RECEIPTS OF A CHEATING WIFE? THE BOXERS, MYSPACE, AND THE TRUTH THAT SAVED A MARRIAGE

 

 

 

The boxers were on the closet floor.

Men’s boxers. With a slit in the front. Rachel had worn them to bed the night before—just boxers and a t-shirt, nothing fancy, nothing sexual. She was tired. She had work in the morning. She threw on whatever was clean and passed out.

The next day, she got up, went to work, and left the boxers right where they fell.

When Clarence came home, he found them.

His world stopped.

He knew his own underwear. He wore briefs. Always had. Never boxers. Definitely never boxers with a slit in the front.

So whose were they?

Rachel tried to explain. “I wore them. They’re mine. I put them on last night because I was hot.”

Clarence didn’t believe her. Why would his wife wear men’s boxers? Why would she lie about it? What else was she lying about?

That was the moment everything changed.

 

Here’s what you need to understand about Clarence and Rachel:

Five years together. One child. A marriage that looked fine from the outside but was rotting from the inside.

Not because of cheating. Not because of abuse. Because of suspicion.

Clarence had been accusing Rachel of infidelity for years. Small things at first. Then bigger things. The kind of accusations that make a woman feel like she’s going crazy.

The MySpace messages were the first red flag.

Rachel used MySpace to talk to her family. That’s all. But guys would send her messages—unsolicited, unwanted, the kind of messages women get just for existing online.

She told Clarence about them. Showed him. Even gave him her pass code.

“I have nothing to hide,” she said.

But one guy messaged her saying he wanted to “meet up again.”

Again.

Clarence seized on that word. “Obviously they met you the first time,” he said. “Why would he say ‘again’ if nothing happened?”

Rachel didn’t have an answer. Because she didn’t know why the guy wrote that. Because she had never met him. Because she couldn’t control what strangers typed on the internet.

But Clarence didn’t see it that way.

 

Then there was the diaper incident.

Rachel came home from a family member’s house. Her kid—their kid—sat on her lap. He had a diaper on. He went to the bathroom. It happens.

She walked inside, said hello to Clarence, and he told her she needed to take a shower.

Not because she was dirty. Because he thought something else had happened. Because his mind had already decided she was cheating, and everything she did became evidence.

“He started going off about that,” Rachel said. “Like I had done something wrong. Like I had been with somebody.”

She took the shower. Not because she agreed with him. Because she was tired of fighting.

 

The boxers were the final straw.

Clarence held them up like a prosecutor holding a murder weapon.

“These are not yours,” he said.

“They are mine.”

“You don’t wear boxers.”

“I wore them last night. To bed. Because I was hot.”

“I’ve never seen you wear boxers.”

“I was cleaning out the closet. They were old. I just threw them on.”

Clarence shook his head. “They have a slit in the front. Men’s boxers. With a slit.”

Rachel wanted to scream. “So? I can’t wear boxers? That’s what you’re accusing me of? Wearing comfortable pajamas?”

But it wasn’t about the boxers. It was never about the boxers.

It was about five years of doubt. Five years of suspicion. Five years of Clarence looking at his wife and seeing a stranger.

 

Rachel loved him.

That was the tragedy of it. She really, truly loved him.

Despite the accusations. Despite the silent treatments. Despite the way he would storm out of the house for hours whenever he got into one of his moods.

“I love him very much,” she told Steve Wilkos. “Overall, the marriage is good except for the constant accusations of cheating.”

The audience laughed. Not because it was funny. Because it was so obviously not good.

But Rachel meant it. She had been with Clarence for five years. They had a child together. She wanted another baby—his baby.

She just needed him to believe her.

 

Clarence had his own pain.

He wasn’t a bad man. He wasn’t abusive. He wasn’t cruel.

He was scared.

Scared that the woman he loved was lying to him. Scared that he had given five years of his life to someone who didn’t respect him. Scared that he was the fool, the sucker, the husband who didn’t see what everyone else saw.

“I wouldn’t feel this way if I didn’t have these things going on,” he said.

He listed the evidence:

The MySpace messages where guys said they wanted to meet her “again.”

The boxers on the closet floor—men’s boxers, not hers, not his.

The way she sometimes came home and acted different. Distant. Like she was hiding something.

Rachel had explanations for all of it. But explanations weren’t enough. He had heard her explanations. He just didn’t believe them.

 

The Steve Wilkos Show green room was tense.

Rachel sat in one corner, her hands folded in her lap, her knees bouncing. She had never been on television before. She had never imagined she would be.

But she was desperate. Desperate for Clarence to believe her. Desperate to save her marriage. Desperate to have another baby with the man she loved.

Clarence sat across from her, not speaking. He had agreed to come on the show. Agreed to take a lie detector test. Agreed to let the world know his business.

But he hadn’t agreed to trust her. Not yet.

“You ready?” a producer asked.

“Yes,” Rachel said.

Clarence just nodded.

 

Steve Wilkos didn’t waste time.

“Rachel, tell me about your relationship with Clarence.”

She told him. Everything. The MySpace messages. The diaper incident. The boxers. The constant accusations. The way Clarence would leave for hours whenever he got angry.

“Do you cheat on him?” Steve asked.

“No,” Rachel said. “I do not.”

“Ever?”

“Never.”

Steve turned to Clarence. “Do you love her?”

“Yeah, of course I love her.”

“And you have a baby with her?”

Clarence hesitated. “I don’t know right now.”

Steve’s eyebrow went up. “You don’t know?”

“Because of the doubt.”

 

The lie detector test was Rachel’s idea.

