Every Time His Son Comes Over, My Husband Asks Me to Disappear from My House to Please His Ex
Marilyn believed she was being understanding when she consented to leave her home each weekend so her husband could spend time with his son. However, she returned home unexpectedly after months of this arrangement and realized what was really going on.
I believed that Scott and I had a strong foundation for our six-month marriage. Before getting married, we dated for two years, during which I got to meet Ben, his six-year-old son.
With a smile that could melt ice and his father’s blond hair, the youngster was shy yet sweet. At the time, Patricia, his mother, seemed to be okay with me. During drop-offs, she would even strike up a conversation with me and inquire about my work as a high school teacher.
She had previously remarked, “You’re so good with Ben,” as she watched him demonstrate his most recent Lego construction to me. “It’s nice that he has another positive influence in his life.”
After the wedding, that amity shifted. She became less and less visible to me, and months later, Scott shocked me.
We were both occupied in the kitchen on a calm spring Tuesday night. As I prepared dinner, I gazed out the window at the beautiful rain falling outside.
He was attempting to repair a cabinet handle that had broken off the day before.
I turned my head and raised my eyebrows when he abruptly cleared his throat.
“Honey, I think it would be better if you went to your parents’ on weekends,” Scott said, continuing to stare at the cabinet.
I blinked. “I apologize. What? “Why?”
With a groan, he stood up straight and fidgeted with the handle. “Patricia no longer wants Ben near you. It will confuse him, she says. She’ll cause trouble if she discovers you’re here when Ben comes to visit. All I desire is serenity.
I put down the chopping knife and cleaned my hands with a kitchen towel.
“I don’t understand,” I said at the beginning. “I get along well with Ben. The science activities we conducted last weekend were a huge hit with him. Do you recall his excitement when we created that volcano? He gained a great deal of knowledge. He also like my cooking.
Scott brushed his hands through his salt-and-pepper hair and put the handle on the counter. “I know, I know,” he said. “It’s simply She claims that since we are now married, things are changed and she doesn’t want Ben to believe that you are also his mother.
“I’m his stepmother, so…”
“I understand. It’s absurd. However, it will only last till Patricia settles down. Would you please? When she doesn’t get what she wants, you know how she can be. She’s saying that I won’t be spending as much time with Ben.
“So your solution is to kick your wife out of her own house every weekend?” I put the kitchen towel back in its place and scowled. “Scott, this is insane.”
“Not kick out,” he said defensively. “On weekends, just take a short vacation. Go see your parents. Don’t they want to see you more?
I didn’t want to be the reason Scott missed out on time with his son, even if it felt wrong. I had to agree.
So on Friday, I packed my overnight bag and drove past the park where Scott had proposed and familiar neighborhoods to my parents’ house, which was 20 minutes away.
As soon as Mom answered the door, a worried crease appeared on her brow. “Marilyn? Why are you here? What’s happening?
I apologize for not calling earlier. I forced a smile as I entered and said, “I’m just here for the weekend.” “I thought I should spend some quality time with my favorite parents.”
She didn’t say anything, but I could sense she didn’t trust me. She asked me the truth at breakfast on Saturday morning, even though I was relieved she had let it go that evening.
I had to inform her about Scott’s request.
“Why are YOU going to leave? “It’s your house,” she declared as she frantically and angrily brushed butter on her toast. “Henry would never have asked me to leave our house when I was your age. Not for everyone.
I lied while shoving my eggs about the plate, saying, “It’s just temporary,” “Patricia is experiencing some difficulties. This is a simpler method.
“Easier for whom?” Mom spoke softly yet firmly. “Honey, something about this doesn’t feel right.”
I muttered, “I know, but can we just let it go,” and fortunately Mom gave me a nod.
However, a couple of weekends became all of them, and then months passed.
I packed my bags every Friday as if I were being forced to leave my home, which I had purchased before I had even met Scott.
We had to continue since, in his opinion, Patricia enjoyed this arrangement and it wasn’t fair. He insisted on telling me that he just loved me and that he detested his ex’s behavior.
But for Ben’s sake, we had to comply.
He always sounded so genuine, and I adored him and his son, so I really wanted to understand. However, how much more could I possibly take? I had no idea when I might snap.
Yes, that took place on a Friday. I asked myself, “Are you an idiot?” while I was only five minutes from my parents’ house. I was taking this, but why? This was not typical!
