Reprinted: My wife and I's story, I'll tell you slowly (4~6)

Thank you for your comments. I will continue to share with you. Chapters 4-6:
Out of respect for the original author, I will always credit the author ^_^
"My Story with My Wife, I'll Tell You Slowly"
Author: Jing Huayuan
Word Count: 65880 words
(Part 4)
Walking alone in the neighborhood, I felt completely empty, as if I were walking on cotton. Occasionally, I would run into acquaintances who greeted me, and I would just nod blankly. I sat down alone on a stone bench in the corner of the neighborhood. The stone bench was icy cold on a summer morning, but I couldn't feel it anymore. At this moment, only one question kept popping into my mind: What should I do?
Perhaps it was related to the coldness of the stone bench, because soon I felt myself trembling. But my mind slowly calmed down, and I began to think about the following questions:
1. What should I do? Should I expose him? It would be easy to expose him. Even if my wife didn't admit it, I could just check the phone records at the telecommunications bureau to find out who the man was. But what good would it do to expose him? The only result would be that we would tear each other apart and shatter the last bit of warmth. Once a deeply cherished lover, now a stranger, even an enemy.
Second, should I pretend I know nothing and slowly try to figure something out? But the thought of my beloved wife entangled naked with another man gave me a terrible headache. Thinking about it, I even had murderous urges.
After the stone bench was littered with my cigarette butts, I began to fully sober up.
I started to recall the women I had been involved with over the years. Most of them had lovely children, warm homes, and husbands who deeply loved them.
So, when I was with them in bed, why did I never think about their husbands' feelings? The ancients said, "Do not do to others what you would not have them do to you." I asked myself, those women, each one was a good woman, a qualified mother, a virtuous wife.
On another level, when I was with them, although I had no intention of desecrating them, I still loved my own wife in my heart; similarly, when they were with me, they still loved their own husbands. Even if the passion between husband and wife has faded, the blood ties and affection they share with their husbands are irreplaceable.
So, for me, is there any other woman in this world who can replace my wife? The answer is no. Although my wife has definitely cheated on me, that's beyond doubt, compared to my own absurdity, what does her behavior amount to?
Therefore, the most important thing I should do, and the only thing I can do, is to make amends, not to cause further damage. Otherwise, the harm will be permanent.
Thinking about the date my wife mentioned on the phone just now, my vision blurred again. So I quickly made two decisions: first, pretend I know nothing; second, I must stop this date; I can't let her go further down this path. With that thought, I
ran to the flower shop across the street and bought my wife a bouquet of pink roses.
This is only the second time I've bought flowers for my wife; the first time was before we got married when I was pursuing her. Years have passed in the blink of an eye; it all feels like a lifetime ago.
I returned home with the flowers. My wife had already finished washing up and was cooking in the kitchen. Looking at the flowers in my hand, she was surprised and asked, "Didn't you give them to her? Isn't your lover home?"
—I don't even remember when it started, but we often spoke to each other in this sarcastic tone.
A wave of sadness washed over me. I went to my wife, hugged her tightly, and buried my face in her chest.
My wife noticed my unusual behavior and asked, "What's wrong?"
By then, tears were streaming down my face. I tried to hide it by saying, "Nothing, I just saw an elderly couple walking together, and it suddenly made me think about how difficult life is..."
My wife had never seen me cry like this before and was a little flustered. She patted my shoulder and said, "Don't think about it, honey. Go watch some TV, breakfast will be ready soon."
At breakfast, I had no appetite and just stared blankly at my wife.
My wife was once again bewildered by my reaction and asked, "What's wrong? Why did you come back looking like a delicate flower after going out for a walk this morning?"
I didn't answer, but simply reached out and gently stroked her face.
After breakfast, I sat on the sofa watching TV as if nothing had happened, observing what my wife would do next.
A little while later, she asked me, "Aren't you going out today?"
I said, "Nowhere, I'm staying home with my wife."
Then, my heart pounded, and I asked her, "Is something wrong?"
My wife hesitated for a moment and said, "Something came up at work… but it's not urgent, we can take care of it on Monday."
I said, "Then stay home, or I can go shopping with you…"
Around noon, I made an excuse to buy cigarettes and went out. I thought my wife might need an opportunity and time to make a phone call…
(V)
That weekend, my wife didn't go to her date. In the afternoon, I took her to KFC. Before this, I had always hated junk food, but to make her happy, I pretended to like it and went with her.
Afterwards, I couldn't resist secretly checking her phone bill. I didn't find any clues, but that didn't mean anything—because back then, cell phones were rare, and even a basic pager with Chinese display cost over two thousand yuan. I also couldn't check my wife's pager.
All I could do was go home on time every day, spend as much time as possible with my wife, and give her more care and attention. While doing these things, I endured indescribable torment. Scenes of her having sex with another man kept flashing through my mind, and I often dreamed about them, each scene seemingly unfolding before my eyes.
I made excuses to go to her office several times (by then, she had been promoted to a minor department head), but there were five people in her office, and I couldn't confirm if that man was one of them.
Actually, who he was didn't matter; it was just that the curiosity, anger, and humiliation kept surging within me, making it impossible for me to extricate myself.
But all I could do was fulfill my responsibilities, or rather, make up for what I hadn't done well before. For my wife, this was a form of compensation, but for me, it was a deserved punishment.
The initiative had been handed over to my wife. During that time, I basically cut off contact with my lover. When I faced him, I felt no interest whatsoever, and there was even a vague resentment, as if she was the cause of it all.
