October 12th, 2023
I ran into my ex-wife two years after the divorce. In that moment, it all made sensebut she just smiled and shook her head when I suggested we start over.
When our second child was born, Emily stopped caring about how she looked. Before, shed change outfits twice a day, always put together, every detail perfectly matched. But after coming home from the hospital, it was as if shed forgotten her wardrobe held anything but an old t-shirt and worn-out joggers. Shed wear them all day, sometimes even to bed. When I asked why, shed say it was easier for late-night feeds. Fair enough, but what happened to the woman who used to say, “A lady should always look like a lady”? She never mentioned that anymore. Nor did she talk about her favourite salon, the gym, or her hairstylist. And yesforgive the detailsometimes shed forget a bra in the mornings, padding around the house without a second thought.
Her body had changed too. Her waist, her stomach, her legsnone of them what theyd been. Her hair, once glossy and styled, was now a mess: either a tangled nest of curls or a hasty bun with strands sticking out. And to think back when we strolled 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 Emily kept flawless was her cookingshe never slipped there, her meals still a proper delight. The rest? Depressing.
I tried telling her she couldnt let herself go like this. That she needed to find herself again. Shed just smile sadly and say shed try. Months passed, and every day, I saw a stranger.
Then one day, Id had enough.
I made my decision: divorce.
No shouting, no drama. She tried to talk me out of it, but when she saw I wouldnt budge, she just sighed and muttered, “Do what you want I thought you loved me.”
I didnt answer. What was the point arguing over what love was or wasnt? I went to the courthouse, and soon enough, we signed the papers.
I dont know if I was a good father. I sent child support and nothing else. I didnt want to see her. Not like that. Not the woman shed become.
Two years later
An autumn afternoon in Manchester. I was wandering, lost in thought, when I spotted her.
There was something in the way she moveda confidence in her stride that caught the eye. Light, elegant, self-assured. And when she got close enough, my heart stopped.
It was Emily.
But not the Emily Id left behind.
This woman was more striking than shed ever been. High heels, a dress that hugged her figure, flawless hair, manicured nails, makeup understated but stunning. 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 change, but you didnt believe me.”
I walked her to the gym where she now trained daily. She talked about the kids, how well they were doing, how happy they were. About herself, she said littlebut she didnt need to. Her eyes, her posture, her poise they said it all.
And I
I remembered.
Those mornings Id grumble at her pyjamas and messy hair, the days her exhaustion frustrated me. The exact moment I decided to leave, when my selfishness convinced me she wasnt enough anymore.
And I rememberedwalking out on her meant walking out on my own children.
Before we parted, I found the nerve to ask, “Can I call you? I get it now Maybe we could try again.”
Emily looked at me, calm. Then she smiled and shook her head. “Too late, James. Take care.”
And she was gone.
I stood there, frozen, watching her vanish into the crowd.
Yes.
I understood.
But too late.
Some lessons dont sink in until youve already lost.
