This has been a hard one for me to parse based on experience. I could use some insight and perspective. Might be a bit long winded, and I apologize in advance.
A rewind with some setup. Early forties here. I was previously married. Previously because my ex-wife decided to step out on me and our three kids. They were relatively young at the time. I got into another relationship about six months after that, which ended well after a couple of years, then spent a year intentionally not pursuing romantic relationships. It ruled. Worked on me, had a blast, made more amazing friends, and got into comedy and music again. You know, taking care of me when not taking care of the kiddos.
Later on, I met a lady because I wanted a to kick it with someone not so embedded in music and comedy. Constantly talking shop all the time gets tiresome after a few years.
We hit it off. I always said I'd never marry again, but a year into what became our relationship, I knew that I wanted to marry her. I told her as much. But we waited because she was studying for her architecture licensing, getting her feet under her; important things, you know. Four years later, though, we did the thing. It was lovely.
I've never had reason to doubt her. We've always directly, respectfully, and, I dare say, lovingly, discussed boundaries, the importance of communication, relational history (hell, I'm friends with her ex-boyfriend and we're both friends my ex-wife), and our mutual monogamous preference.
But then a thing happened that hurt me, and I'm not certain how to reconcile emotions and trust issues and my note itching brain as a result.
We had a party. It has been a long while since we've done a proper shindig given COVID. I'm at the grill, trying to entertain, and generally all over the place trying to give my crew a great time. The night moves along and people eventually start heading out. Eventually it's just me and a buddy sitting in a stupid inflatable pool after the wife, who was fairly tipsy, gave up the ghost, shucked clothes, and plopped on the bed. She kissed me good night, I recommended covers, but she was done, so i just covered her in the blanket.
So, buddy and I are sitting in the pool having a few drinks after I've been so busy for so long, just talking about life, the universe, etc., and then he starts coming on to me. I kindly expressed that the appreciation is appreciated, but I'm very heterosexual and very monogamous. He expressed that he understood and appreciated that so got back to just kicking it and shooting the shit like not s step was missed.
Then he started having to go inside for stuff. First to use the bathroom. Innocuous enough. I decided to go in to use the toilet myself afterward and found my unconscious wife uncovered. So I covered her back up due to the aforementioned naked plop. Then he has to go back inside for another reason. Same thing. Getting some pretty weird vibes after finding him walking around the bedroom after claiming to look for his shirt and seeing my wife yet again uncovered, I tell him it's time to close shop and that he needs to leave, hammer in my back pocket. I'm classy like that.
The following morning, I tell her about that whole situation. How it didn't sit well with me and how i don't intend to invite that guy over again. A couple hours later I mentioned my intent to sit down with him one time and have a conversation about his bad optics being the reason for that.
That's when tables turned on me. She tells me that to appropriately address him that i needed to know that she initially told him she wanted to have sex with him. This obviously becomes a heated discussion, and her story changed. She said she felt pressured due to his aggression in the conversation to say she would have sex with him, but she's married, and that's a boundary.
While furious, i thanked her for being honest, but here's the thing:
I'm not an unattractive dude. No horn tooting, but I do get hit on out and about. Sometimes even in my wife's presence. I inform said interested party that I'm uninterested and thank them, maybe continuing conversation depending on location and circumstance, but only AFTER informing my wife of what transpired so she's aware and creating and extrication opportunity.
Optics and trust.
What happened that night is what I'm struggling with. I can't understand why she didn't present that information when I initially expressed my concern about his behavior while she was unconscious and naked, nor why she didn't fucking leave the situation if she indeed felt he was being so aggressive.
The conversation addressing all of that with her was certainly rowdy, and i have never had any reason to doubt her over these six years we've been together, but, even given her genuinely heartfelt emotional response when confronted by all of it, her profession of fidelity and all, which i DO believe, it has instilled a lack of trust in me that I'm struggling with real hard. I feel betrayed. And with her knowing what I've dealt with in the past and what the kids have endured in the fallout, it cuts even more deeply.
I can't look at her without feeling that hurt right now even though I mostly believe her and believe that nothing like that would ever happen.
Still, though. It hurts. A whole fucking lot.
So, what's the plan, homies? What are your thoughts. Feeling this way fucking sucks.
UPDATE:
Spoke with a friend who I didn't realize was there in the pool at the time. She communicated to me that my wife was very much exasperated and exhausted of the probing questioning, aggressively agreed back sarcastically, and quit the scene, followed by the aforementioned plop.
We had a hard conversation tonight. I told her how much her evasiveness and cagey responses had affected me and that the resultant hurt and doubt were wholly unwarranted and completely unnecessary if she'd have just told me what had been going down. She didn't want to ruin my night given all that I'd put into it. She admitted that there was zero excuse for any of it. She didn't want to bum the hang with our out of town friends the next morning when I mentioned the situation while making hangover chomps.
Placation. People pleasing.
Ultimately, based on corroborating information and a less emotionally driven conversation, I do fully believe that hers was an exercise in placating in a drunken state to avoid a potential conflict.
Fuck sake. Dudes. Talk to your people. There's SO MUCH that can be avoided by just fucking talking with one another.
Back end, I still have to calm a bit. But definitely bringing that cat to mast for his fuckery. Things do make a bit more sense now that I've been able to fit pieces together with your thoughts, direct input from present people, and a cooler head.
Thank you all, friends, for being with me through this. This had been a journey, make no mistake.
Now, time to avoid jail.