Mrs. A is crying, and her voice quivers as she talks.  I guess what really got me was that when I got home he was there.  He was still up, and he said he had to get some sleep.  I said, ‘All right,’ and asked him if I could talk with him.  He said he didn’t want to go to sleep in bed, but wanted to sleep on the couch.  I said, ‘All right, if that’s the way it has to be.’  I said, ‘Isn’t there any chance at all for me?’ He said no.  He keeps asking me why I’m making it hard.  I told him whatever he decides, I’m not going to stand in the way.  I told him that I wanted him—I was honest—that I didn’t want to lose him, but if he decided that he wanted her or if something fell through with her and he still didn’t want me, I could accept it.

He said, ‘Even if it fell through and I came back to you, I’d probably think about her the rest of my life.’ And I said I could even accept that.  I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I just didn’t realize things are as bad as they are.  Whenever I thought things were bad, he’d say things are okay.  I’d say, ‘But they are not for me.’ But he’d always say they are going fine for him.  I guess I just didn’t understand.

I wanted to talk to him.  I wanted to know if I had a chance.  I told him that I thought he really didn’t know me, and I thought I ought to have a chance with him like she has.  I thought I’d have a chance to be myself around him, and he said he’d give me a chance, but that didn’t mean that there is a chance for our marriage to work or that he would want me back.

He slept on the couch, and I went into the bedroom.  It just—it hit me all at once.  I have to do something.  It hurts too much.  I can’t stand it.

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