I thought the two-day trip might rekindle the passion in our marriage.
As we unloaded our mountain bikes at the Dungeness River Trail, Gary assured me the strenuous ride would help us discuss things we’d been avoiding.
I assumed he’d been having an affair. He was careful though, and my suspicions were based more on his indifference toward me than anything tangible.
From the start, our ride didn’t go well. The 20-mile trail rose to 6,000 feet and its treacherous switchbacks, stream crossings, and huge exposed tree roots took their toll on Gary’s strength and my endurance.
I’d given everything to him – my devotion and inheritance. It had never been enough.
At our first campsite, weary from the day’s exertions, I put it to him directly.
“I’ve been seeing her for a year.”
When he wouldn’t meet my eyes, I knew there was more.
“This trip was about asking you for a divorce.”
I thought I’d be ready for it, but I wasn’t.
The next day, when his tire caught a root on a steep descent, propelling him to a back-breaking collision with the rocky streambed, I knew what I’d do.
“I’ll go for help,” I said. But I didn’t.
© 2006 Janet Hildreth
