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My wife and I have been married for 26 years and, honestly, every day has been a blessing. She’s clever, fun and sexy and has been a great wife and incredible mother.

Several of my friends have told me on various occasions that she is “the perfect wife.” And truly, she is … but they would never believe what she put me through before we were engaged.

After nearly three years of dating, our relationship hit a lull. I think she was getting tired of waiting for a ring and I was just happy with the status quo. That’s when she hit me with a lightning bolt, seemingly out of nowhere.

After a coed volleyball game, our team went to a bar for a few drinks. At about 11 p.m., I told my future wife that I was ready to leave because I had to work in the morning. She kissed me and said that she was having fun, wanted to stay with the group and would catch a ride to her rental house with a friend.

I should have listened to my gut. I was catching vibes that there seemed to be some kind of “chemistry” between my wife and another guy on our team that I didn’t know. But I convinced myself that it was all in my head — she had been an exemplary girlfriend and never gave me any reason not to trust her.

When I woke up early the next morning, that suspicion from the night before was stronger. So on my way to work, I drove by her house and there it was: The guy from our team’s car was parked along the street. I quickly parked and went to her front door, knocked and knocked before she finally answered. When she opened the door, I could tell by the look on her face what had happened: He had spent the night.

I didn’t even wait for an explanation. I just stormed off and went to work and powered through the day. I was numb — the girl I had planned to marry had completely betrayed me.

Long story short, she begged for forgiveness. Supposedly, they had only kissed (yah, right) and she wanted things to be just as they were before. Although I was incredibly hurt, I was also very much in love and knew that I wouldn’t ever be able to do better. I held out for a couple of days, but eventually caved and we reconciled with incredible sex. She brought her “A game” and while normally very concerned about getting pregnant, she wanted nothing to do with a condom that night and insisted that I finish inside her. That, too, made me suspicious … but I wanted to believe it was because she was going all-out to get me back.

Fast forward to six months later. Although my pride was still injured, things between my wife and I were great. Then one night, she was at another bar with “the girls” and was planning to come to my apartment. Uncharacteristically, she was more than an hour late and hadn’t called. This was the mid-90s, before everyone had cell phones.

Suddenly, that gut feeling that something was amiss returned. I drove to the bar and as I pulled into a parking stall, my headlights caught a couple kissing in front of a car — his car. Sure enough, there was my girlfriend — the one who cried and begged for forgiveness — kissing the same guy she had cheated with before. Stunned again, I watched for a moment. The two of them were kissing with a passion that I had never experienced with her. If I hadn’t gotten out of my car and confronted them, it looked like there was a very good chance that he would soon be fucking my girlfriend, standing up against his car.

I ran him off and he followed me back to my vehicle. After I finished my rant of how I couldn’t believe she had cheated — AGAIN — she repeated her apology script from six months earlier. But this time, she admitted that she was incredibly attracted to him in an almost animalistic way and couldn’t help herself when he was around him. I hurt, but it was obviously true.

Eventually, we worked through it, got engaged three months later and were married six months after that. Since that day, she has seldom caused me a moment of grief.

But even after all these years together, what she did still impacts me and left me with so many questions. How many times did it really happen and how far did it really go? As replay the scene in my mind — remembering the way she kissed him — I think I already know.

What do you think happened?

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