For our 20th anniversary we went to the Caribbean which I had researched to find a resort that was topless (next to a nude beach as well) she would not lay in the topless area where there were plenty of people around—but she would go down the nude beach to an isolated area where we lay naked. People were walking by but no one noticed. She wouldn’t walk down the beach nude though. It was great, I was relaxed, I had seen the woman I fell in love with re-emerging on that trip. She said later that was the trip where she really fell in love with me.
Of course I had had some suspicions about her affair, there had been little things that just didn’t add up when they all jelled in my subconscious—but I didn’t say anything. But I had to know. The only way was for her to tell me. So I wrote her a long letter, explaining my suspicions—telling her that I forgave her for them if she had—but the only thing I wanted to know was the truth. With the letter I gave her a 1-carat solitaire diamond as a token of my sincerity. She later said she went down to the beach while I was taking a nap and cried like a baby. But she didn’t tell me the truth. In fact she looked me right in the face that night and told me she had not fucked anyone.
I was relieved, trashing myself for the years of worry and suspicion over nothing. I think it is called blissful ignorance. But I was a new man, my suspicions had been wrong, because she would not lie after what I had done to insure the truth from her.
Would love to hear your posts, responses, or talk to others who have gone through similar things. If you have a hotwife blog and would like to link to us that'd be kool too.