Now I’m 52, and Ive got nothing. No wife, no family, no kids, no jobnothing at all.
My names Peter. My wife and I were married for 30 years. I was always the breadwinner, while my wife, Emily, took care of the home. I never wanted her to workI liked having her there. But over time, it started to grate on me.
We lived together respectfully, but the love faded. I thought that was normal, even fine. Then everything changed. One night, at a pub, I met Sophie. She was 20 years youngergorgeous, sweet, full of life. Like a dream come true.
We started seeing each other, and soon she became my mistress. After two months, I realised I didnt want to keep cheating. I dreaded going home after work. I knew thenI loved Sophie and wanted her as my wife.
A few days later, I told Emily the truth. She didnt make a scene, just stayed calm. I thought maybe she didnt love me either, the way she accepted it so quietly. But now I understand how much I hurt her.
We divorced. Sold the flat where wed spent so many years together. Sophie insisted I shouldnt leave it for my ex-wife, so I didnt. Emily bought a tiny studio. Me? I blew my savings on a two-bedroom flat for Sophie.
I didnt help Emilydidnt give her a single quid. I knew she had no money, no job lined up. But I didnt care. Our kids, Oliver and James, refused to speak to me. They felt Id betrayed their mum and wouldnt forgive me.
At the time, I didnt care much. Sophie was pregnant, and we were excited for the baby. Soon, a son was born. But he looked nothing like me or Sophie. My mates doubted he was mine. I ignored them.
Life with Sophie was a mess. I worked myself ragged, handled the house and the kid, while Sophie just demanded money and stayed out all hours. The place was filthy, no meals ever ready. Shed stumble in at 3 AM, reeking of booze, picking fights over nothing.
Then I lost my job. I was exhausted, angry, doing shoddy work. That went on for three years. Then my brotherwho never approved of Sophie and always doubted the kid was minetalked me into a DNA test. Turned out, he wasnt my son.
We divorced the second the truth came out. By then, Id had no contact with Emily or my boys. After the divorce, I decided to win Emily back. Bought flowers, wine, a cakeshowed up at her place. But she didnt live there anymore. The new owner pointed me to her new address.
I went. A man opened the door. Turned out Emily had landed a great job and married a colleague. She was happy. Thriving.
Later, I bumped into her at a café. Asked her to come back. She looked at me like I was daft and walked away. Now I see the mistake I made. What did I want? What did I gain? Why did I leave my wife for some young woman?
Now Im 52. And Ive got nothing. No wife, no job, even my kids wont talk to me. I lost everything that ever mattered. And its all my fault. Worst part? I can never fix it.
