Narrator: "How can I ever trust you again?" It’s a question that echoes in the ruins of a relationship shattered by sexual betrayal. It hangs in the air, heavy with pain, anger, and a grief so profound it seems unanswerable. For the man who has broken his wife’s trust, this question can feel like a final judgment, a wall too high to ever scale. Many men, faced with this wall, give up. They believe the damage is permanent and that divorce is the only path forward. But what if that common assumption is wrong?

In their book, Worthy of Her Trust: What You Need to Do to Rebuild Sexual Integrity and Win Her Back, authors Stephen Arterburn and Jason B. Martinkus provide a direct, no-nonsense guide for men committed to the arduous but ultimately redemptive journey of rebuilding what was broken. They argue that trust can be restored, but it requires far more than apologies and promises. It demands a radical commitment to action, honesty, and a complete reordering of one's life.

Narrator: Before any real progress can be made, a man must first dismantle the myths that prevent true healing. The authors argue that many men and women cling to false beliefs that sabotage the recovery process. One of the most pervasive myths is that "time heals all wounds." The reality is that time alone does nothing; it is time filled with sincere, consistent, and active effort that heals. Simply stopping the destructive behavior is not enough either. A man must replace the old, harmful actions with new, healthy ones that actively demonstrate his commitment to change.

Another destructive myth is that the wife’s controlling behavior is the primary problem. The authors explain that a wife’s need to check emails, phone records, or whereabouts is often a direct response to the emotional insecurity her husband created. In one story, a wife named Shelley acknowledged her own controlling tendencies, but she realized they were amplified by her husband's betrayal. She was trying to protect herself from further pain. The authors insist that if a husband demands his wife fix her "control issues" before he addresses his own integrity, the process is doomed. The focus must first be on the husband’s actions to restore her sense of safety.

Narrator: The foundation of rebuilding trust is absolute, radical honesty. Arterburn and Martinkus are clear: there can be no more lies, no more secrets, and no more withholding of information. Even a "white lie" can be catastrophic. The authors share a simple story of a husband whose wife, Shelley, asked for his opinion on a sweater. He thought it looked "grandma-ish" and, resisting the urge to offer a false compliment, told her the truth. While she was momentarily annoyed, he established a crucial principle: he would rather risk her temporary displeasure than lie to her.

This commitment extends to what the authors call "active truth-telling." It is not enough to be honest when asked. A man must proactively provide information, anticipating his wife's questions and anxieties. This shifts the burden off of her, so she no longer feels like a private investigator. For example, instead of waiting for his wife to ask about his internet history, a husband should proactively review it with her, explaining his activities and demonstrating his commitment to transparency. The authors stress that details are the currency of trust-building. Vague answers breed suspicion, while specific, detailed explanations build a bridge back to security.

Narrator: A man cannot rebuild trust on his own. He needs a system of external accountability that his wife can see and verify. The authors advocate for creating a small, dedicated group of trusted men who can hold the husband accountable for his actions and vouch for his progress. Co-author Jason Martinkus shares his own powerful story of recovery. After his infidelity, he formed an accountability group with three close friends. They met weekly for years, and in the beginning, he spoke with at least one of them three times a day. They became his lifeline, refusing to let him give up on his marriage when he was at his lowest.

Crucially, this accountability must be accessible to the wife. Martinkus reveals that for years, he was unaware that his wife, Shelley, had an agreement with his accountability partners. She could call them anytime to check in on his progress and integrity. When she felt insecure, she would make a call, and they would reassure her that her husband was doing the hard work and was worth fighting for. This external validation provided a layer of security that his words alone could not. It proved that his commitment to change was real and observable to others.

Narrator: Apologies are necessary, but they are not enough. True healing requires restitution, which the authors define as the act of making the injured party whole. This is not about punishment; it is about actively repairing the damage. This means it will cost the offender something—his freedom, his pride, his comfort. A husband must surrender freedoms he previously misused, such as the freedom to have total privacy with his phone and computer or the freedom to come and go without explanation.

The authors use a powerful analogy to explain why this is so critical. Martinkus recounts a childhood bicycle accident where he crashed into a barbed-wire fence, leaving a deep gash on his leg. In the emergency room, he was so terrified that the doctors could not stitch the wound properly. As a result, he was left with a large, ugly scar—a permanent reminder of a wound that never healed correctly. Emotional wounds from betrayal are the same. If they are not properly cleaned and "stitched" through the hard work of making amends, they will leave deep, painful scars on the relationship. The goal is not to punish the husband but to ensure the wound is tended to with such care that it can heal cleanly, creating a new, stronger bond in its place.

Narrator: Building trust is not an abstract concept; it is built through small, consistent, daily actions. The authors provide several tangible tools to help men in this process. One of the most effective is the "Five-Minute Rule." This is a simple but powerful commitment: when his wife calls, the husband must answer or return the call within five minutes. If he fails, she is free to assume the worst. Martinkus tells of being in a high-stakes boardroom meeting when his wife called. He had already informed his boss that he might have to step out. When the call came, he excused himself and took it, demonstrating to everyone in the room, and most importantly to his wife, that nothing was more important than rebuilding her trust.

Another tool is the "wifecam," a mental exercise where the husband acts as if his wife is always watching. When standing in line at a coffee shop or checking into a hotel, he considers how his posture, tone, and interactions with other women would appear to her. This simple mindset shift encourages him to maintain integrity at all times, not just when he is being monitored. These practical tactics are not a checklist to be completed, but rather tangible ways to live out a renewed commitment to the marriage.

Narrator: The central message of Worthy of Her Trust is that rebuilding a marriage after sexual betrayal is an active, not a passive, process. It is a battle that requires a comprehensive strategy, unwavering commitment, and a willingness to do the painful work of confronting the past to build a new future. Trust is not a destination to be reached, but a byproduct of consistent, honorable actions over time.

The book's most challenging and hopeful idea is that the goal is not to get back to "normal," because normal was broken. The goal is to create a new normal—a relationship forged in the fires of crisis, built on a foundation of radical honesty, and ultimately stronger and more intimate than what existed before. It is a reminder that while the path is difficult, the work of becoming a man worthy of her trust is a battle worth fighting.