The man of my dreams left his wife for me, but I never saw the storm coming.
Id longed for him since my university days in a quiet village near Manchester. It was a blind, reckless lovethe kind that clouds judgment and drowns out reason. When he finally noticed me years later, any sense I had left vanished. Fate reunited us at the same law firm. Shared ambitions, shared passions. I mistook coincidence for destiny, a fairy tale about to unfold.
He seemed perfect, plucked straight from my fantasies. His marriage didnt faze me thenI didnt understand the wreckage left behind when vows break. I felt no guilt when Oliver left his wife for me. Who knew that choice would lead to such sorrow? The old saying holds true: happiness built on anothers pain is brittle as glass.
When he chose me, I floated on air, ready to forgive anything. But day to day, he was no prince. His clutter smothered the flat, dishes piled high, and the weight of chores crushed my shoulders. I ignored itlove blinded me, made me pliant, soft, almost meek.
His first marriage faded quickly, as if hed wiped it from memory. No children, just duty, he claimed, forced by in-laws. Youre different, hed murmur. Youre my fate. I melted. But that happiness was fleeting as a spark. Everything shifted when I fell pregnant.
At first, Oliver glowedhis child, ours! We threw a lavish party, toasts ringing, well-wishes wrapping us in warmth. That night lingers, a lone ember in the gathering dark. I dont regret it, but after, my love began to fray like a candle guttering in the wind.
As my belly swelled, Oliver vanished. Maternity leave left me alone, our time reduced to late-night glimpses. Work kept him. Corporate dinners. Excuses. At first, I endured. Then it became unbearable. Pregnancy weighed me down, yet his socks and shirts sprawled like silent accusations. Had we rushed into this? Love cools with time, but I never dreamed itd freeze so fast.
He still brought flowers, chocolatesempty gestures. I needed him. His presence. His warmth. Then the truth surfaced. A coffee break with colleagues cracked the veneer: a bright young recruit had joined his team. Coincidence? Maybe. But work and meetings now cloaked his absences. One day, I found a note in his coat pocketinitials I didnt recognise. My chest tightened, but I slipped it back, too afraid to confront him. Fear of facing the seventh month alone glued my lips shut.
He sighed when I snapped, as if I were the burden. I avoided the real issueknowing it meant the end. Then it came. The worst words Ive ever heard: Im not ready for a child. Theres someone else. The rest blurred. My world crumbled. Pain and humiliation threatened to break me.
But strength surged. I filed for divorce, each form a stab to the heart. He never expected itor me tossing his things into the street the next day. Thankfully, the flat was rented. No shared assets to fight over.
What about the baby? he spat as a parting shot. How will you manage?
Ill manage. Freelance work. My parents help. Mum always said you were a womaniser. Shouldve listened. The door slammed behind him.
My son gave me a spine I never knew I had. Alone, I mightve stayed. For him, I left. Olivers betrayal was so vile I scrubbed him from my life like a stain. The scales fell. I saw him clearly.
The months afterbirth, recoverywere hell. I moved back to my parents in a nearby town. They embraced us, smitten with their grandson. I missed Oliver sometimes, but shoved the thought away. Deep down, I knew: Id done right. My son would have everything.
Once strong enough, I worked from home translating legal texts. Lean months came, but my parents bridged the gap until clients stacked up. My boy grew. Years slipped by unnoticed. Reality hit when he needed his own space. My parents resisted, but I craved independencea desk for me, a study for him. By then, we could afford a place of our own.
Life softened. Nursery turned to school, infancy to adolescence. For the first time in years, I breathed easy. Then Oliver returned. Our small legal world meant he found my office without trying. How I wished Id moved farther! He claimed growth, regret, youths folly. Wanted to meet his sonthe one hed never seen.
Legally, he has the right. The thought chills me. Weeks have passed since that talk. I said Id consider it, but my minds a whirlwindI dont trust him. Wont let him near my boy. Is this my penance? The cost of stealing him away? Im half-tempted to vanish, flee to another town, just to keep the past from knocking twice.
