I’d be feeling a little sweet on her and bring home flowers. She’d spend days accusing me of doing it to assuage my guilt for having an affair (when? I had no time not with her that I wasn’t at or to and from work).
After multiple tries I stopped getting her flowers.
Several months later she wailed that I never brought her flowers anymore!
“He knows he’s wrong. He even got me flowers. Can you believe that? Like it will make up for everything. If he’d only be nice to me, maybe I’d feel like working out again. Maybe I’d feel like cooking dinner. Did you see there’s cake in the conference room? You better hurry up and get some. It’s almost gone.”
I never met you. You were so demonized day after day, she’d never let you meet us. She was afraid you wouldn’t come across as the prick she described.
Not.Your.Fault. (You evil woman hating man.)