A husband for two families

When I came to this site, I just wanted to read the stories, but after reading a couple of confessions, I decided to write one myself. The thing is, an event happened in my life (of course, I’m thankful in many ways for what happened). Get to the point, as they say.

12 years ago my student friend, decided to get married, we lived with her after graduation in different parts of the country, communicated infrequently and over the phone, but, nevertheless, we were joined by a strong friendship since our student days. Anyway, I accepted her invitation to the wedding and went. Preparations, worries, the bride was rushing back and forth like an awl, everyone was getting ready. Two days before the wedding Anya decided to introduce me to the groom and his friends. We agreed to meet at a cafe.

When we got out of the cab, it was like a hammer on the head: there was my prince, or rather the one I had been looking for. He was tall, pumped up, with blue eyes. I stood there, unable to move. And then I heard “my Dima” through my amorous reverie. Whoa! What Dima? I woke up, Anya was standing with my dream boyfriend, and they were hugging each other tenderly. It turned out to be Anna’s fiancé.

When we got out of the cab, it was like a hammer on the head: there was my prince, or rather the one I had been looking for. He was tall, pumped up, with blue eyes. I stood there, unable to move. And then I heard “my Dima” through my amorous reverie. Whoa! What Dima? I woke up, Anya was standing with my dream boyfriend, and they were hugging each other tenderly. It turned out to be Anna’s fiancé.

All evening I kept my eyes on him and so did he. Then everyone went bowling, and on the way Anya got a call from the seamstress (she was sewing the dress) asking her to come pick up the dress. She left in a hurry, and Dima and I decided to walk.

We wandered the streets of the evening city and were silent. Yes, silent, because there was no point in saying anything-we knew that we had met very late. Then he suggested we go to another cafe near the hotel. We were sitting, drinking coffee and just looking at each other, and then Dima couldn’t take it anymore and said: “Now I know what my destiny looks like, but unfortunately, I found out very late.” Dima kissed my palms gently, and I said: “Let’s get a hotel room.” Yes, I know I shouldn’t have said that, but I did.

We spent that night together. In the morning we agreed that no one would know about that night, Dima agreed. Then he said that he didn’t want to break up with me and that he would think of something. We agreed that it would be our little secret.

The wedding died down, we had fun and I went home. Of course, I couldn’t stop thinking about Dima, and sometimes I thought, “My God, I’m 27, and I’m in love like a girl. And in whom – in the husband of a friend!

He called a month later and said he had an idea. He got a job hauling cargo (metal) across the country, and since he had served in the paratroopers, they took him on as a security guard with no problem. To clarify, there is a steel mill in my town where these shipments come in. And so it began that Dima was with me steadily for a week every 2 months. At first we rented an apartment, but then Dima brought the money and we bought a studio apartment. He brought gifts (expensive gold jewelry and empty trinkets). When he was at my place, he called me his wife. So our romance lasted for 6 years, Dima and I had a good time, we even went to the sea a couple of times. He was doing well with Anya too, except for one thing they didn’t have – children. Doctors said that the problem was in Dima, it was also my problem, because I was already 34 years old, and I also wanted to be a mother. Since I had no one except Dima, I decided at all costs to have a baby with him. Somewhere deep down I hoped that when I get pregnant he will leave Anya and leave me. To my suggestion of a possible pregnancy he just grinned and said: If you want, you can get pregnant with someone else, you can’t do it with me.

Secretly from Dima I took all the tests, consulted the doctor, took a course of hormonal drugs, and since Dima was 100% sure that he was infertile, he almost did not use contraception and as a result after a year of hard work – a pregnancy. I was over the moon, I didn’t tell my Dima over the phone, I was waiting for him to come. He came, but instead of enthusiastic shouts of “hurray” he called me a fool. Asked why I did not suit him? And what is he better than him? I told him the whole truth, he brushed me off and left. Gone forever from my life.

I was hurt and scared. It’s been 6 years now, I have a daughter who looks like two peas in a pod like Dima (Daddy), but she doesn’t know him. For her daddy is her godfather, she doesn’t know any other daddy. Dima and Anya went to Israel five years ago for permanent residence. A year ago Anya and I corresponded in social networks, they live well, only there are still no children. After Anja wrote to Dima, he said that I had a beautiful girl, and I wrote that she was his own daughter and that the problem was more with Anja than with him. He wrote that my attempts to tie him down with someone else’s child were useless.

Anya called me that night, saying that she had seen the correspondence and knew that it was Dima’s baby and that the problem was really with her, that she couldn’t give birth because of an early abortion. She said that if Dima found out, he would leave and that it was up to me.

It’s been a year now. Of course, I thought about writing to Dima right away, and then I couldn’t. No one would be happier if I told the truth, because each of us has something dear to us: Anya has Dima, and I have a part of Dima, Sofiyka. That’s how contradictions tear me apart.