit pale Helen and told her, "Your boyfriend called me darling. Is the damn asshole bi? However, I'm afraid he cancelled your date."
"Wrong number, of course, you silly rude idiot, you ought to know that my so called boyfriend only exists in your dirty imagination."
"OK then, where are you going tonight in that such a sexy outfit? If youโve got a babysitter and the lover boy doesn't dare come and catch you, maybe you and I can go out for celebrating something?"
"We don't have anything to celebrate."
"We can get something, what about a happy divorce?"
"I don't go anywhere with you when you begin to yell about divorce without any reason at all. I intended to go to Lena for some gossip, but when you are such a jealous jerk, it's better I'll stay at home and never go out"
"I've never denied you to go anywhere, I only asked because I thought that a husband is allowed to know where his wife is going. And do you think that I'm such an idiot that I do believe you are dressed up and get your hair done when you are going to neighbor for a gossip. You had a date with that damn asshole that has been fucking you since the damn โwhoring conferenceโ. Please correct me if I'm wrong."
Now she had begun to cry when she replied, "You are totally mad, really mad, indeed. I don't go anywhere. I'm going to bed, and you can forget all your thoughts about anything in the bedroom for a long time. Pay the babysitter and send her home when she comes. Good night."