The Spaces In Between

Part One: The Quiet Undoing

As I approach the story of my final extramarital affair, it’s impossible to skip over the spaces in between that brought me there. Life was in flux—a move to a new city, letting go of the family franchise, and grappling with the uncertainty of what came next. At the start of 2009, I thought I had the blueprint: a divorce, a fresh start, and maybe Max somewhere in the picture. But none of it panned out. Instead, I found myself in a holding pattern, trying to piece together a life I wasn’t necessarily wanting to rebuild with my husband.

Following the move in August 2009, I became the self-declared queen of my “Dungeon of Resentment,” ruling over a kingdom of bitterness and discontent. I was furious—at life, at my husband, and, in quieter moments, at myself. While I remained enamored with my kids, I was completely at odds with who I had become. Each day felt like a shuffle through the endless grind of motherhood and homemaking, with depression lurking just beneath the surface. Money, as always, was tight—scraping by on my husband’s student loan made “barely making ends meet” sound optimistic. With all three kids finally in school, it became painfully clear: I needed to find a job.