I still recall the way the man I had once dreamed of left his wife for me, though I never imagined how it would all end. I had admired him already at university. One could call it a naïve, blind devotion, and when his attention finally fell on me I lost my head entirely. It happened, truth be told, a few years after Id taken my degree we both ended up at the same firm in London. After all, we shared the same specialty, which was nothing out of the ordinary. Yet I took it as destiny.
He seemed the very gentleman I had always wanted. At the time I didnt mind that he was already married. I had never been wed myself and I could not fathom what it felt like to see a marriage crumble. So I felt no shame when Edward decided to abandon his wife for me. Who could have guessed it would bring me such pain? As the saying goes, you cannot build your happiness on anothers misery.
When he chose me I thought I was on cloud nine and ready to forgive any fault. In everyday life, however, he was far from the charming prince he appeared to be in public. His belongings littered every corner of our flat, and he flatout refused to wash the dishes. All the household chores fell on my shoulders, but back then I cared little.
He quickly forgot his former marriage. They had no children and it turned out his inlaws had urged him into that union. With me, he kept promising things would be different that was his refrain.
My happiness was shortlived, for everything changed when I became pregnant. At first Edward was overjoyed at the prospect of a child. We even threw a big family gathering to announce the news, with relatives wishing us love and good health for the little one on the way.
That evening remains one of my fondest memories, and I regret nothing when I think back. Yet from that moment my blind love began to dim.
The more my belly swelled, the less I saw Edward. I was on maternity leave, so we only met late at night. He stayed later at the office and attended endless company functions. At first it didnt bother me, but soon it wore me down. The chores grew harder; I could no longer simply bend down to scoop up socks strewn about.
I often wondered whether we had rushed into having a child. I knew affection could fade with time, but I hadnt expected it to happen so swiftly. He still brought me flowers and chocolates, yet all I wanted then was his presence.
It soon became clear his frequent outings were not innocent. A colleague mentioned, in passing, that a new young employee had joined our department. Staff were already thin, and when I went on leave the shortage grew acute. How ironic.
I wasnt certain it was her, but Edward certainly had someone; he never found a minute free. Work, a meeting, another corporate dinner something always came up. One day I found a slip of paper in his jacket pocket bearing initials I didnt recognise. I cant say what made me put it back, but I pretended not to notice.
It was terrifying to be alone in my seventh month of pregnancy, and yet Edward kept complaining that I was too nervous. Every argument ended with a sigh of disappointment from him. I somehow sensed that raising the issue would leave me on my own. The fear of losing him grew so strong that nothing else occupied my thoughts. As the old warning goes, fear can become a selffulfilling prophecy.
No matter how smoothly Edward had courted me, he was far from a gentleman. The worst words I ever heard were, Im not ready for a child, and, I have someone else. I cant even recall exactly how he said them, but in that moment I thought I was losing my mind.
I never believed I could summon the strength to ask for a divorce. It seemed he hadnt expected me to refuse his behaviour, nor that I would fling his things out the door the next day. I was grateful we lived in a rented flat at least we didnt have to share it with anyone else.
And the baby? What will you do with him?
Ill find a way. Ill work from home, and my parents have always offered help. Mother warned me he was a philanderer I should have listened.
Perhaps it was responsibility toward my unborn son that gave me courage. Alone, I never would have found the nerve to leave.
I also realised I did not 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 lifted from my eyes.
The first months after the divorce, including the birth, were extremely hard. I moved back in with my parents in Manchester, which delighted them, especially my grandparents who were overjoyed to have a grandson. I cant say I never missed Edward at all, but I tried not to think of him. Deep down I was certain I had made the right choice and that I could give my son everything he needed.
Then, unexpectedly, he resurfaced. Edward now claims he deeply regrets his deeds and wishes to meet his son. But do I want that? Perhaps I should truly move to another city, start anew.
