My Husband Said He Was Driving to His Childhood Friend’s Funeral – But Then I Found Him Behind Our Country House, Dousing Something in Gasoline

I trusted my spouse when he told me he was going to a friend’s funeral from his youth. But when I visited our country home later that day, I made a terrifying find. My spouse was holding a can of gasoline when I spotted him standing behind the shed. I regret seeing what he was attempting to set on fire.

It only takes one moment for a twenty-one-year marriage to end. I never imagined that I would experience it. Alice is my name. My age is forty-six. And everything I thought about my life was altered last Saturday.

When I was twenty-five, Jordan and I met at a small bookstore downtown. He was looking through the section on cooking. My stack of recipe books fell all over the place.

He responded, “Let me help you with those,” and knelt next to me.

That that afternoon, we had coffee. I laughed till my sides ached from him. We spoke nonstop for three hours.

We got married in a modest church wedding a year later. My mom shed tears of joy. The most exquisite toast was made by his father. That was such a lovely start.

Together, we created something tangible. We are fortunate to have two amazing children who are now adults. Oregon is where Amy resides. Michael and his girlfriend relocated to Texas last year.

Every evening, Buddy, our golden retriever, still welcomes us at the entrance. We use our back deck for Sunday cookouts. Christmas mornings are enchanting.

I believed that our love was the kind that endures forever. Not the kind of love in a passionate movie. But something substantial. dependable. You know, and safe.

Jordan then returned home last month, looking worn out and depressed.

A frightened “I need to drive upstate this weekend,” he remarked.

“What for?” I put down my coffee mug and asked.

“The funeral for Eddie. Do you recall that I brought him up in high school?

I gave a headshake. “I don’t think you ever talked about an Eddie.”

Jordan moved around in his seat. “We only communicated online. We’ve been buddies since childhood. He had cancer.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Do you want me to accompany you for support?

“No.” He answered too quickly. You didn’t know him, after all. It would be uncomfortable. I prefer to think about this by myself.

There was something strange about his tone. But I didn’t want to bother him while he was grieving.

“All right. When are you going to return?

“Sunday night. I’ll just grab my car and pack a few necessities.”

It was dark and raining on Saturday morning. Jordan gave me a cheek kiss and walked away. It appeared that his suitcase was hardly packed.

From the porch, I called, “Drive carefully.”

He said, “Sure,” as he began to pull out of the driveway.

Without him, the house felt empty. I made the decision to come to our country house that afternoon since it was too quiet.

Five years ago, we purchased the small property for weekend retreats. These days, we mostly keep additional canning materials and gardening tools there.

Without him, the house felt empty. I made the decision to come to our country house that afternoon since it was too quiet.

Five years ago, we purchased the small property for weekend retreats. These days, we mostly keep additional canning materials and gardening tools there.

Jordan parked his vehicle close to the tool shed. Dusty, but definitely his. The rear bumper has the same dent from the previous winter.

My hands on the steering wheel began to shake.

“What the hell?” I said to myself in a whisper.

I sat there looking at his automobile for two whole minutes. The possibilities rushed through my thoughts. And they were all illogical. At last, I exited and headed toward the house.

“Jordan?” I called through the screen door. “Jordan, are you here?”

Quiet.

The house was deserted. He was nowhere to be seen inside. The kitchen counter did not contain his keys.

I circled back to the garden area and sheds. That’s when I noticed him… and froze.

Jordan stood in the clearing behind the tool shed. He was pouring gasoline over something on the ground.

I was hit hard by the stench. Chemical and sharp. My nostrils were scorched.

His expression was aloof and expressionless. It was as if he were sleepwalking through a bad dream.

“JORDAN? Why on earth are you doing this?

He jerked as if I had given him a slap. He lost his grip on the gas container.

“ALICE? What are you? God, oh God! You have no business being here.

“You shouldn’t either! You are expected to attend a funeral. “What on earth is happening?”

Panic widened his eyes. To keep me from seeing what he had been dousing, he took a sideways stride.

“Yes, I am. Well, I was. “It isn’t anything,” he stumbled. “I stopped here on the way back.”

“Where did you come from? The time is just three o’clock.

“The service adjourned early. All I had to do was burn some weeds. It ticks a lot back here. Alice, please stay away. You are aware of the fire threat.

Jordan fumbled for the matchbox in his pocket. His hands were shaking violently.

“Avoid it! Get out of there immediately!” I yelled.

However, he had already hit the match. For one dreadful second, the flame flashed between his fingertips.

Then he let it fall.

With a powerful whoosh, fire burst across the earth. Three feet high, orange flames jumped. A blast of heat hit my face.

“Are you insane?” I ran toward the fire and screamed.

Jordan took hold of my arm. “Avoid it! It’s risky! Remain back!”

I used both hands to push him away. He staggered back and almost fell.

The fire was already extinguishing. I could also see what he had been attempting to ruin.

pictures. There are hundreds of them. They were like fallen leaves, strewn all over the charred ground.

I fell to my knees next to the burning heap. Around the corners of some of the photos, there was still fire.

I could see plenty, though. More than sufficient.

