I accidentally stumbled upon numerous explicit videos on my husband's computer while tidying up his desk.
The videos showed him in bed with my unmarried best friend.
The relationship between my husband and me had been platonic ever since I gave birth 40 years ago. His reason was that he was no longer capable of physical intimacy.
Now, it felt like my entire life had been a sham, despite all my efforts for my family.
I, Sheila Rossi, accidentally stumbled upon numerous explicit videos on my husband Gordon Schmidt's computer while tidying up his desk.
The videos showed him in bed with Karen Jackson, my unmarried best friend.
The relationship between my husband and me had been platonic ever since I gave birth 40 years ago. His reason was that he was no longer capable of physical intimacy.
Now, it felt like my entire life had been a sham, despite all my efforts for my family.
I stared at the screen in disbelief, my hand trembling as it hovered over the mouse.
The videos were labeled with detailed dates. In one of them, I watched as he pushed himself on top of her, kissing her neck affectionately while caressing her.
I continued scrolling until I reached the earliest video.
Although it was blurry, there was no mistaking them—they were much younger at the time. A wedding photo sat next to the bed, yet there he was, tearing another woman's clothes apart and holding her tightly.
Overcome with anguish, I collapsed onto the floor, my breaths shallow and rapid. I tried to gasp for air, but it felt like no oxygen was reaching my lungs.
Tears streamed down my face as memories flooded back—how I couldn't bring myself to leave him when he told me he was physically incapable of being intimate.
For 40 years, I subjected myself to solitude, and yet it all had been a cruel lie.
While I endured countless lonely nights, tending to both my in-laws and our children, he had been enjoying himself with my best friend.
Every time he refused to hold me at night, it was because he was saving himself for someone else.
I hated him! How could he lie to me so cruelly for 40 years?
What hurt even more was the question burning inside me: Why didn't he leave me if he no longer loved me? Why betray me like this and destroy my life?
My head was spinning, a migraine building as I ransacked every drawer, desperately searching for answers. Yet, none could be found.
I then remembered a time when my in-laws had been against Gordon marrying the woman he had been dating, though I hadn't asked why.
Without hesitation, I called Anna, my sister-in-law.
She must have sensed something was wrong because, as soon as she answered, she asked, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Anna, thanks," I replied, my voice betraying my calm. "Something just came to mind. Why were Mom and Dad so against Gordon's ex?"
"Why would we want him to marry someone who's infertile?" she answered with a question.
Her words hit me like a truck, and my phone slipped from my grasp.
No wonder Karen had forbidden me from telling my in-laws we were friends. No wonder she had never shown up around them when I was there.
Karen couldn't have children. And Gordon... Gordon had only married me to give him a child. It had all been a lie. Becoming Karen's best friend had been part of their plan all along!
Anna's voice cut through the fog in my head. "Did you cry?"
A gaping wound opened in my chest, bleeding with a pain that spread through my whole body. The sunlight streaming in felt distant and cold, the chill of betrayal seeping into my bones.
I stared at the sky, dazed, wondering what I had done to deserve this.
Just then, my phone rang again. It was Henry, my son.
"Can you make rainbow ricotta gnocchi for Carl? He's been asking for it," Henry requested.
Carl, my grandson, had been staying with his mother, Lily Paige, at their house. His request meant they would be coming over soon.
But I hung up without saying a word.
I opened my Twitter account and saw a picture Gordon had recently posted.
In the picture, he still appeared stoic and dashingly handsome, despite his elderly years.
Gordon was an esteemed literature professor, while Karen was a literary critic. They often discussed various works of literature together.
In the photo, Gordon was all smiles, a rare sight given his usual seriousness.
Meanwhile, Henry, who had never done any house chores, was trimming the leaves of a tall tree in Karen's yard, sweating profusely. It was something he would never have done for me, as he always claimed to be afraid of heights.
I felt another dagger stab into my heart, and the pain in my back was so intense that I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing.
I couldn't help but reflect on how laughable my life had been all those years.
I would wake up at 5:00 a.m. every morning to prepare breakfast for my family.
After breakfast, I would rush to clean the dishes before taking Carl to school, as both Henry and Lily had to work.
After grocery shopping, I would return home to make the beds, do the laundry, and prepare lunch.
Once lunch was ready, it was time to pick Carl up from school.
Carl, being the picky eater he was, would only eat certain dishes like my rainbow ricotta gnocchi, grilled eggplants, and tomato pasta with shrimp.
Preparing those dishes was time-consuming, so sometimes I’d ask Gordon to help pick Carl up from school. But he'd always give me a look of disdain, saying I was interrupting his work.
