Anonymous writers share the most painful part of their marriage: the moment they knew their relationship was over.

The moment our marriage was over: 'I had to tell him that I loved someone else'

I wasn’t given the chance to sit my husband down and explain why I was leaving. I didn’t have the opportunity to provide clarity, which is what he deserved.

Instead it was a sloppy mess and one of the worst days of my life. He found five weeks’ worth of lurid text messages and pages upon pages of emails about my affair, detailing all the lies I had told. He had to see how many times I said “I love you” and read about the future my lover and I were planning together. I blindsided him and all I could do in that moment was backpedal to try and make the situation easier to digest. Instead, I dug myself deeper into a hole as I attempted to cover my tracks.

What surprised me about that night and the following days was that he fought for me. He fought hard, but I had already made up my mind, and never really gave him a chance to try. After six amazing years together – full of memories, love and respect – it was over in the blink of an eye.

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We fell in love at 22, got engaged at 25 and were married at 26. For someone who didn’t have much relationship experience before we met, I was very confident in what we had.

Like most young married couples, we had big plans, and we encouraged each other to work hard so we could make it all happen. Traveling the world, having kids, buying a house – the usual. So when we both got new jobs in September 2015, we thought we were getting towards our goals. More money, more opportunities: the perfect next step for our second year of marriage.

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The moment my marriage was over: 'What if he hadn’t read my email?'

I didn’t know when I walked into that big new office building to start the next phase of my life that it would be the beginning of the end of my marriage. The cube behind me was empty for my first week, and I didn’t have time to think much of it.

That following Monday, there he was. Handsome, Spanish and with a cute accent. Despite the initial attraction, I left it at that. We were both married, he was eight years older and much more senior than me.

Things changed 264 days later.

I offered him a ride home after a long day of offsite meetings, and he asked me out for a drink before I dropped him off. I’m sure it can be assumed by now that I said yes, and with a beer in each of our hands he leaned over the table and kissed me for the first time.

I felt guilty when I got home and got into bed with my husband, who was sound asleep, but at the same time I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened and how nervous and excited I was to start the next day.

From there, things moved so quickly. We took advantage of every moment we could together, sneaking around, tweaking stories, lying to our spouses. That part sucked, but I kept convincing myself that this little adventure of mine would blow over and things would go back to normal. I thought I’d snap out of it.

I didn’t snap out of it. I couldn’t, and frankly I got to the point where I didn’t want to; it was terrifying and I was losing control.

We said I love you after less than three weeks. This was no longer a situation that I could walk away from; it wasn’t going to blow over. I came to the point where I realized I had to decide between him and my husband. I had to stop being afraid and admit to myself that I was more afraid of losing him.

With that admission I knew that I had to tell the love of my life – the most important person to me, the person who would have given me everything – that I loved someone else.