John and I dated for only six months before he popped the question. Just a few months before we began dating, my previous boyfriend of five years, Tayloe, and I had broken up. My relationship with John was a rebound, and it should have stayed just that. Instead, at age 21, I walked down the aisle the same year Princess Diana and Prince Charles married, wearing my mother’s satin wedding dress with a long train trailing behind me.
Days later, we packed up a U-Haul and drove from Mississippi to Montana to finish our college education.
During our first Christmas together, John bought himself a new pair of downhill skis. He presented his old pair to me with a big bow tied around them. I excused myself and fled to the bathroom to cry. Not only was his re-gifting hurtful, but I still missed my old boyfriend and the way we had given each other thoughtful gifts and spent the holidays with either his family or mine. That was the first sign that our marriage was not a good one.
Courtesy of Frances Scott
John did make one dream come true: He bought us a cabin at the foot of a mountain. It was 30 minutes from town, and since we only had one car, I was often alone at night while he worked at a restaurant. Loneliness crept in while he was at work and making friends.
It wasn’t long before I began to suspect that John was being unfaithful. My suspicions were confirmed when I phoned a waitress from the restaurant late one night.
“Is John there?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied and handed him the receiver.
I was sure my inadequacies had caused my husband to step outside our relationship for other women’s company.
This was not the fairy tale I so wanted to believe in. His affairs put an end to our two-year marriage. I felt inferior, disheartened and confused. I wanted to die, and tried to.
Not long after our divorce, John began dating Wendy. He and I…
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