Love Turned to Bitter Disappointment Without Warning

Love turned into a bitter disappointment without warning
I never saw it coming He simply left me with the finished picture: how love became a sour disillusion.
My name is Élodie. Im twentyseven, confident and attractive, with a solid job and steady income. My wishes were modest: get married, have two children, and someday drive a car Id bought with my own hardearned money. Wealth wasnt my goal, only love and peace.
A year ago I met Antoine. He seemed mature, reliable, calmtempered, with a gentle smile. I fell for him the way one falls only once in a lifetime. We started dating and, shortly after, he offered me to move into his flat in Lyon. I didnt hesitate.
My parents, however, were adamantly opposed.
Hes already been married, Élodie! If he couldnt keep his family, the fault lies with him, my mother warned, eyes worried.
My father showed his dislike as well. I believed everyone deserved a second chance, so I left. I packed my suitcases, clothes, books, a bit of comfort. I had no idea that stepping over his threshold also meant crossing a line of trust.
In the kitchen, a boy of about seven sat at the table.
Thats my son, Théo. Hell be living with us, Antoine said, as detached as if he were talking about a kitten, not a child I wasnt prepared to become a stepmother to on day one.
I was speechless.
Why didnt you tell me beforehand?
What would that have changed? he shrugged. His mother moved to Marseille with her new husband, and now a child is in the way. Two of us cant manage, youre an adult
I tried to convince myself I could handle it. Ive always liked kids; I thought we could bond, become close. But everything went wrong.
Théo turned out to be irritable, capricious and badly behaved. He hurled insults, threw tantrums, shouted that I cooked poorly and smelled awful. Whenever Antoine approached me, Théo grew jealous and loudly demanded his attention.
I was exhausted. After work I scrubbed floors, did the laundry, cooked, and on top of that had to care for a child who openly despised me. I tried to do right: help with homework, play, read stories. He turned his back or called for his father. To him, only his father existed.
When I complained to Antoine, he downplayed it:
Youll get used to it, youre an adult. Be firmer. If you cant, ignore him. Hes just a kid, what do you expect?
I clenched my teeth. Yet each night my courage waned. I didnt want to go back anymore. I no longer felt loved.
One day I didnt return home. I went to my grandmothers in Bordeaux, switched off my phone and disappeared for twentyfour hours. When I called Antoine the next morning, his tone was icy. I tried to explain:
Antoine, we need to talk. You never warned me wed be three. I wasnt ready for that. I cant get along with Théo, and you give me no support
Support? Youre an adult! If you cant handle a child, thats your problem. You failed the test.
What test? I asked, bewildered.
The endurance test! You ran away, which proves youre not made for me. You liked my flat and my salary, not me. Youre selfish!
My selfish? Your exwife is selfish for abandoning her son! And you didnt even tell me! I wasnt prepared to become a mother!
Leave, he ordered. Grab your things and go.
I collected my belongings in silence. Tears choked me, but I held firm. I left his apartment, leaving behind what, only yesterday, had seemed like the start of a new life.
And you know what? I have no regrets. I realized I dont have to prove my worth to anyone, especially not to someone who turned love into an experiment.
I still believe in family, but now I know one thing: I will never let anyone secretly rewrite my story. A man with a child isnt a condemnation, but a man who hides the truth is definitely not for me.