Jealousy Destroyed Me: When I Saw My Wife Step Out of Another Mans Car, I Lost Control and Ruined My Life
I stood by the window, fists clenched, my heart pounding so violently I thought it might burst. The room was silent, but inside my head, one question roared: *Why is she so late?*
The clock on the wall ticked deafeningly.
It was late. Far too late.
Then I saw the headlights illuminating the street.
A sleek black car pulled up right outside the house. My breath caught. A man was behind the wheeltall, self-assured. A stranger.
Then the passenger door opened.
And *she* stepped out.
Something inside me shattered.
She was smiling. Effortlessly, as if it meant nothing. She leaned into the window, said something to the driver, and he *laughed*.
Then she shut the door and walked calmly toward the house.
Every muscle in my body locked tight.
*Who was that man? How long had this been going on? How had I been so blind?*
The door opened, and she strolled in, tossing her bag onto the table like it was any other night.
Who was that? I asked, my voice strained.
She paused, frowning. Who was *who*?
The man in the car. Who is he?
She sighed, exasperated, as if I were asking something ridiculous. Oliver, dont start. That was James, Marthas husband. He gave me a lift because it was late. Are we really going to argue about this?
But I wasnt listening anymore.
My head was a storm. My blood boiled.
And then my hand rose.
The slap echoed through the room.
She staggered back, clutching her face. A trickle of blood seeped from her nose.
The silence that followed was terrifying.
Then I saw it in her eyes.
Not anger. Not pain. *Fear.*
I knew it was over.
No going back.
She didnt scream. Didnt cry.
Just grabbed her coat and left.
The next morning, a solicitor knocked with the divorce papers.
The court took everythingeven my son.
I put up with your jealousy for years, she told me later, her voice ice. But violence? Never.
I begged for forgiveness. Swore it was a mistake. A moment of madness. That it would never happen again.
She didnt care.
And then came the final blowin court, she claimed I was aggressive with our son.
A lie.
A cruel, calculated lie. Id never laid a hand on him. Never raised my voice.
But who would believe me? A man whod already struck his wife.
The judge didnt hesitate.
She got full custody.
I got scrapsa few hours a week. Supervised visits in a neutral place.
No nights together. No mornings making breakfast.
For six months, I lived for those moments.
For the way hed run into my arms, hug me tight, whisper how much he missed me.
And then, once again, I had to watch him leave.
Until one day, he told me something that broke me completely.
The truth, from my five-year-old sons lips.
He was growing. Starting to notice things.
One day, as he played with toy cars, he said it without thinking:
Daddy, Mummy wasnt home last night. A lady came to stay with me.
My body went rigid.
What lady? I asked, throat tight.
Dunno. She comes when Mummy goes out at night.
I couldnt breathe.
Where does Mummy go?
He shrugged. She doesnt tell me.
My hands curled into fists.
I needed the truth.
And when I found it, everything inside me exploded.
Shed hired a babysitter.
A stranger.
While I begged for more time with our son, she left him with someone else.
I called her.
Why is our son with a stranger when Im *here*?
Her voice was cold. Dismissive. Because its easier.
*Easier?* My breath turned ragged. Im his father! If youre not there, he should be with *me*!
She sighed, impatient. Oliver, Im not dragging him to yours every time I have plans. Stop making a scene.
My knuckles whitened around the phone.
What could I do? Report her? Fight in court?
What if I lost *again*?
One mistake.
One moment of fury.
And they took everything.
But my son
I wont lose him.
I wont let a stranger raise him.
Ill fight.
Because hes all I have left.