She had nothing to hide. She had already given Clarence her pass code, her phone, her explanations. None of it worked.

Maybe a machine would.

“She came here and she took a lie detector test,” Steve said. “Will that make a difference for you?”

Clarence nodded. “Definitely.”

“So if she passes, you’re going to go home and you’re going to get busy?”

The audience laughed. Clarence smiled—the first smile anyone had seen from him all day.

“Yeah,” he said.

 

Steve asked the audience to pick whose results to read first.

Clarence went first.

“In the last month, have you cheated on Rachel? You said no.”

Clarence held his breath.

“Have you ever had sexual contact with another woman while in a relationship with Rachel? You said no.”

The audience was quiet.

“Have you ever had sexual intercourse with another woman while in a relationship with Rachel? You said no.”

Steve paused. Read the results.

“The results for your lie detector test came back all the same. And they came back, Clarence, that you told the truth.”

The audience erupted. Cheering. Applause. Clarence put his hand over his heart, like he couldn’t believe it.

But Rachel wasn’t celebrating yet. Her test was next.

 

“Are you currently cheating on Clarence?” Steve asked the machine’s results.

“No,” Rachel had said.

The audience waited.

“Have you ever had sexual contact with another man while in a relationship with Clarence? You said no.”

Rachel’s hands were shaking.

“Have you ever had sexual intercourse with another man while you were in a relationship with Clarence? You said no.”

Steve looked at the paper. Then at the audience. Then at Rachel.

“She passed,” he said. “She told the truth.”

The audience went wild. Clarence stood up. Rachel stood up. They looked at each other across the stage—five years of doubt, five years of accusations, five years of love hanging in the balance.

 

Clarence walked to her.

He didn’t run. Didn’t sweep her off her feet. He just walked to his wife, took her hands, and looked her in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

Rachel was crying. Not the quiet, dignified tears she had been holding back all day. Ugly, heaving sobs that shook her whole body.

“I told you,” she said. “I told you I wasn’t cheating.”

“I know. I know now.”

Steve stepped between them—not to separate them, but to say one last thing.

“Listen, there’s a lot of times you can tell how people are talking about each other. And you really love her. I thought you were telling the truth. I certainly hope this clears it up for you, because she’s obviously very in love with you and she wants your child.”

Clarence nodded. “I want that too.”

“Now, you’re going to let us know when the good news happens, right?”

The audience laughed. Rachel smiled through her tears.

“Yes,” Clarence said. “You’ll be the first to know.”

 

After the show, Clarence and Rachel sat in a private room.

The cameras were off. The producers had left. It was just the two of them and the weight of everything they had been through.

“I was so scared,” Clarence admitted. “I thought… I thought you were going to leave me. I thought you had already left me, in your heart. I was just waiting for you to admit it.”

Rachel wiped her eyes. “I never left you. Not in my heart. Not anywhere. I have been here, every day, for five years. I have been faithful. I have been honest. I have given you everything.”

“I know. I know that now.”

“But do you? Because a lie detector test told you. Not me. I’ve been telling you for years. You didn’t believe me. You believed a machine before you believed your own wife.”

Clarence didn’t have an answer for that.

 

They went home that night.

Not holding hands. Not talking much. Just driving in silence, the way they had driven so many times before.

When they walked through the front door, the house was quiet. Their child was at a babysitter’s. They were alone.

Clarence looked at Rachel. Rachel looked at Clarence.

“So what now?” she asked.

Clarence thought about it. Really thought about it.

“Now I trust you,” he said. “Really trust you. Not because a machine told me to. Because I choose to.”

“Can you do that?”

“I have to. Because I can’t lose you. And I’ve been pushing you away for five years. I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Rachel smiled. It was small. Fragile. But it was real.

“I’m still here,” she said. “Because I love you. Because I want our family. Because I want another baby.”

Clarence pulled her into his arms.

“I want that too,” he said. “More than anything.”

 

The boxers? Rachel threw them away.

Not because they were evidence. Not because they had caused so much pain. Just because she didn’t need them anymore.

She bought new pajamas. Women’s pajamas. With no slit in the front.

Clarence saw them in the drawer one day and laughed.

“What?” Rachel asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “I just… I’m glad you’re not wearing boxers anymore.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “If I wanted to wear boxers, I would wear boxers. You don’t get to police my pajamas.”

Clarence held up his hands. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know what you meant. But we’re done with that. We’re done with the accusations. We’re done with the suspicion. If you have a question, you ask me. And you believe my answer. Until I give you a reason not to.”

Clarence nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

 

Rachel got pregnant three months later.

She didn’t plan it. Didn’t force it. It just happened. The way things happen when two people stop fighting and start loving each other again.

Clarence cried when she told him. Big, ugly, happy tears.

“We’re having a baby,” he said. “Our baby.”

“Our baby,” Rachel agreed.

She didn’t say “I told you so.” She didn’t bring up the lie detector test or the boxers or the MySpace messages. She just held her husband and let herself be happy.

 

The baby was born on a Tuesday.

A girl. Seven pounds, three ounces. Perfect.

Clarence held her in the hospital room, staring at her face like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“She looks like you,” he told Rachel.

“Poor thing,” Rachel said.

Clarence laughed. “She’s lucky. She’s got your eyes. Your nose. Your…”

He stopped.

“My what?”

“Your honesty,” he said. “I hope she gets your honesty.”

Rachel reached for his hand. “She will. Because she’s going to see her parents love each other. And trust each other. And that’s going to be normal for her.”

Clarence squeezed her hand. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, it is.”