My marriage was with Brittany. She was the one who had made promises to me, and she was the one who had broken them. I barely slept that night. Brittany called several times, but I didnât answer. She also sent messages asking me to come back to the hotel so we could talk.
I ignored those as well. There was nothing she could say at 2:00 in the morning that would change what I had seen. The following morning, I got up early and made coffee. I had barely taken a few sips when my phone rang. This time, it was a number I didn't recognize, but I answered.
It was Brittany. "Theodore, please donât hang up." "What do you want?" "I need to talk to you." I've been trying to reach you, but you won't answer my calls. "I donât have anything to discuss with you right now." "Can you at least let me explain?" I looked at the kitchen counter and took another sip of coffee. "You had plenty of opportunities to explain yourself before I found you in that hotel room." She started crying. "I know how it looked." "Donât what?
Donât tell me how it looked." I was standing right there. I saw you kissing him and I saw you go into that room with him. There was a long silence. Then she said, "I made a terrible mistake." "Thatâs something youâll have to live with." I ended the call and searched for a divorce attorney in Denver. After reading through several profiles, I contacted a lawyer named Jonathan Pierce.
His office called me back shortly afterward, and we arranged a consultation for that morning. Jonathan was direct and professional. During our meeting, I explained how long Brittany and I had been married, what had happened the previous evening, and what I wanted to do. He listened without interrupting. "Have you discussed separation with your wife?" he asked.
"I told her our marriage was over. I havenât discussed anything beyond that." All right. Before making any major financial decisions, we'll review your situation. I also recommend that you keep records of relevant conversations and avoid confrontations. "Thatâs fine.
Iâm not interested in fighting with her. I want to get the divorce process started." He explained the next steps, including reviewing our finances, property, and shared obligations. He also told me not to empty joint accounts, hide money, or make sudden decisions that could complicate the proceedings. I appreciated the straightforward advice. By the time I left his office, I had a clear idea of what needed to happen next.
I gathered copies of our financial statements, mortgage documents, insurance information, and other important records. I also arranged for Jonathanâs office to prepare the necessary paperwork. When I returned home that afternoon, Brittanyâs car was parked in the driveway. She was waiting in the living room. As soon as I walked through the door, she stood up.
"Where have you been?" "Meeting with an attorney." Her face changed. "You actually did that?" "Yes." "Theodore, youâre seriously going to divorce me over one night?" I placed my keys on the table and looked directly at her. "One night? You lied about where you were going, kissed another man, and checked into a hotel with him." Don't reduce it to one night just because that's easier for you to admit. She started crying again, but I wasn't going to let her tears distract me from what had happened.
I want a divorce, Brittany. I've already made that decision. She stared at me as though she had expected everything except that answer. For the first time, she seemed to understand that I wasn't threatening her or trying to teach her a lesson. I was actually leaving the marriage.
For the next few days, Brittany made several attempts to change my mind. At first, she took the apologetic approach. She told me she regretted what had happened, that she had been confused, and that she hadn't thought about the consequences of her actions. She also insisted that the man meant nothing to her. I listened without interrupting, but I wasn't interested in debating the value of their relationship.
Whether he meant something to her or not didn't change what she had done. On Sunday morning, she approached me while I was making breakfast. "Can we please sit down and talk like two people who have been married for six years?" "We can talk. I just donât see what there is left to discuss." "Thatâs exactly what I mean. Youâre acting like Iâm a stranger." "You made that decision when you brought another man into a hotel room." She looked away and wiped her eyes.
"I know I hurt you, Theodore. I know I did something terrible, but our marriage wasnât perfect either." I put my coffee down. "What does that have to do with what you did?" "We had problems. You know that." We barely spent time together anymore. You were always busy with work, and when I tried to talk to you, you weren't really listening.
"If you were unhappy, you could have told me." "I did tell you several times." I shook my head. You complained about me working late a few times. We discussed it and I made changes. That doesn't explain why you decided to start seeing someone else. She crossed her arms.
You make it sound like everything was fine and I just woke up one day and ruined it. I'm not saying our marriage was perfect. I'm saying you had choices. You could have talked to me, asked for counseling, or even told me you wanted to separate. Instead, you lied about where you were going.
For a moment, she didn't respond. Then her expression hardened. "So thatâs it? Six years together, and youâre throwing everything away because of one mistake?" I almost laughed. "One mistake?" "Yes, one mistake.
I wasnât planning to leave you. I wasnât trying to destroy our marriage." "You didnât have to plan it. You still went through with it." She accused me of being cold and said I was refusing to consider everything we had built together. I reminded her that I wasn't the person who had decided to risk our marriage for someone else. The conversation ended when she walked upstairs.
I thought that would be the end of it for the day, but later that afternoon, I received a call from Derek Sullivan, a mutual friend we had known for years. He and his wife had attended our wedding, and we had spent plenty of weekends together. "Hey, Theodore, you got a minute?" "Whatâs up?" I wanted to ask you about what's going on with you and Brittany. I leaned back in my chair. What have you heard?
"She called my wife yesterday. Apparently, things have gotten pretty bad between you two." I already knew where this was going. "Did she mention why?" "She said you followed her one night, confronted her in a hotel, and started threatening people." She made it sound like you lost control and scared her. I stayed quiet for a moment. "Did she tell you why I was at that hotel?" There was a pause.
"She said she was meeting someone." "She was there with another man. I watched them kiss outside a restaurant." Then I followed their car and saw them check into the hotel together. Derek didn't say anything. I knocked on their room door. I continued.