‘I fell in love with another man while on vacation with my family’

“Come, give me your suitcase.” At the sweltering Greek airport where we had just landed, I dragged my three-year-old daughter and a heavy holiday suitcase to the bus that would take us to the resort. My husband was walking ten meters in front of us, he was smoking and checking his iPhone. Without waiting for my answer, the unknown fellow traveler grabbed the handle of my suitcase. He pointed to my twenty-week-old belly: “You’re carrying enough already, don’t you think?”

‘What a stunner’

He wore a disfigured shirt in pastel shades. Two toddler boys hobbled next to him. In their wake a woman in screaming designer clothes. What a jerk, I thought, but he’s nice. “I’m fine,” I smiled. “But it would be nice.” I gave him my luggage.

“Who was that?” my husband asked suspiciously once we were on the bus.
“No idea,” I said. “I just hope the whole resort isn’t filled with raunchy people.”
I wasn’t quite sure what I meant by that either, but the man in his disfigured, pastel-colored shirt confirmed the image I had of such a place: people who were far too brown and loudly assaulting the all you can eat and drink.

Resort

Actually, I didn’t want to go to such a resort at all, but my husband loves luxury. It seemed like a dream vacation to him. I had been sick and tired of my pregnancy for months, so when he showed me pictures of the Kids Club and a swimming pool with spacious sunbeds, I reluctantly agreed. With my pregnant belly and an adventurous toddler, it was difficult for me to make a rough journey through a jungle.

It took exactly five minutes for the pastel man’s youngest offspring to find my daughter on the bus. I spent the rest of the one and a half hour drive with two kids, ages three and four, chatting. When a golf cart pulled up at our resort to take us to our residence, the pastel man also got in with his family. “There you have it”, I hissed to my husband. “I’m not going to socialize here, I come for my rest.”

Unfortunately, when we moved to dinner that night, they were seated at our table in no time. “I just ran into your husband at the fries,” the woman twittered. “He suggested we eat together. Cozy right?” I nodded politely, feigned a grin, and cast a revealing glance at my husband. I felt two feet kick gently in my stomach.

On the edge of the wading pool

The next morning, my daughter and the pastel man’s sons, who turned out to be Jaap, found each other by the pool before I could lay down my towel. My husband had gone back to our cottage after breakfast; I would watch our daughter. I was looking forward to a book on the edge of the wading pool, but before I could read a letter, Jack put a towel on the bed next to me without being asked. “Are you the scarf too?” he laughed, pointing to our splashing children in the water. “Of course we never get to a book like this.” With a dramatic gesture, he tossed his novel—which topped my must-read list—to the side and jumped up. “I’m getting drinks: fancy a spa with mint? I’ll leave the rum for you.”

Everything in his demeanor pointed to a slick suitor, but oddly enough, it soon didn’t feel that way. The naturalness with which he approached me felt familiar and involved. hot. In the twelve hours that I knew him, I felt more seen by him than by my own husband in ten years.

Inseparable

For the rest of the ten days in our walled summer paradise, our families were inseparable. The children didn’t leave each other’s side, Jaap and I couldn’t stop talking. We had the same humor, loved the same books and music, the same food and the same sports. My husband, in turn, went to Jaap’s wife, she was just as fond of luxury and lounging as he was. While they devoured cocktail after cocktail on a lounge bed by the bar, Jaap and I played with the kids in the pool. We had the vacation of our lives.

It was as if we had known each other for a hundred years, as naturally as we drew together. One sun-drenched holiday day after another followed. We all went sailing together, rented a car to explore the island, drank cocktails on the beach until late in the evening while the children fell asleep under pool towels. I hadn’t felt so free and relaxed in ages.

‘Stupid Pregnancy Hormones’

The day our bus left for the airport, I couldn’t hold back my tears. Jaap and his family had booked four more days and waved us off at the gate of the resort. “Idiot that I have to cry like that”, I laughed at my husband. “Those stupid pregnancy hormones.” The crying didn’t stop. Not that day of departure, and not the following days either. I wanted to go back to Jaap and his wife. I missed hanging out with the four of us, our kids playing together. My husband had the same.

“It’s crazy,” he said, “it almost looks like a crush. As you often do when you make a new friendship and wonder how the hell you ever did without that person in your life.” The feeling was mutual, and when everyone was back home, we arranged to meet for dinner as soon as possible. That evening was just as wonderful as our holiday. We lived only twenty miles apart and in no time spent nearly half the weekends together: as soon as we left together, I was already looking forward to the next meeting.

The girl in love

Our second daughter was born and our lives rippled on. The following summer we planned a long trip, Jaap and his wife had agreed to go on holiday with old friends. My marriage had some cracks. I had plenty of time to think about that now that I had glued my parental leave to maternity leave. Slowly, the realization dawned that the girl who once fell in love with the man she now had children with had long since passed away.

As an insecure student, I craved someone to take care of me; he wanted a girlfriend who would conform to him. A perfect match at the time, but now I was a grown woman with children and a career. My husband, in turn, struggled with a woman who practically no longer needed him, and did not understand my urge for self-fulfillment. I wanted to talk, he recoiled. He turned out to have secrets and we went to couples therapy. There I realized more clearly during each session that our marriage had no chance of success; even the psychologist agreed.

Meanwhile, Jaap’s marriage did not run smoothly. The quarrels between him and his wife escalated to such an extent that their sons became completely upset. We naively planned a holiday together. Our long journey had been hard for me with a small baby, their holiday with those friends had not been a great success either.

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Parting

We booked a holiday villa in Croatia. And that’s where it all went wrong. We hadn’t been there for two hours when Jaap’s wife tore away with squeaky tires. She didn’t come back for the rest of the evening. The tension was to cut. In the presence of the children we were able to keep the atmosphere light. They played in the pool, we read books and had a drink. My husband walked around grumpy most of the time – he’d been doing that since our youngest was born. I couldn’t get in touch with him. When he went to bed at night, I stayed with Jaap trees about love, relationships and work. His wife disappeared every night when the children were in bed to a nearby town.

That holiday put an end to his marriage for Jaap. And the scales fell from my eyes: I was in love with Jaap. Still, I wanted to save my marriage. A crush can happen to anyone, I thought it would pass. However, the last couples therapy sessions my husband and I took after that vacation showed just how big the gap between us was. We ended up breaking up as friends, as far as possible in a divorce. He continued to live in our house, I found an apartment nearby and started a new life with my children.

The friendship with Jaap’s wife faded, my ex and they kept in touch. Jaap and I spoke at most once every two months. As much as I supported my divorce, the failure of my marriage made me deeply sad for the children. The dinners with Jaap confused me: I was choking on love, while I was also struggling with my divorce. Jaap showed nothing of any feeling for me. I decided I should forget him. That was perhaps even harder than my divorce.

A new love

I had been away from my husband for a year when Jaap called. We agreed on a weekend when neither of us had the kids. It turned out to be a picnic, in our backpack a bottle of wine and tasty snacks. Finally Jaap dared to express his feelings. He had been in love with me since that very first meeting at the Greek airport, he said. That was three years ago, now our lives offered room for a new love. He wanted to know if he had a chance with me. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. When we started kissing, my world changed. That night I stayed with him.

We have been together for three years now and are very happy. The fact that the children were already close friends made it easy. His ex is single again after the umpteenth relationship attempt. My husband turned out to be having an affair with the woman he now lives with during our marriage. Both exes have never made a fuss about Jaap and me. For now I will continue to live in my apartment. I don’t want to do it to my daughters to switch schools. It’s fine this way. Our time will come.”

This article was previously published in Kek Mama.