Emma, you and your husband share the blame for the split, the therapist said, looking straight into my eyes.
Im the one at fault? No! Hes the one who tore the family apart! I snapped.
Listen, Emma, when a couple divorces the responsibility is usually split right down the middle5050. Its not 9010 or 6040. You just didnt manage to build a healthy partnership, Dr. Collins replied, calm and confident.
What am I supposed to do? Ive got two girls. Their dad loves them, but I cant stand my husband. How do I move forward? I hoped desperately that she had some magic wand to set everything straight.
First thing, take a breath, Emma. You cant rush into the next chapter at breakneck speedyoull burn out. Whos going to look after the kids? They need a steady mum, not a whiner. Are you even thinking about new relationships? she asked.
Never in a million years! I cant be disappointed again, I muttered, tears welling up.
Dont be hasty. Youre still young, your whole life lies ahead. Why did you marry in the first place?
For happiness, I whispered, sobbing.
Exactly. Everyone wants that big, beautiful happiness, but far too many end up in divorce. School teaches us maths, not the art of marriage. The result? People rush into marriage, then run off in tears when it falls apart. And the yearsthose golden yearsjust slip away.
I gave everything to the family! I put up with my husband for fifteen years while he was as passive as a stone. He never noticed the good things I did. Im fed up. I cant even look at him. Our love is shattered, I vented.
Let me suggest an experiment, Emma. Are you willing? Dr. Collins smiled mischievously.
What kind of experiment? I perked up.
Youll probably want to try a new relationship soon. Take a break first. Find a practice boyfriend, so to speak, and work on the skills of living with a man. Make it comfortable for you, she said, raising an eyebrow.
And where on earth would I find such a fool? I asked, bewildered.
You dont have to look far. Your practice boyfriend could beyour exhusband.
My what? I stared.
Well, you dont care about him any more. If he dumps you, who cares? Its a winwin, Emma.
I thought about it. I wasnt risking anything. I didnt feel sorry for Peter, so why not let him go to hell?
Peter had become such a nuisance that I packed my daughters, Lucy and Grace, and moved into a flat in Manchester. We went through the courts, the divorce was final, and Peter kept begging me to stay, to wait. I burned every bridge behind me. I didnt have any men on my radar; after fifteen years of marriage I craved solitude.
Peter went into overdrive, sending cheap gifts, bouquets, even trying to book a spa day for us. A belated wave of attention washed over me, and I was exhausted. He couldnt accept that it was over.
When I first settled into the new flat, I felt an instant liftas if Id finally stepped into paradise, floating on clouds. But the girls brought me back down to earth.
Mum, whats Dads fault? Lucy asked.
I was stunned. How do I explain to my little ones that theres no life with their father, that his words are just wind? My world felt cramped, grey, suffocating. Thats when I decided to revisit Dr. Collins for some guidance.
So the experiment began. A month after the split I rang Peter.
Hey, how are you? Fancy meeting up? I have a few things Id like to discuss, I said.
Megan? You? Of course, meet me whenever you like! Peter practically squealed.
We met in a park, sitting on a bench. He kept edging closer, trying to take my hand. We talked about nothing at all. No heavy questions. He walked me home, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and handed Lucy and Grace some sweets.
I peeked through the window as he lingered outside. I waved, he sent a playful kiss its way. Those little dates with my ex werent bad at allno shouting, no broken plates, just a hint of colour returning to my life.
We started seeing each other once a monthcoffee, the cinema, a stroll in the park. My days began to feel stitched together with joy. I even started dreaming about a future that included Peter in some way.
A year went by.
Peter, are we on for tonight? I asked, hopeful.
Sorry, Megan, Im swamped. Ill call you when Im free, he replied, hanging up.
That happened three or four times. I grew jittery. What was going on? Had someone else slipped into his life? Jealousy bubbled up. I needed answers.
I called him again.
Peter, the girls miss you. Lets take them to the zoo, I suggested.
Emma, Ive got a wife in the maternity ward, he blurted out.
What wife? Are you mocking me? I shouted into the phone.
No joke, Emma. Were expecting a baby with Lily, he said, deadpan.
I was speechless. All I could manage was, Goodbye then. I wish you a cloudfree happiness.
