Angela Mollard: Affairs | news.com.au Australias leading news site

Posted by Artie Phelan on Wednesday, May 22, 2024

WHEN a friend’s husband reveals his deceit, Angela is torn

A year or so ago, the husband of one of my dearest friends told me he was having an affair. He was in town on business and popped over to have dinner with my husband and me. Midway through the crab linguine, he put down his fork and calmly announced: "Look, I should probably tell you that I’ve been cheating on Anna [not her real name] since Christmas."

To be honest, I’d heard whispers about him, and he probably suspected I knew. But why, oh why, did he have to confirm it?

My own husband chose that moment to busy himself replenishing drinks, leaving me to figure out what to say to that kind of news. "Oh, really? How lovely. And how do you juggle that?"

Instead, I asked him if Anna knew. She didn’t, and he went on to explain how he loved his wife and there was no way he’d ever leave her, but their marriage had become – and this was his word – ‘boring’.

I should have raged at him, challenged him, thrown him out of the house, but I could barely look at him, let alone speak. I can debate the small stuff – Abbott vs Gillard; schooling; climate change – with anyone who lingers more than a minute at my kitchen bench but, in unburdening himself, my friend’s husband had effectively shifted his load onto me.

For months afterwards, I agonised. Should I tell Anna or would I trigger the breakdown of her family? What if she suspected her husband’s infidelity, but was choosing to ignore it in her determination to preserve her marriage? What if I told her but – forgive me my selfishness – it ruined our friendship? Perhaps I could threaten her husband that if he didn’t end the affair, I’d tell her.

In the end, I did nothing. Even though I like to think I’d want to know any and every bit of information that could affect my own marriage and family, I couldn’t presume the same of Anna. Perhaps she’d be like Victoria Beckham or Gordon Ramsay’s wife, Tana, and prefer silence and dignity.

I’m still not sure why her husband chose to reveal his infidelity, but I don’t believe life always benefits from full disclosure. We live in such a confessional age, we’ve forgotten the value of secrets. I’m not talking about lies – that’s another matter – but the things you hold deeply within yourself that, in days gone by, would go with you to your grave.

Sometimes people ‘share’ to unburden themselves, to assuage the guilt, but often the greatest punishment is simply to live with your wrongdoing. Nobody else needs to be the barometer of your contrition and regret except you. So live with it and learn from it.

As for my friend, fortunately we no longer live in the same city. We did catch up at a park not long after her husband’s revelation, but our children truncated any attempts at meaningful conversation. When she told me her husband was working long hours and seemed to be having a mid-life crisis – the sports car and a renewed interest in fitness – I blinked away tears behind my sunglasses.

Did she know? Did she want to talk about it? The words were on the tip of my tongue, but then her daughter fell off the swing.

As we left, she suggested a weekend away for our two families. I said it sounded great, but I still haven’t called her to plan it.

Even now, I don’t know what her husband could have gained from telling me. But I do know what I lost – my friend.

Catch Angela Mollard on Weekend Today, Sundays at 7am on the Nine Network.
Email angelamollard@sundaymagazine.com.au.


 

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