The man Id always dreamed of left his wife for me, but I never guessed how it would all unfold.
Id fancied him since my uni dayscompletely smitten, utterly blind to reason. When he finally noticed me years later, I was over the moon. We wound up at the same firm, both in the legal field, so it wasnt exactly a shock. But to me, it felt like destiny.
Back then, he seemed perfect. I was young, carelesswhy should I mind that he was married? Id never been wed myself, didnt understand the weight of a broken home. So when Oliver chose me over his wife, I felt no guilt. Who knew itd bring such heartache? Theyre rightyou cant build joy on anothers pain.
When he picked me, I was floating, ready to forgive anything. Truth was, behind closed doors, he wasnt the charmer everyone saw. His clothes were always strewn about, hed never lift a finger for the dishes, and the chores all fell to me. But at the time, I didnt care.
He moved on from his first marriage fast. No kids, just pressure from her family to wed. With me, he swore, it was different.
That happiness barely lasted till I fell pregnant. At first, Oliver was thrilledwe even threw a big family do to celebrate. Everyone toasted to love and our babys health. That night? One of my brightest memories. No regrets there. But from then on, my rose-tinted love began to crumble.
The more my bump grew, the less I saw of him. Maternity leave left me home alone while he stayed late at the office, always at some work do. At first, I brushed it off. Soon, though, it wore me down. Simple tasks became a strugglebending to pick up his discarded socks was impossible.
I started wonderinghad we rushed into parenthood?
I knew passion fades, but not this fast. Oliver still brought flowers, chocolatesyet all I wanted was his presence. Then came the rumours. Over tea, a colleague mentioned a new hire in our department. Theyd been short-staffed, and with me on leave, things were dire. The irony.
I didnt know if it was her, but Oliver was definitely seeing someone. Work, meetings, partieshe was never free. Once, I found a note in his coat pocket, signed with initials I didnt recognise. I put it back, pretended Id seen nothing.
Terrifying, being seven months gone and alone, yet he called *me* irrational. Every row ended with his weary sigh. I knewif I confronted him, Id lose him. Fear gripped me so tight, I couldnt think straight. They say what you fear most always finds you.
No matter how sweet Oliver had been, he was no knight. The worst words I ever heard? *”Im not ready for kids.”* And: *”Theres someone else.”* The details blur, but I remember feeling my mind snap.
I never thought Id have the spine to divorce him. He certainly didnt. Nor did he expect me to chuck his things out the next day. Thank God wed only rentedno messy split over the flat.
*”What about the baby? How will you manage?”*
*”Ill manage. Remote work, maybe. Mum and Dad have offered to help. Mum always said he was a cadshouldve listened.”*
Maybe it was the thought of my son that steeled me. Alone, I mightve stayed. But I refused to raise a child with a man like that.
His betrayal was so foul, I wanted nothing more to do with him. Like scales had fallen from my eyes.
Those first months post-divorcebirth includedwere brutal. I moved back with my parents, who doted on their grandson. Did I miss Oliver? A bit. But I shoved the thought aside. Deep down, I knew Id done right by my boy.
Once recovered, I hunted for work. Freelance legal translations became my lifeline. Lean months? My parents helped. Soon, I had steady clients, no longer needed handouts.
My son grew fastnursery turned to school, year one to five. For the first time in ages, I felt free. Then, out of nowhere, Oliver reappeared.
Our towns small, the legal world tighter. Wasnt hard for him to track down my office. I wished then Id moved away. Turns out, hed settled down, full of regret. *Too young, too stupid*, he said. Wanted to meet his son.
Heres the rub: the law lets him. If he pushes, hell get access. The thought terrifies me. Weeks have passed since he asked. I told him Id think on ittruth is, Im paralysed. I want to keep my son from him.
Now I wonderis this my comeuppance? For stealing him from his first wife? Maybe I *should* move.