I had never seen Jordan in a suit like this before. A dark-haired woman wearing a wedding gown stood behind him. They were both grinning and striking the same rehearsed pose you see in wedding photos.

Jordan’s gray eyes were on a baby boy in his arms. The woman at his side was beaming with joy.

There were additional images. Jordan pushing a young boy on a swing set was one of them. The same kid. Three years old, perhaps. Scenes from a living room I didn’t recognize on Christmas morning. birthday celebrations. trips to the beach. portraits of families.

All of them include my hubby. with a different female. And a second kid.

It seemed like someone was using their bare hands to crush my chest.

“No,” I muttered. “No, no, no.”

I frantically patted out the remaining flames with my jacket. The heat burned through to my palms. I didn’t care.

Jordan stood frozen behind me. He wasn’t helping. He didn’t care to explain. He was merely watching me save parts of his private life.

I sat back on my heels as the final spark extinguished. It destroyed my jacket. My hands were red and hurting. But the actual anguish lay heavy in my chest, colder than the ashes in front of me.

“There was no funeral,” I responded, avoiding eye contact.

“Alice…”

“There was no Eddie.”

“Please let me explain.”

I gently turned around. Jordan had a chalk-pale face. His cheeks were wet with tears.

“How long?”

As if his legs had failed him, he collapsed onto a fallen log.

“Nine years. Camille is her name. was Camille.

“Was?”

Two weeks ago, she passed away. vehicle collision. They were struck head-on by an intoxicated truck driver.

“Them?”

“Tommy and her. Our son. He was eight years old.

I gazed at him. My husband’s face was being worn by this stranger. Additionally, he talked about his other family as if I should comprehend.

“You had another wife.”

“I’m not married. However, absolutely. An additional life.

“For nine years.”

“I didn’t intend for it to occur. Meetings were all that existed at first. Then she became pregnant.

“And you kept them both secret from me.”

Jordan gave a pitiful nod. “Two hours north is where they lived. Every month, I went there. I told you that I was going to see my brother.

“Your brother lives in California.”

“I understand. I apologize. Every detail has to be a falsehood.

Nine years of lies made my mind reel backward. Those weekend excursions. lengthy business meetings. Late evenings at work. It had all been false.

“Did you love her?” Before I could stop it, the query escaped.

Jordan felt his shoulders tremble. “Yes. I cherished her. I also adore you. I am aware that it seems unfeasible.

“It sounds sick.”

“I kept the two lives apart. and tidy. I took care, so you never suspected.”

“Careful.” I gave a sour laugh. “Is that what you call destroying two families?”

“I ruined a family. Camille and Tommy have left.

New tears streamed down his cheeks. His sorrow appeared genuine and unfiltered. I became even more irate.

“So you came here to burn the evidence?”

“I was no longer able to save their photos. It hurt too much. However, I was also unable to just discard them.

“You could’ve told me the truth.”

“And lose everything? You? Our children?”

“Jordan, you’ve already lost everything. You simply aren’t aware of it yet.”

We took different cars home. Being in the same room as him was intolerable to me.

The whole time, my hands trembled on the steering wheel. I kept seeing those pictures. Jordan had love for another woman on his face.

I sat on the steps of our front porch at home. Like an animal in a cage, Jordan paced the driveway.

Then he said, “What happens now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you leaving me?”

I glanced up at him. My husband of twenty-one years. My children’s father. Every Sunday morning, he brought me coffee in bed.

“I don’t know.”

“Alice, you are still loved. Above all. I am aware that I am unworthy of pardon.

“You’re correct. You don’t.

However, I need you. I can’t let you go either. Not after they’ve been lost.

My stomach turned at what he said. As if I were some sort of comforting gift following the death of his “other” family.

“Don’t talk about them right now.”

“I must sorrow for them. For nine years, they were a part of my life.

“What about Jordan and me then? How about our children? What is our current position in your life?

I retreated as he took a seat on the step beneath me, getting close enough to touch me.

“How do I fix this?”

“I don’t think you can.”

“There must be a method. Together, we’ve created too much to discard.”

I considered our kids. They would be crushed. They were mistaken about their paternity. I considered dividing the holidays. dividing up assets. Telling friends why, after twenty years, we were divorcing.

When I eventually said, “I need time,”

“How much time?”

“I’m not sure. Forever, perhaps. Until I can look at you without remembering those photos, perhaps.

Jordan gave a slow nod. “I’ll use the guest room to sleep. Give yourself some room to consider.

“Good.”

He got up and moved in the direction of the house. He turned back at the door.

“Alice? I am aware that apologizing is insufficient. However, I apologize. I’m more guilty than you’ll ever realize.

I saw him go inside. Suddenly, it seemed as though someone else lived in our house.

To be honest, I haven’t made a decision yet. I want to forgive him sometimes. There are other days when I want to destroy everything we’ve created together.

Perhaps love can withstand this kind of treachery. Perhaps it can’t.

I’m still figuring out what kind of lady I want to be at the moment. the person who stays and makes an effort to start over. Or the person who, after 21 years of being someone else’s second choice, suddenly prioritizes herself.

When the time is right, I guess we’ll both find out together.