This excerpt is taken from the chapter titled “Marital Bliss” in When It’s All Her Fault

October is my favorite time of year in Texas. The oppressive heat of summer is withdrawing, and it is usually a happy time for our family, but not this year. After twenty-nine hard years, things were worse than usual in our marriage. I had not seen Janet in almost a month although we were living under the same roof. She left early in the morning and often did not come home until after I had gone to bed at night. She was making huge changes. She was losing weight. Now, nothing ever seemed to ruffle her feathers. When we had a conflict, she never became upset. She simply said her peace and walked away. She said she was “breaking cycles” that had been present in her life for years. She said that she had to minimize her time with me because “I was not safe” and “she was not strong enough yet,” whatever that meant. I had never hit Janet in any way, or even been aggressive toward her, so I was not sure what this “safe” thing was about. If anything, she was the aggressor, and I was the victim.

If it had been any woman other than Janet, I would have suspected an affair. But this was Janet, and it would be going completely against her character to be putting on such a charade. Still, I was growing increasingly defensive and fearful. I verbally lashed out at the simplest of things because I was always on edge. I reacted as if she were attacking me when all she was doing was stating the facts. The less she reacted the more obvious it became that I was the one creating the problems this time. If this was not an affair, what was it, and when would things get back to normal?

I just thought Janet was going through some kind of phase, and like all phases there is a rocky period before the real breakthroughs come. This too shall pass, I would say to myself. I knew I had not done anything to cause her behavior. I tried to keep smiling and let her know that I loved her.

Strangely, during this same month I had my own major breakthrough where God revealed to me how my life was driven in many places by fear. I thought Janet would be ecstatic. But instead of having a positive effect, it drove us further apart.

As time passed our arguments became more frequent as I felt more threatened by the changes Janet was making in her life. After one major argument, Janet asked me to leave. She said that she had consulted with some”professionals,” and they told her that as I started to work through my “issues” I could become violent.

This was totally preposterous! The most violent that I had become in nearly thirty years of marriage was when I slammed down a bowl of cereal in our kitchen a number of years before. I believed she was saying one thing, but that I was being manipulated for some other means. What that could be, I was not sure.

Janet wanted me to write a note stating that I agreed to leave if a professional said that she might not be safe as I processed through my issues. This really angered me, and at first I refused. Finally, I wrote the note clearly stating that I did not see any reason to leave, and I headed for a shower. As I went down the hall, I heard Janet say that she would have an answer from a professional by the time I finished. That fast? It felt like a complete set-up.

As I came out, I heard her on the phone. She had called a domestic violence hotline number for the county. I was in a lose-lose situation. If I stayed, she could say that I did not care about her safety. If I left it would justify her fears. I ultimately complied for her peace of mind and because I could not stand the emotional tension. I found it hard to take a breath, and it felt like someone was literally ripping me in half. I hurriedly packed a bag and left, cursing Janet all the way to my truck. What the hell did she think she was doing? What gave her the right to destroy me and our lives this way?

As I was leaving Janet assured me that this was not headed toward divorce. It was just time away to get some healing. I held onto those words like a man hanging off a cliff, holding on to the only branch in sight. There was one thing we both agreed on; our marriage was dead. Whatever our future held it could look nothing like the past.

I checked into a Motel 6 for the night. I was hurt and angry. How could the woman that I had loved for nearly thirty years, the one I had cared for, sacrificed for, treat me in such a way? Maybe it was an affair. I was devastated. My whole life seemed to be coming to an end. I felt like a puppet with Janet holding my emotional strings. If she wanted me happy, she could ask me to come home. If she wanted me unhappy, she could keep up her game forever. What would tomorrow bring? Would it be better or worse? What would I tell our children? How much should I tell them? I did not know.

I called Janet later that night and tried to talk to her, but the conversation ended badly. At this point she cut off all communication. She refused to answer my calls, phone texts or emails. I still did not think this had much to do with me. I was sure she just needed time to work things through. I continued to cling to her words, “This is not divorce.”

I was spent. I turned off the light and tried to go to sleep. About this time a couple next door decided to start having noisy sex half the night. I remember thinking, This is just great! I’ve just been kicked out of my own home, and I get to listen to this! I pressed the pillow over my head and tried to sleep. Eventually, exhaustion overtook me, and I drifted into a fitful sleep.

The next day I wrote the following entry in my journal.

My conclusions: I don’t think that this has much to do with me. I don’t think Janet likes herself very much (her never-ending self-improvement). She definitely does not like men in general.

I made an appointment for some help with our marriage counselor at the time. Why would the love of my life treat me this way? I was a kind and patient husband. I did not physically abuse her. I did not try to control her spending or vacations or any of the other things that I saw other husbands do with their wives. I was clearly the good guy, and Janet was the villain.

Then it happened. Three days later there was a knock on the door. I was greeted by a woman holding a plain manila envelope. I did not have a clue what was about to happen. I had moved into an extended stay hotel to save us money, and I just thought that it was the paperwork that I needed to sign for the lease. I was wrong. Janet had filed for divorce. The blood drained from my face. With a calmness of a condemned prisoner, I took the papers, asked a few questions, thanked her and sent her on her way. As I approached my desk, my knees buckled and I sat down and cried. She had lied. Janet had filed for divorce. Our family would never be the same. There was no turning back. It looked like a carefully planned and executed operation carried out with military precision. My marriage was over. There was one surprise. I did not die.

Excerpted from When It’s All Her Fault by Greg Tilford, et. al. Copyright © 2011 by FigApple Publishing. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.