I ran into my ex-wife two years after the divorce. Right then, it all made sensebut she just smiled and shook her head when I suggested starting over.
When our second child was born, Laura stopped caring about how she looked. She used to change outfits several times a day, always polished, every detail perfectly matched. But after coming home from the hospital, it was like she forgot her wardrobe existed beyond an old t-shirt and a pair of worn-out joggers.
Shed wear them all day, sometimes even to bed. When I asked why, shed say it was easier for those late-night feeds with the kids. I got that, but what happened to her old saying, *”A woman should always be a woman, no matter what”*? She never mentioned it anymore. Or her favourite salon, the gym, her stylist. Andsorry for being bluntsometimes shed forget to put on a bra in the morning and just walk around the house without a care.
Her body had changed too. Her waist, her stomach, her legsnone of it was the same. Her hair, once shiny and styled, was always a mess: either a tangle of curls or a messy bun with flyaways. And to think back when wed stroll through London, men would turn to look at her. I used to feel proud. Beautiful. Mine.
But that woman was gone.
Our house mirrored her mood. The only thing Laura kept perfect was her cooking. That never slippedher dishes were still amazing. But everything else? Depressing.
I tried telling her she couldnt let herself go like this. That she had to find herself again. Shed just give me a sad smile and promise to try. Months passed, and every day, I saw a stranger in front of me.
Until one day, Id had enough.
I made my decision: divorce.
No shouting, no drama. She begged me to reconsider, but when she saw I wouldnt budge, she just sighed and whispered, *”Do what you want I thought you loved me.”*
I didnt reply. Arguing about love felt pointless. I went to the courthouse, and soon after, we signed the papers.
I dont know if I was a good dad. I sent child support, nothing more. I didnt want to see her. Not like that. Not the woman shed become.
Two years later
It was an autumn evening in Manchester. I was lost in thought, wandering aimlessly, when I spotted her.
There was something in the way she movedconfidence in every step. Light, elegant, self-assured. And when she got close enough, my heart stopped.
It was Laura.
But not the Laura Id left behind.
This woman was even more stunning than when we first met. High heels, a dress that hugged her figure, flawless hair, perfect manicure, subtle but striking makeup. And that perfume the same one that used to drive me mad.
I mustve gaped, because she laughed. *”Whats wrong? Dont recognise me? I told you Id changeyou just didnt believe me.”*
I walked her to the gym she now trained at daily. She talked about the kids, how well they were doing, how happy they were. About herself, she didnt say muchbut she didnt need to. Her posture, her glow, her confidence it said everything.
And me?
I remembered.
Those mornings Id get annoyed seeing her in pyjamas, hair a mess, irritated she wasnt put together like before. The days her exhaustion frustrated me. The exact moment I decided to leave, when my selfishness convinced me she wasnt enough anymore.
And I remembered walking away from her meant walking away from my own kids.
Before we said goodbye, I gathered the courage to ask, *”Can I call you? I get it now maybe we could try again.”*
Laura looked at me, calm. Then she smiled, shaking her head. *”Its too late, Oliver. Take care.”*
And she walked away.
I stood there, frozen, watching her disappear into the crowd.
Yeah.
I finally understood.
Just too late.
