The Paper Trail is starting to Form

In June, Chappy lost one of his Aunts.  Min's oldest sister.  I asked him if he wanted me to go home with him to the funeral and he said no.  I didn't say anything, but I wondered if every one else knew that there was another woman or would they wonder why I didn't attend the funeral.  Would the relatives outside of the immediate family think I was inconsiderate for not attending the funeral with my husband? 

I had written to Min when I first suspected Chappy being misguided.  I reached out to the enemy asking for help. The woman who chided me on my lack of commitment.  The woman who seemed to be a very active part of our marriage, would she be able to talk to her son and bring him back on course. I really don't know what I was thinking.  In my right frame of  mind, I would never have reached out to her, but I was desperate for answers.

Chappy stayed at his parent's home when he returned for the funeral.  He never called home once.  I didn't expect him to as it was no longer a habit of his, but down the road, I discovered he was on the phone, a lot, to a woman in Tampa.  I wondered how he pulled that off, talking to her, under his mother's roof, without her knowledge. Did he go off to another room for these private conversations? Did his mom consider him to be rude and standoffish when he whispered into the phone to his mistress or did she even know.

Chappy came home filled with more anger than he had left with.  His mother had printed the emails off that I had sent her and confronted him.  I don't know exactly what she said to him, but he was angry that I had shared or "problems" with her.

"Isn't this what you've always wanted, for me to go to her with my problems and have her share her wisdom with me, guide me, enlighten me? This is what you always preached, listen to her she is a wise woman. You didn't tell me there were perimeters as to what I could talk about."

Whatever she said to him, he was not happy and he told me to leave his mother out of this, she had nothing to do with our problem. I struck a chord, she had every thing to do with our problem, but he didn't need the pressure from her, the guilt that she could apply with her words or her look. He needed to lay this all on me so  he'd remain this glowing star in her eyes. I was the crazy one, that's how he was going to sell this.

Our life went on. We still went to dinner on Fridays and to the movie.  Nothing changed except the tension in the room. We still held hands, we still cuddled in the movies and at home, but the warmth was gone, it was just an old habit, a comfort of two souls that were broken.

I spent a lot of time with new friends.  Anything to not be home when he was and he was home a lot now that he was in limbo with his job. His job didn't exist so he was waiting in the wings for Don to retire so he could replace him.

I spent a lot of time emailing friends and family.  Chappy never used the computer. He was on it most of the day and he had his laptop from work. But once he discovered I had been emailing,  he started snooping, into the email account.  I never suspected a thing as he never used the computer.

He started twisting things around, playing with my mind, giving me enough to let me know he "knew" something but twisting it so that I thought it came from a source and not my emails.  I started becoming paranoid about talking to anyone as the information he was leaking were things I had shared with his cousin's wife.  I trusted no one, until I figured it out one day and changed the password.  He wanted to know why I changed the password and I told him I didn't.  Reeling him in to see if he'd confess.  "Why would you ask if I changed the password?"

"No reason."

"Did you try to read my private emails and discovered you couldn't access the account any longer?" He didn't say a word, he just glared at me. I knew if I changed the password and he didn't  have access to my emails, the mind games would end and they did.

I needed to get away, but I did not want him to know. I sensed if he knew in advance, he'd have time to make plans himself, so I didn't tell him.  I shared with the neighbor one evening that I was going back to Indiana. Aaron knew some thing was different, he and his wife lived right next door and we had spoken many times, in fact he was the President of our homeowners association and I was the secretary.  I told him I needed to get away and wouldn't be able to attend the next HOA meeting.

A few days later, the day before I was scheduled to leave, he was outside talking with Chappy. I was watching from inside and I could see the change in Chappy's demeanor.  Some thing was lighting a match under him and he turned to come inside.

"When were you going to tell me you were going to Indiana?  I have to find out from the neighbors that you are leaving to go on a trip? Were you even going to tell me?"

"We don't share those things anymore, remember? And you of all people do  not  need to know my every movement."  I went up to the bedroom and started packing.  My plan was to leave the  next day after he left for work and not tell him where  or how long I would be gone for. But Aaron let the cat out of the bag.

I got up the next morning and packed the car. It was an eight hour drive back to Indianapolis.  It was 7:30 and he was still there.  He was always gone early.  We stood in the kitchen and he wanted to know who I was staying with.

"I don't know."  I knew my itinerary.  He just didn't need to know it.  

"I think this is good for us. Some time apart.  To think without interruption.  Let's just not  call each other this week and when you come home maybe things will be better." Was he serious?

I don't even remember all that was said, except I left crying and cried for the next eight hours.  I drove to Fishers, to the home of my former neighbors. Precious was with me and we stopped to say hello.  I walked in and I must have looked like death warmed over.  I was weak.  I hadn't eaten.  I had lost a lot of weight and I was shaking like a leaf.

Jean called my friend Patty to tell her I was in no condition to drive. I was staying at Patty's house on the east side of Indianapolis for the week. Patty drove up to Fishers and was going to drive me to her house, but I insisted I could drive.  I loaded up Precious and followed Patty to her house.

Friends.  I have so few, but those I have are dear to me.  I spent the week. I sat by the pool and I cried. I got angry.  I was sad. I felt every emotion one could experience. I was empty and numb by the end of the week and I had to drive home.  I held up the bargain.  I didn't call and neither did he.

I drove home and he wasn't there. He came in late that night, suitcase in hand. It was Sunday.  "Where  have you been?"

"I drove up to Augusta for the weekend.  I wanted to see what the area looked like, you know the golf course where they play the masters."

"I thought that was a private course.  You drove to Augusta to just drive by the course for the whole weekend?"

"Yes.  YOU went to Indiana, am I questioning you?"

Guilt and lying cause humans who are not comfortable with the two, to become defensive.  A professional liar, believes every thing they are telling you and are quick on their feet to respond to answers.  An amateur, stumbles, won't make eye contact with you,  makes mistakes, can't answer questions about the unknown and reverses the guilt on to you for questioning their word.  Chappy was an amateur.  He exposed his hand way too early in my simple conversation.

If he had left on Friday, it would have been late.  He was back Sunday, yet the suitcase, was more than a duffle bag and what he forgot to remove, was the airline ticket sticker that he'd checked his bag.  I know, because I always took care of the luggage and removed any tags.  This was not a bag he used when he flew for business.  Chappy had been on vacation. I was sure of it.

When the evidence is gathered and pieced together, he flew out of Atlanta two hours after I left on the Friday morning that we stood in the kitchen, he headed to Tampa for a week and by the looks of his company credit card statement, he had a pretty nice vacation with a woman who lived in Lutz, Florida, a suburb just north of Tampa.

Paper trails, whether they are on your personal card, phone or a business card and  business phone, can be discovered.  He thought he was hiding every thing, yet he was laying the trail that supported the diary I kept of his discrepancies.  All I had to do eventually was match them up to my notes and I had him in the palm of my hand.  Time is valuable.  If you wait patiently, time will provide.  Whether it is to heal a broken heart, forget a love from your past or to gather the information you need to smell victory, you must be patient.