Emily, the therapist looked straight into my eyes and said, You and your husband are equally to blame for the divorce.
Me? No way! Hes the one who tore the family apart! I snapped.
Listen, Emily, when a couple splits, the fault is shared 5050. Not 9010 or 6040, but an even split. You just didnt manage a proper relationship, she replied calmly, confidence in her tone.
What am I supposed to do? Ive got two girls. James loves them, but I hate him. What now? I wanted to believe her, as if shed got a magic wand that could set everything straight.
First, calm down, Emily. You cant rush in fulltilt or youll break. Whos going to look after the kids? Your daughters need a sensible mum, not a hysteric one. So, are you thinking about getting into a new relationship?
Never! Not after being let down again.
Take it easy. Youre still young; lifes ahead of you. Why did you marry in the first place?
For happiness, I whispered, tears spilling.
Exactly. Everyone wants that big, bright happiness, yet so many end up splitting up. School teaches us maths, not the tricks of a lasting marriage. And the result? People rush into weddings, then run off in tears to the courthouse while the best years slip by. Youth fades fast.
I gave everything to the family! I put up with James for fifteen years while he was a deadweight, never noticing a roses scent. He was passive about everything. Ive had it. I cant stand to see him. Our loves shattered. I wanted to vent until I ran out of breath.
I have an idea, Emily. Up for a little experiment? the therapist smiled mischievously.
What kind? I perked up.
Probably youll want a new relationship soon. So, take a breather and find a boy to practice on, if you will. Use him to hone your domestic skills, learn what it feels like to live with a man, see if you can be comfortable. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
And where am I supposed to find such a fool? I asked, bewildered.
You dont have to look. Your practice boy could be your exhusband.
My what?
Well, you dont care about him at all. If he walks out, who cares? Its a winwin, Emily. She sounded convinced.
I thought about it. I wasnt risking anything. I really didnt miss James. Let him go to hell.
James had driven me so crazy that I packed the girls and moved into a tiny flat in Manchester. The court later handed us a divorce, and James kept begging me to think it over. Id burnt every bridge.
I had no men on my radar after fifteen years of marriage I craved solitude. Then James started sending cheap gifts, flowers, even invited me to a sauna, trying to claw back attention. I was exhausted. He still couldnt accept it was over.
When I slipped into that flat with Lucy and Emma, I felt a huge weight lift. I breathed out, finally feeling like I was in heaven, floating on clouds.
But the girls dragged me back down to earth:
Mum, whats Daddys fault?
I was stunned. How do I explain to them that I wont be sharing a life with their father, that his words are just empty wind? Life felt cramped and grey. Thats when I decided to see the therapist again, hoping for some guidance.
So the experiment began. I called James a month after the split:
Hey, James. How are you? Fancy meeting up? Ive got a few things on my mind.
Emily? Of course, just say when! he replied, almost giddy.
We met on a park bench. He kept edging closer, trying to take my hand. We talked about nothing in particular. No big questions. He walked me home, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, handed the girls a little treat.
Inside my flat, I peeked out the window; James was still standing outside. I waved, he sent a cheeky airkiss back.
Honestly, those lowkey dates with my ex were fine. No shouting, no smashed dishes. Life started to look brighter, more colourful.
We ended up meeting once a month coffee, a film, a stroll in the park. My days felt stitched together with joy, and I started to picture a future that somehow included James.
A year later, I asked, James, are we still meeting today?
Sorry, Emily, Im swamped. Ill call you when Im free, he said, hanging up.
That happened three or four times. I began to feel jittery. What was wrong? Had someone else stolen his path? Was he getting serious with someone? Jealousy crept in, and I wanted answers.
I rang him:
James, the girls miss you. How about a trip to the zoo?
Emily, Ive got a wife in the maternity ward, he sighed.
What wife? Are you joking? This is ridiculous! I shouted.
Not joking, Emily. Were expecting a baby with Lily.
I was speechless. All I could muster was, Goodbye then. I wish you all the happiness under a cloudless sky.