I did a risky U-turn and hauled back to my place since I could no longer defend this odd arrangement. I drove in our driveway and opened the front door with my key.
The house was too quiet, judging from the exterior, for a Friday night with a six-year-old who enjoyed watching cartoons on TV.
But as soon as I entered my living room, I understood what was really going on. Initially, Ben was not present.
Rather, I noticed Scott sitting on our couch, gently wrapping Patricia in one arm. She was dressed in my just purchased, slightly more expensive pajamas.
“What the hell is going on?” I insisted.
Scott leaped from the couch and slammed his leg into the coffee table while yelling a curse. “Marilyn! He limped over to me and said, “You’re… you’re supposed to be at your parents’.”
I didn’t give him a look. I stared at Patricia, who remained still. She was merely grinning as she rubbed her palm over the pajama shirt’s silk. “All right, all right. It appears that someone deviated from the script.
I said, “Where’s Ben?”
Patricia’s elegant response was, “At my mother’s,” with her knees crossed. “On Fridays, he’s always at my mom’s. A unique movie night is held there. Scott told you, right? With a mocking concern, she turned to face him. “Oh, darling, don’t tell me you’ve been lying to your new wife?”
The parts came together with a click. “This was never about Ben, was it?”
“Smart girl.” Patricia stood up and grinned. “I told Scott that I needed weekends to see if we could work things out if he wanted another opportunity with me. But it was his idea to send you away,” she shrugged. “He’s always been good at finding… creative solutions.”
I gave a hollow laugh. “That’s interesting because Scott told me something very different.” I took out my phone and played a recording from the previous week.
I’m not sure why I had covertly filmed it, but I was happy at the time. They weren’t going to live happily ever after, but I knew my relationship was ended.
“I love you, Marilyn,” Scott said, filling the room with his voice. Patricia is simply acting like herself. Petty and self-centered. I’m only doing this till Ben gets a little older and has a better understanding of the situation. Our lives will soon return to normal, and then we can consider starting a family of our own. My life’s love is you.”
The moment I put down my phone, Patricia’s lips twisted. Abruptly, she leaned over, picked up her slipper, and hurled it at Scott. “You are a dishonest piece of trash! You’ve been playing both sides all along? You are pitiful.
He ducked, and the slipper struck one of our mantelpiece’s porcelain decorations, knocking it over and shattering it on my floor. I didn’t give a damn. I was handed an awful object by his mother.
Patricia, however, shifted, grabbed her purse, shoved me out of the way of the front door, and left my house.
“You may keep my pajamas if you want. I am aware that you cannot afford them. I shouted, trying to be as petty as possible.
Despite her brief pause, she continued to move on without turning around. After she was out of sight, Scott followed me, frantically pleading, as I made my way upstairs to our bedroom.
Disregarding him, I collected his priceless polo shirts from his closet and tossed them out the window.
He yelled, “What are you doing?!”
I started by holding up my hand to stop him, saying, “I will scream my head off if you get any closer to me, and you know the old gossip in front will call the police.”
“Please, Marilyn,” Scott said as he took a helpless step back. I didn’t listen, though.
Then came his golf equipment, his trip luggage, his dress shoes, his collection of watches, and his pricey clothes.
The voice I used was dangerously calm. “Now, go pick that junk off my lawn and get out of my life,” I said.
“Please, listen,” he made one final attempt at pleading. “All I could think of was Ben. I was not taking sides. I was only pretending to be her.
“SHUT UP AND GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”
The neighbors must have heard the noise because it was so loud. His shoulder slumped as he gazed into my eyes one more time. Finally, he walked away.
As Scott collected his dispersed possessions, a few interested neighbors gathered on their porches to observe. He made one final turn around before he got into his car and drove off.
“Please, Marilyn. We can resolve this. His voice cracking, he demanded, “I’ll tell you everything.” “I had no intention of hurting you. All I wanted was for everyone to be happy.
I closed the front door after responding, “I don’t want to hear from you except through lawyers.”
When the adrenaline gradually left my body, I leaned my back against it and took a big breath.
My mom sent me a message on my phone, which vibrated in my pocket a minute later. The fact that I never arrived at her residence must have disturbed her.
“Is everything alright? You never arrived here.