Despite my best efforts and years of service to my family without a single complaint, I now faced this profound betrayal.
The pain was so deep that I began to wonder if I had ever truly been needed in that family.
Then, a sudden realization hit me—I could no longer waste my time on them.
-
I needed to start treating myself better, so I went to the mall to shop for new clothes.
On the way back, I even stopped at a restaurant for a meal.
For 40 years, most of my time had been spent in the kitchen because I wanted my family to eat healthily and save money. I only allowed myself free time for special events.
But that was over. I swore I would never spend the rest of my life in the kitchen again.
When I got home, I spent the rest of the evening watching reels on my phone until the sky turned dark.
It was then that I heard Gordon return home.
The smile from his tweet had vanished, and the glasses on his face only made him appear more distant.
Truth be told, I was slightly frightened by his cold and arrogant demeanor, something I had mentioned to him when we first got married.
At that time, he had replied that he was bad at expressing himself, but he loved me with all his heart.
Yet, after seeing his tweet, I felt an overwhelming disgust for the hypocrite.
Gordon was massaging his temples when he said, "The booze is making me feel sick. Go make me some green tea."
In the past, I would have immediately complied with his request. But things were different now…
"Didn't you hear me? I said go fetch me a cup of green tea!" he demanded.
Previously, I would have subconsciously grown nervous whenever I saw him becoming impatient.
Yet, I felt strangely calm that day…
"I'm busy. Go make your own tea," I shot back.
Gordon was taken aback by my response, as it was the very first time I had refused to do his bidding.
His face darkened as he asked, "What's the matter with you? I also heard that you hung up on Henry today.
"We thought we would let you have a day off and decided to eat out. Yet, this is the thanks we're getting?"
Just as I was about to reply, Henry, Lily, and Carl came home…
Henry first blamed me for hanging up on him, while Carl felt dejected when he discovered that I hadn't made him any rainbow ricotta gnocchi.
"Grandma, where's my rainbow ricotta gnocchi? I want my rainbow ricotta gnocchi!" Carl complained.
"I didn't make any," I responded.
Instantly, Carl began to cry, and Lily held him in her arms to soothe him.
In disbelief, Henry stood before me, scowling. "Have you gone mad, Mom? You hung up on me and haven't made any gnocchi for Carl… What have you been doing at home all day today?"
His tone was not that of someone speaking to his mother but rather that of someone addressing a nanny.
Calmly, I looked at him and asked, "You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"
A wave of shock swept across his face as he looked away.
"You'd tell me you're afraid of heights because you didn't want to trim the trees for me, yet you'd do the same for her?" I questioned.
"Her?" Henry hurriedly interrupted. "Aunt Karen's a weak lady, so it's only natural for me to help her, isn't it? Plus, isn't she your best friend?"
I silently stared at Henry, the son for whom I had nearly sacrificed my life to give birth.
I recalled how much he had cried when I didn't have enough milk to breastfeed him and how he refused to drink any milk powder.
It wasn't until I was able to squeeze out whatever little milk I could that his cries turned to laughter.
At that time, I would look at his laughing face and pinch his chubby cheek, admiring how cute he was.
In the past, he would stick so close to me that his first words were "Mama".
In fact, he would even insist on sleeping with me despite being in elementary school. He tended to say he would stay with me and love me forever when I told him he was a grown-up and needed to sleep on his own.
Yet, that was a promise he couldn't keep.
Instead, he treated me like a nanny, hurling harsh words about my lack of education and criticizing me for not even graduating from elementary school.
In contrast, his father had the ability to pave his future, while Karen's presence in his life made him feel special.
In response, I said, "From this day forth, you're no longer my son."
Henry merely looked at me with disdain, as if I were some madwoman.
Gordon, who had remained silent the entire time, scowled. "What in the world are you thinking? Why would you ruin such a happy mood like that?"
Calmly, I looked at him and continued. "And you, Gordon, are no longer my husband."
With a frown, Gordon asked, "What did you say?"
"I'm fed up with you. I want a divorce!" I demanded.
Gordon's eyes flared as he coldly replied, "A divorce? At our age?! What a load of nonsense!"
Lily grabbed my hand in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Calm down, Mom… Has Dad done something wrong?"
Henry angrily interjected, "What could Dad have possibly done wrong? I'm sure she's just itching for an argument because she has nothing better to do.
"You'd best apologize to Dad right now. And I'd never agree to you getting a divorce…"
Henry kept blabbering until I could no longer hold it in and yelled, "Who are you to decide whether I get a divorce or not?!"
