One night, unexpectedly, during a love-making session, my wife made a confession about one of her affairs.
There are two affairs that she's previously confessed. This third confession confirmed one of the more curious, and troubling events that I have long suspected, and to some extent been haunted by.
Around two years after our last child was born, and probably a year or so after the Halloween party indiscretion with "Mark," my wife was involved in a severe car accident.
The details the specific accident are unimportant, other than she suffered a number of serious, but not life-threatening injuries.
Fortunately the safety systems of her car did their job. After recovering from the initial trauma of the accident, she had lingering pain and discomfort in her lower back, neck, and shoulders.
The recommended treatment was physical therapy, combined with massage therapy.
After the accident, I was in a period at work that required frequent travel.
In retrospect, I was certainly less than attentive to my wife's needs, and failed to recognize the trauma related to the aftermath of the accident. The ongoing physical issues were obvious, but there was an emotional component I was unaware of.
KK started a physical and massage therapy regime, and I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to it, given travel demands, distractions with the kids, and so on.
I happened to be off the road on a Tuesday, and in my office.
The school called, and the nurse informed me that I needed to come and pick up one of the kids, who had become ill - apparently my wife, the primary contact, was not reachable.
As I made my exit to go collect the kid, I was troubled - I called my wife's cell phone, and it went straight to voicemail. I went and picked up the kid, and headed home.
When I arrived, her car was not in the drive, or garage, and once I got the kid settled in, I made a few more calls - no answer at her studio, her cell went straight-away to voicemail, and even a couple of her friends whom I called had no idea where my wife might be.
Mid-afternoon, I heard the garage door open, and my wife appeared in the den, where I was sitting.
KK was wearing a black velour warm-up suit, sneakers, and her hair was in a pony-tail, but wet.
She looked shocked, and very surprised to see me, and said, "What are you doing home?"
I told her that the school had called, sick kid, etc., and that since she was no where to be found, I took care of it - I was overly bitter and chastising of her absence in my tone, but I was annoyed.
I told her, "I guess its a lucky thing I wasn't on an airplane, or in another city, huh?"
All I got was an angry scowl, followed by, "It's so nice to be a single parent..."
She stormed off down the hall without another word.
I did not elect to press the issue, and about an hour and a half later, she returned to the den.
Although I had not asked for any explanation, she said, "Did you forget? I was at physical therapy, and I wasn't near my phone. I'm glad you were here to deal with the kid."
That was it. She went on about her routine, and although I was still troubled about the incident, I soon enough forgot about it, and it was off my radar.
KK continued physical therapy for about eight months. During that interval, there were a few more unusual incidents, missed appointments, leaving very early for her morning PT sessions, and stuff I probably should have noticed.
Things like new workout wear that seemed a little too sexy for a married mom going to PT sessions, lots of new lingerie, from sexy panties and thongs to lacy, matching bra and panty sets, stuff that KK didn't characteristically wear. It never occurred to me at the time, that my wife was dressing sexy for someone else.
In that eight month, I got a couple of surprise bills from the PT/massage clinic. I made some phone calls, and it turned out insurance was only covering six of the eight months - that was after my wife, on her own, had negotiated with the insurer and the other driver's lawyer to extend coverage from the original three months.
It all seemed fishy, and that evening I asked her about it, without being confrontational.
KK got very upset, and made a few excuses that she was still having neck, shoulder, and back pain, and it wasn't up to the insurance company to say how long it took her to recover.
It was odd, because she seemed way more upset and angry than necessary, and I told her that it wasn't a problem, that we could keep paying out of pocket until she felt like she had full recovery.
Then she bitched at me some more, which was even stranger, telling me it was none of my business anyway, and that she would handle it. That was coupled to some ranting about why I had to even be involved at all, damn insurance company, and so on.
Once again, after a few days, it was off my radar.
About two months later, I was meeting an associate for lunch, Dana, who was collaborating on a development project with me.
Dana told me that she ran into my wife earlier that day in her neighborhood.
It struck me that my wife was sort of way off course.
I was dimly aware that she had a PT appointment that morning, and was supposed to be (I thought) at whatever clinical facility she visited.
I asked Dana if she knew why KK was in the neighborhood, and she told me that there was a massage therapist a couple of houses down, and across the street, that ran his "practice" partially from his home!
Dana said, "He gets a lot of traffic, so your wife was probably getting a treatment or something, right?"
I tried to hide my surprise. KK had said nothing about "home treatment," and had told me she was still visiting the clinic for therapy.
My response got an odd look from Dana, "Treatment, or something... do you know this massage guy?"
Dana said, "I only know him casually. He's pretty cute, and I see him around the neighborhood all the time walking his dog. Jerry (Dana's husband) doesn't like him, because he's kind of an ass, and "too flirty" with the married women in the neighborhood."
The "too flirty" comment was disturbing, and I tried to refocus the conversation to business, so I could finish up with Dana and make an exit. My anxiety level was off the chart.
I suffered the rest of the day in mental and emotional distress, thinking about this - physical therapy and massage therapy that had run 7-months or so beyond what the insurance originally agreed to pay, the gaps and odd incidents in KK's schedule, the too-sexy workout wear, lingerie, and now her being at some "massage therapist's" in-home practice. It all added up in my mind to no good. I didn't have a plan for what I was going to do about it.
So I sat on the knowledge overnight, and the next day.
When I got home that evening, I mentioned casually to KK that I'd had lunch with Dana, who'd mentioned that she'd bumped into her "in the neighborhood."
KK immediately bristled.
I didn't press, and after a long pause, my wife said, "Um, yeah, my neck hurt like hell and I had to schedule a therapeutic massage visit - I was dying! The therapist was working out of his home studio that day. That's all."
I played along, and said, "Well, I hope you're better baby. I'm so sorry you're still hurting."
The tension eventually declined, and the remainder of the evening was uneventful.
She was supposed to have another "session" on Friday morning, so I decided to do a little detective work.
Friday morning, I was supposed to travel, but I changed my plans, and decided to use the gap in the morning to spy on my wife.
I set up the situation that I was going to head to the airport from home mid-morning. I'd packed and made out like I was set to go.
When KK left the house, I waited about five minutes, then got in the car, and headed to the neighborhood where my associate Dana, and the supposed "massage therapist" lived, not knowing what I was really going to do.
