It all started with a pair of pants.

Surprisingly, they were a clean pair. They were not grubbily stained with evidence of an extra marital liaison because I'd been faithful since the night we first slept together. But despite my fidelity, there they were to greet me on the doorstep.

Beside them was my sponge bag and the door was locked and bolted. The message was clear; my wife had decided she'd had enough. Clearly things had to change if I was to be re-admitted to the family home. Moreover, a single pair of pants, toothbrush and razor were not going to last me long. I had to negotiate a truce, fast.

Looking back to that evening, almost 20 years ago, I can now say it marked the tipping point in our marriage. I eventually talked my way back into the house, but only when I promised faithfully to accompany my wife to some counselling at Relate.

Read the rest of the story on the RELATE website

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