A few months ago, I learned that my husband had an affair with one of his colleagues, with whom we were also friends. This coupling happened before and during the pandemic. The friendship fizzled out as lockdowns ended — and long before I was told about their relationship.
She and I texted a little after I learned of the affair. I told her I knew and that she had done a terrible thing. She offered to meet me, then stood me up, suggesting that I would be better prepared in a few weeks’ time. This annoyed me. Who is she to decide when I am “ready”? But I gave it six weeks and emailed her asking to talk. I made it clear that I didn’t want to yell at her or to tell her what a horrible person she is, but that I wanted to talk about how she betrayed our friendship. It has been over a month, and she hasn’t replied.
If the circumstances were different, I wouldn’t pursue “the other woman,” but I had a separate friendship with this person. As my husband and I go through the process of mending our marriage, I feel as if I’m struggling to get closure with this hanging over me. The fact that I was betrayed by both a partner and a friend has made it very difficult for me to feel as if I can trust anyone.
Would knocking on her door be a step too far? I know she’ll ignore me as long as she can, but we live in the same area and running into each other someday is inevitable. I don’t want to be caught off guard when that happens. I don’t expect a meaningful apology, but at the very least I feel she owes it to me to look me in the eye. — Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
The question of what your former friend owes you may distract you from a more pressing one: What is it that you’re hoping to get from confronting her? You say you’re struggling for closure and apparently think that sharing your feelings with this woman will help. Whether it will, though, depends on the nature of the encounter. What would you say to her that you haven’t said? How would you expect her to respond? After you remind her of how she betrayed your friendship, does she dissolve into a flood of abject tears, convulsed with self-loathing and a full acceptance of her awfulness, or does she become defensive and brittle, offering formulaic words of contrition that only deepen your sense of betrayal? You’re anticipating an exchange between victim and victimizer. But she may see herself as a victim, too. Perhaps your husband had intimated to her that his marriage was loveless and gray; she was led to imagine a future in which they would make a life together, electric with love, and his change of heart has left her grieving. I can imagine 50 ways this exchange could go, and few are likely to satisfy you.
If your former friend doesn’t want to meet you to talk about her offenses against you, I doubt she’ll welcome you into her home if you show up uninvited. She might also worry that you pose a threat to her; your unannounced presence may suggest that you are spoiling for a fight. Forcing her to “look you in the eye” in those circumstances isn’t likely to be all that rewarding. As with a cultured pearl, the extracted apology isn’t a patch on a spontaneous one. Reparative justice in the emotional realm can happen only if she freely chooses to talk with you. The social theorist Erving Goffman saw apology as “a splitting of the self into a blameworthy part and a part that stands back and sympathizes with the blame giving, and, by implication, is worthy of being brought back into the fold.” But you can’t force that splitting, and it doesn’t sound as if you’re ready to bring her back into the fold, either.
People often tell themselves that they’re seeking resolution when they’re really seeking retribution. It would be understandable if you were hoping to deliver a measure of punishment by rubbing her nose in her betrayal and unburdening yourself of all the searing remarks you’ve rehearsed in your mind. But I suspect that it won’t feel adequate and that it won’t rebuild your ability to trust other people. For that, I would focus on rebuilding trust with your husband, who, of course, has a lot to answer for. If you want to talk to someone about what happened, you might gain more by talking to a counselor.
Readers Respond
The previous question was from a reader who had doubts about a class-action settlement she was entitled to. She wrote: “I was recently informed via email that I could be entitled to a share of a settlement from a class-action lawsuit. The company being sued denied wrongdoing but agreed to the settlement to avoid an expensive legal battle. I admire this company and have used its product for years. My suspicion is that the lawyers behind the lawsuit are bounty hunters exploiting a technicality. Should I still file for my share of the settlement? (It would be modest — enough to take my husband out for dinner.) If I don’t take my share, everyone else will just get more.”
In his response, the Ethicist noted: “I admire your scruples about this relatively small amount of money. From one perspective, the company and the class-action lawyers are both economic actors; the company’s legal team will have made their best assessment of its potential losses, as the opposing lawyers will have made their best assessment of their potential gains, and they will have litigated or negotiated accordingly. Still, if you are right — and you ought to spend a little more time to satisfy yourself that you are — taking your share would mean going along with a scheme that wrongly exploits the class-action system. … Giving up your share wouldn’t change this, of course. But at least the affair wouldn’t be something you took part in or benefited from.” (Reread the full question and answer here.)
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I agree with the Ethicist, although I see another option for the letter writer. Why not take the settlement check and donate it to charity, or better yet, return it to the company with a note of support? — Steve
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Lawyer here: It’s difficult to know whether the lawsuit is bogus unless you have seen all of the relevant evidence. I’m not sure that the validity of the suit should be a factor in the letter writer’s decision. The class-action lawsuit, while a blunt instrument in many cases, is designed for expedience, to help those who may have been injured and to punish a wrongdoer. Apparently there is enough weighing on the side of the company potentially having done something wrong or illegal that it was willing to settle, and enough people were potentially harmed that the letter writer is part of a legitimately formed class. Her decision not to take the money won’t change any of this. Taking the money means that she can go to dinner. When I was a few months out of college, I interviewed for a Wall Street job that apparently I was not intended to be offered because I am female. Years later, I received a notice of class action and was baffled. A kindly lawyer explained class actions to me, I got $300, which was more than a nice dinner then, and the company had to change its hiring and management policies and practices. It felt like a small victory. — Anne
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Although I like the Ethicist’s response, I wonder if this letter would have been written had the settlement amount been significantly greater. I have found, perhaps somewhat cynically, that we are all too often as scrupulous as we can afford to be, whether financially, emotionally or otherwise. — Nicholas
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I work for a law firm that defends companies against class-action lawsuits. When a consumer class-action lawsuit settles, a specific pool of money is designated for the settlement, and each person who is a class member receives (in most cases) a tiny percentage of the settlement funds. If the letter writer elects not to participate, the rest of the class members will typically receive incrementally more (generally something like one-tenth of one cent depending on the size of the class). — Linda
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I am a lawyer. One of the most powerful reasons to settle, even while denying culpability, is that going to trial is massively uncertain. Perhaps the jury will not be persuaded of your version of the facts. Perhaps that witness that seemed so confident in your office will get flustered on the stand and be less credible than you expected. Perhaps the other side’s witnesses will be more persuasive. Even if you win, you will have to pay your attorney’s fees and sometimes if you lose, you may have to pay your fees and your opponent’s legal fees. In contrast, the end result of signing a settlement can be readily calculated without as much uncertainty. So lawyers often recommend settling rather than going to trial even when they think they could win. The letter writer should not be so sure that she knows whether the lawsuit was brought in good faith or is being settled for bogus reasons, or that she could even find that out. What she does know is that the two sides have decided that the settlement is better than going to trial. The letter writer should take her share and enjoy the dinner. — Carol
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