Brings back vivid memories, actually. I still remember things she said, anyway. Ten years after the fact. It went like:
"It was so sweet, to lie in his arms after we made love. We talked about the place we'd have together once he was divorced."
"He loves you but isn't in love with you."
"If it wasn't for you getting pregnant, he never would've married you."
"Why don't you just get a divorce so he can be happy?"
Actually, there were very few real details of my marriage with him. Nothing of the arguments we'd had, places we'd gone, moments we'd shared. The single glaring mention of the fact we had children was that I'd been pregnant when we said our vows, as well as my capability to take care of our kids "after" he'd divorced me. The letter was, in fact, my means of discovery, it's how I finally understood what had really happened.
That knowing is something I will never be sorry for, SC. I am beyond gratified I really did know I was betrayed. Understanding was what freed me to make proactive motions towards change, one way or another, motions that helped in my healing rather than furthering my pain, confusion, and frustration. All that, and I will always abhor the sheer ugly manipulative disrespect the OW's letter demonstrated, because it showed more clearly than anything that, to her, I wasn't real. I was A THING, to be shoved aside, forced away; I wasn't real, my feelings didn't matter, my hopes were unimportant, my dreams didn't count, not to her. I was made out to be little more than an impediment.
Ultimately, though, the fact she had to use such a desperate measure as my knowing to entice him back proved several very valuable understandings to me:
(1) She wasn't as certain of his feelings and care as she tried to declare to me, so how certain were they really.
(2) She was utterly unimportant, had not an iota of control, over whether or not my marriage succeeded or failed; it was always ours to chart the course of.
(3) She saw me as something of a threat to be attacked and minimalized; she was scared of the bonds I shared with him, enough she had to try and destroy them.
(4) She was pathetic in her desperation, and I felt sorry for her.
In the end, I am still his wife, he is still my husband, and our marriage ten years later is everything I ever hoped for; I'm blissfully happy today. I say that as he looks over at me and grins that silly grin of his, the one that says he's glad simply to see me, here. Life is good, I'm okay.
Love 
