The voice of a woman inquired with a serious texture. Not like the stern and deliberate cadence of a bill collector, more like a concerned family member.
Firmly, I replied, “Yes, who’s calling?”
“How do you know my husband?”
I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn’t move anymore. The mental exhaustion that I was experiencing had amplified to the ninth degree in a matter of seconds.
“Who is your husband and who are you?” I replied.
“My name is Cassandra Rubin. My husband is Eric Rubin.”
The name didn’t ring a bell right away but I kept listening.
“I saw your number in his phone, and in the last month, he has called you numerous times. I also heard a voicemail from you recently. You left him a birthday message. How do you know him?”
I heard the frustration and pain in her voice escalating. The woman had a dozen questions for me to answer and I felt compelled to answer each one of them. I was a wife before, so I understood the pain and confusion she was feeling. I wanted to share every detail with her; it felt like the right thing to do. She confirmed that this wasn’t the first time she had to make this type of phone call and that he had cheated many times before. It was completely out of my jurisdiction to judge her choice of staying with him. I’d been in that boat before, as well. I know that walking away isn’t the easiest thing to do, especially when you think you’re in love and you can’t live without that person. It’s the woman’s decision to stay or leave. Sadly, the longer you stay, the more of your soul you lose.
Cassandra told me all about their children; the same boys that Eric said lived in another country and was mothered by a woman he spent a very short time of his life with. She wanted to know if we slept together and the last time we saw each other. Thankfully, there wasn’t much to tell her. After she got into detail, I realized who her husband was. He didn’t go by Eric Rubin.
He told me a totally different name, and when I told her the name, she said that it was his nickname from college. I had only known her husband for one month and we went on one lunch date. A mutual friend introduced me to him at a charity event. He never wore a ring and no one in his circle ever spoke of a wife. He worked in New York City but traveled a lot, so it’s fair to say that he was living two lives.
During our very first conversation, I asked him if he had a girlfriend. He said no and that he’s just very focused on his business. Why wouldn’t I believe him? I had no right to think of him as a liar. Now I wonder if this is where the “benefit of the doubt” theory makes women look naive and simple. I couldn’t believe that I had been lied to, that I had been made a pawn on someone else’s chessboard—now a corner in a love triangle. This woman was crying her heart out to me, she wanted details about my relationship with her husband and I gave them all to her.
Before hanging up the phone, I assured Cassandra that nothing else happened and promised her I would never accept his phone calls again. I told her about my recent divorce and hoped that she understood and trusted my compassion towards her. Only twenty minutes after we hung up, her husband conveniently called me. I didn’t answer but of course he left a message apologizing and trying to assure me that his wife was crazy.
Women lie. Men lie. The truth doesn’t. Morals, ethics and respect are almost non-existent. How do we evolve when everyone is selfishly concerned with his or her own feelings and wants? What would you have done in this situation? Think about it and be truthful with yourself.