During that time, whenever I had sex with my wife, I would often experience inexplicable urges that I couldn't control, as if I were competing with someone else.
At the time, I hadn't read any rational articles about dating or group sex, and even if I had, I couldn't accept those seemingly unconventional methods.
I only occasionally searched online for some psychological counseling articles about my wife's infidelity, but later I found that reading many of the so-called experts' pretentious writings only made me more depressed, so it was better not to read them at all.
Some say time is the best healer, and that's very true. After my persistent efforts, my wife finally started communicating with me more often, and we rediscovered the feeling we had back then.
We both enjoy drinking beer. Once, we drank ten bottles of beer at home, still not satisfied, so we went out for barbecue late at night, drinking and chatting about everything under the sun, including our children and our future plans.
However, I always adhered to one principle: I never mentioned her infidelity. Several times, she clearly intended to confess, but I pretended not to care and deflected the question. Looking back now,
I realize it was because I was cowardly; I couldn't resolve this inner conflict myself. So I chose to avoid the topic, trying to forget it and leave the problem to time. Seeking common ground while respecting differences is definitely a good approach. After weathering this storm, our relationship underwent a qualitative change: beyond being husband and wife, we were more like close friends. Harmony increased, arguments decreased, and our hearts drew closer.
And many times, I even felt a deep, heartfelt love for her, like she were my own daughter.
After some time, when I felt the time was right, I confessed to her about my first affair with a female classmate, and other experiences (God forgive my reservations, because I had gone too far and I was afraid she couldn't accept it. Also, I felt that if I showed her all these wounds without reservation, given that I already knew my mistakes, she might not be able to handle the heavy psychological impact. In
a way , this might be a kind of white lie, because there's a premise: I truly realized my mistakes). Actually, she already knew many of my things before I confessed, but she didn't expose me for the sake of her family and children.
She also voluntarily told me about her only extramarital affair. She spoke calmly, and I listened calmly: it turned out the man was a major client of their bank, a very considerate man with a happy family. During the time I neglected my wife, he got closer to her.
According to my wife, during her relationship with that man, she was constantly tormented by emotions and conscience. She initially accepted him largely out of revenge against me, and secondarily out of emotional and physical desire. But after the affair, she discovered things were far more complex.
The affair stemmed from her husband's betrayal, and afterwards, she felt a pang of self-reproach—a painful self-inflicted wound. After that unfortunate Sunday, my wife ecstatically accepted my change, and things underwent a qualitative shift: since then, she sensed I might know something, but I never brought up these sensitive matters, for which she was extremely grateful.
Furthermore, my constant care and consideration for her led her to voluntarily end her ambiguous relationship with that man, transforming them from lovers into normal, ordinary friends. Later, I also became friends with that man—but that's another story.
In retrospect, through the process of saving our marriage and love, I also saved both her and me.
(VI)
As time passed, our lives seemed to return to normal. For the next two or three years, I didn't touch any woman other than my wife; the lesson from before was too profound.
However, there was a very troubling problem: that scene from years ago hadn't faded with time; instead, it had become clearer. This inner turmoil continued to plague me. Many couples, in the heat of the moment, like to say inappropriate things, which is a normal behavior that can increase excitement and pleasure.
Later, I often asked my wife this when she was close to orgasm: "Is it as comfortable with your lover as it is with me?"
At first, my wife, still somewhat dazed, remained wary and said, "No, he's not as good as you."
While thrusting vigorously, I gritted my teeth and said, "Tomorrow I'll find a hundred men to tie you up and play with you!"
My wife was completely overwhelmed, repeatedly cheering, and finally, we both reached orgasm simultaneously.
Later, I frequently changed my tactics. For example, when my wife was excited, I would mention her favorite male celebrity: "Honey, you're having sex with Chow Yun-fat right now."
She would nod excitedly, and then I would ask, "Want to do it with other men?"
She would obediently answer, "Yes, but my husband is still the best..."
So, sometimes I would pretend to be her boss, sometimes her classmate, and sometimes even a stranger.
Every time I did this, the quality of our sex was surprisingly good. But when the passion faded, if I asked her, "What did you just say?"
she would definitely deny it outright: "I didn't say anything, you're such a pervert."
Sometimes I would think to myself that I might actually be a bit perverted. But if this perversion could bring harmonious marital happiness, then it couldn't be considered perverted.
Although I knew the result was good, at the time I couldn't explain why it was good, or what made it good. And, deep down, I still had an unresolved knot in my heart—I still felt that I was a bit perverted.
To clarify: I had told my wife all these doubts without reservation, without any concealment.
My wife, however, was dismissive, always saying, "I think you're just bored, your mind is full of nonsense. You're torturing yourself."
It wasn't until a few years ago, when I started reading articles about multiple partners or partner swapping, and combining that with my own experiences, that I began to rationally and honestly analyze myself. And ultimately, it was the respected Li Yinhe who helped me resolve my inner conflict.
After reading extensively on her sociology and ethics, my inner turmoil was completely resolved. At the very least, I know: I am a normal person.
I don't know if this is human nature, or perhaps I am someone with this nature and potential.

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Reprinted: My wife and I's story, I'll tell you slowly (4~6)

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