The man I had always dreamed of left his wife for me, yet I never imagined how it would end. Id first noticed him at university we both studied engineering at the University of Manchester, so it wasnt unusual that we later ended up in the same firm, a Londonbased consultancy. I thought it was fate.
He seemed exactly the sort of bloke Id always wanted. At the time I didnt mind that he was already married; Id never been married myself and I couldnt picture what a broken marriage felt like. So when Paul decided to quit his wife for me, I felt no shame. Who could have guessed it would bring me so much pain? As the saying goes, you cant build your happiness on anothers misery.
When he chose me, I thought I was on cloud nine and I was ready to forgive anything. In everyday life, however, he was far from the charming gentleman he appeared to be in public. His belongings littered the flat, and he flatout refused to wash the dishes. All the housework fell on my shoulders, but at the time I didnt mind.
He quickly forgot his previous marriage. They had no children, and it turned out his parents had pushed him into that union. With me, he promised everything would be different.
My bliss was shortlived. When I discovered I was pregnant, Paul was over the moon. We even threw a familystyle celebration, with relatives sending wishes for love and good health for our unborn child. That evening remains one of my fondest memories, and I regret nothing about it. Yet from that point my blind love began to fade.
The larger my belly got, the less often I saw Paul. I was on maternity leave, so we only met late at night. He stayed late at the office more often and attended endless corporate functions. At first I tolerated it, but soon the exhaustion set in. Simple chores became a struggle; I could no longer bend down to pick up his socks scattered around the flat.
I started wondering whether we had rushed into having a child. I knew feelings could wane, but I hadnt expected it to happen so quickly. Paul still brought me flowers and chocolates, yet all I wanted was his presence.
It soon became clear his frequent outings were not innocent. A coworker mentioned, offhand, that a new junior employee had joined our department. The team was already shorthanded, and when I went on maternity leave the workload had become a nightmare a bitter irony.
I wasnt sure it was her, but Paul definitely had someone else; he never had a spare minute. Work, meetings, or another company dinner always seemed to take priority. One day I found a slip of paper in his jacket pocket with initials I didnt recognise. I cant say why I didnt confront him then; I simply put the note back and pretended not to see.
Being alone in my seventh month of pregnancy was terrifying, and Paul kept complaining that I had become too nervous. Every argument ended with a sigh of disappointment from him. I realised that if I raised the issue, I would end up alone. The fear of losing him was so strong it clouded my judgment as the old adage warns, fear can become a selffulfilling prophecy.
No matter how smoothly Paul had courted me, he was never a true gentleman. The worst words I ever heard were, Im not ready to have a child, and, I have someone else. I cant even recall exactly how he said them; at the time I thought I was losing my mind.
Summoning the courage to ask for a divorce seemed impossible. He hadnt expected me to set a limit on his behaviour, nor that I would throw all his belongings out the next day. I was grateful we lived in a rented flat at least I didnt have to share it any longer.
And the baby? What will you do? he asked.
Ill manage. Ill work from home, and my parents have offered help. Mother warned me he was a bit of a philanderer I should have listened.
Responsibility for my unborn son gave me strength I didnt know I possessed. Alone, I would never have found the bravery to leave. I also realised I didnt want to raise a child with a father like him. His betrayal was so cowardly that I wanted nothing more to do with him, as if a veil had finally been lifted from my eyes.
The first months after the divorce, including the birth, were incredibly hard. I moved back in with my parents, which delighted my grandparents, who were thrilled to have a grandson. I cant say I never missed Paul, but I tried not to dwell on him. Deep down I was convinced I had made the right choice and that I could give my son everything he needed.
Then, unexpectedly, Paul resurfaced. He claimed deep remorse and wanted to meet his son. Do I want that? Perhaps I should even consider moving to another city, like Brighton, to start anew.
Through all of this I learned that a life built on someone elses deceit is bound to collapse, and that true resilience comes from trusting yourself and protecting those you love.
