Page 121 of The Widower
Strange as it sounds, I found out about my wife’s affair with my best friend completely by accident.
I was walking through the mall—something I rarely did—and spotted Kurt heading toward a store. I picked up my pace, planning to greet him and talk for a bit. I wanted to open up about my marriage falling apart—because who better to talk to than your best friend, right?
We’d been distant that month, but I blamed work. I was certain it wasn’t his fault. I just needed his advice—to figure out how my marriage had sunk so low.
But fate—if that’s even the right word—decided to intervene. About twenty yards away, I saw Jeniffer walking toward Kurt. At first, I thought nothing of it—they were close friends, too. But then things changed, and it all clicked in under five minutes.
Hand in hand.
His fingers brushing through her hair. His thumb on her cheek.
A kiss on the forehead. I didn’t need more than that to understand exactly what was happening.
But the final blow—the one that shattered whatever denial I had left—was the passionate kiss that followed.
I rarely froze in the face of anything.But that day... I did.
And honestly? Maybe it was for the best that I saw it.
I didn’t know how to react to such a double betrayal. I’d been made a fool of. Twice.
Betrayal by a friend is still betrayal. Period.
For a week, I kept it all to myself—replayed that scene over and over, until it became a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
And that’s when everything began to fall apart.
That’s when I made the choices that ruined my life.
Whether I like it or not...I was indirectly responsible for my daughter’s death.
For Jeniffer’s death.
“I loved Jeniffer with everything I had. You have to understand…”
“You betrayed my trust!”I slammed my fist on the table. “You killed her—and my daughter! I’ll never forgive you!”
Yes. He was the one who caused their deaths.
When I say I was indirectly responsible, I mean that something I did set the whole damn thing in motion.
My anger had consumed me to the point where I refused to go through with the divorce, dragging it out for months. It wasn’t because I wanted to stay with Jeniffer—God, no. That wasn’t it.
I didn’t throw what I’d seen in her face during those months. I was afraid that if I started talking, I’d lose control… maybe even strangle her. In the end, though, I told her why I wouldn’t sign the divorce papers—and I’ll never forget the look on her face when she realized I knew about the affair.
“That thing with the car... it was a mistake. Something I regret every single day of my life,” he stammered before breaking down in tears.
No, I didn’t feel sorry for him. Not for a second. Part of me wished he were suffering more. Death would’ve been too easy—living means he gets to hurt, and deep down, that’s exactly what I wanted for him.
To sum it up? They both planned to kill me.
That’s why Kurt’s in prison, serving life.
The problem is, because of my wife’s breakdown that day, she’s the one who died—and she took a piece of me with her when Maddison got caught in it.
Jeniffer and I had gotten into an ugly fight that day. Like I said before, I’d refused the divorce at first. But things had gotten so bad—so toxic for the kids—that I finally started to reconsider. I was ready to let go… until Jeniffer dragged our children into the argument. That, I couldn’t accept.
She hadn’t been the most present mother, but the kids were deeply attached to her—and I never saw that as a bad thing. She always tried to make up for her absence, splitting herself between work and motherhood just to be there for Joshua and Maddison.
