As I read, though, I became increasingly distraught: bothered and frustrated. The entire book focuses on Tessa's marriage as her husband, a prominent pediatric plastic surgeon in Boston, has an affair with a patients mother, a single lawyer. At the climax, Nick confesses to Tessa about the affair, which she had already suspected on her own, and she throws him out of the house, not even allowing him to spend Christmas with their two young children.
The message seems to be summed up in two passages near the end of the book:
"I look from one parent to the other, unsure if I feel better or worse, but thoroughly perplexed as to their overarching point. Are they implying that I somehow contributed to this mess? That Nick had an affair because he's not happy? That marriage is more how you manage a catastrophe than commitment and trust? Or are they simply caught up in their own bizarre feel-good moment?
My father must sense my confusion because he says, 'Look, Tess. Your mother and I are just trying to impart some sort of the wisdom we collected the hard way. We're just trying to tell you that sometimes it's not about the affair --'" (Giffin, Heart of the Matter, 343)
Which furthers the earlier mentioned idea that you don't have an affair unless you're unhappy. You don't cheat ON the person you're in love with.
and:
"'I know. And I'll [promise] again. I'll do it every day. I'll do whatever it takes. Just give me one more chance."
One more chance.
Words that my mother heard, more than once. Words that women debate. Whether you can forgive and whether you should trust. I think of all the judgment from society, friends, and family, the overwhelming consensus seeming to be that you should not grant someone who betrayed you a second chance. That you should do everything you can to keep the knife out of your back, and to protect your heart and pride. Cowards give second chances. Fools give second chances. And I am no coward, no fool." (Giffin, Heart of the Matter 367-368)
And as the book closes on the same page, we see that her husband is coming back home and that she does want to forgive him eventually. But...
Maybe I'm naive. Innocent. Unjaded by the world. But, I find it hard to get behind the belief that all men are cheaters. Maybe I'm too idealistic.
I mean, cheating is in our faces everywhere these days. Tiger Woods and Jesse James have helped make infidelity a daily topic in our media. And since they have publicists, they get to blame it on sex addiction while their wives scramble to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives in front of the world. And in the eyes of our media, every man has the ability to cheat.
I am not idealistic about many things. My father is whole different kind of creature and has taught me well that things are not always as they seem. I just can't seem to let go of the idea that men are not all together bad.
Yet, history proves itself again and again. King David committed adultery with Bathsheba. Thomas Jefferson is said to have fathered children by one of his slaves, who was, clearly, not his wife. President Kennedy is reported to have had an affair with Marilyn Monroe. President Clinton went for Monica Lewinski. The list goes on...
Are all men prone to wander?
I know a girl whose father had an affair when she was in elementary school. He left the family but her mom refused to let that be the end and followed him until their relationship had been mended. To this day, this girl is disgusted by any woman who would have a relationship with a married man.
Is it always the other woman's fault?
Times are shifting. It's so much easier for men (and women) to get away with infidelity. It's so much more excusable in our society than it has ever been in the past. With 50%+ of marriages ending in divorce, why shouldn't it be? Divorce is no longer taboo and so neither is the cause of divorce. Let's all air our dirty laundry -- maybe we'll get a reality show deal.
I finished the book on Saturday morning and I've been letting it simmer for a while. I've calmed down a bit from my anger, but I just don't get it.
I guess that it is more shame on me than anything. That very first book of hers that I bought on a whim was all about cheating. The characters ended up together and in the sequel we learn that everyone ends up happy and with the one that they should be with so -- no harm, no foul. In the third book, unrelated to the first two, the couple technically divorces after they can't agree on whether or not to have a child, yet their relationships with other people still feel like cheating because they truly do only love each other. In the fourth book, again, unrelated to the others, cheating is, again, something included in the plot. So I suppose I should have known, should have suspected. But I didn't.
My mom's perspectives have changed a lot over the last decade. She's now in a great committed relationship, but, I don't think she feels any longer that the ideal relationship exists. It strikes me as so funny, sometimes, knowing that my example of marriage has been the same as hers. I always looked past my parent's marriage to my grandparents. They've been married for 53 years this June. Though I don't know all of the ins and outs of their relationship from day one, I know that some how, they made it work. And yet, my mom has been hurt, had her ideals shot down and been trampled on. The ideal no longer exists in her world.
I have a friend who is fine with her husband/boyfriend/significant other going to a strip club as long as he comes to her first. If she tells him no, then he is fine to do as he pleases. And I feel like she's not the only one.
What has our world come to that we operate under the notion that all men are cheaters?
I am fortunate that I have a husband that I trust 100%. The thought has never crossed my mind to not have faith in him. And I know that he truly is my soul-mate. My perfect match. I guess I'm one of the few. Or at least that's the impression I got from reading this book.
It makes me sad more than anything, I think. It makes me sad to think that what is broadcast in our movies, on our TV shows, in our literature is a message that you truly are out for yourself. In the world you have no one -- you're just passing through -- looking out for yourself. It makes me sad to know that my kids will have an even tougher time proving their integrity. I am sad that it's something that we can't get back. Most of all, I am sad that it could even for a second make me question my marriage and wonder "is it just a matter of time?"
This song seemed fitting:
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