Monday, 14th June
I still cant quite believe how far Ive come since those university days at Manchester. Back then I was head over heels for Emily, a bright-eyed student who seemed to embody everything Id ever wanted in a partner. It was a foolish, blind devotion, the sort of love that makes you think fate itself has drawn a line between you. I was still married to Sarah, but Id never really felt the weight of a marriage until I saw it crumble in front of me. When Emily decided to leave her boyfriend and start a life with me, I thought I was walking on clouds. Little did I know the storm that lay ahead.
We both ended up working for the same consultancy in London, our specialties perfectly aligned nothing unusual, theyd say. I told myself it was destiny. In my mind, Emily was the woman Id always dreamed of, and the fact shed never been married before made the whole affair feel oddly innocent. I didnt feel any shame when I walked away from Sarah; after all, who could have imagined the hurt that would follow? As the saying goes, you cant build your happiness on someone elses misery.
When she chose me, I was on top of the world and ready to forgive anything. Yet, behind the polished façade I presented at work, I was far from the perfect husband. My things littered every corner of our flat, and I outright refused to wash the dishes. All the household chores fell on Emilys shoulders, and at the time I didnt mind a bit.
Sarahs marriage had been a formality no children, just her parents insistence. With Emily, I promised a fresh start. The promise was shortlived, though. The moment I learned I was expecting a child, everything shifted. At first I was thrilled, and we even threw a proper family gathering at our flat, with friends from the office raising a toast to the soontobe baby. That night remains one of my fondest memories, and I have no regrets about the celebration.
As my belly grew, Emilys visits became rarer. I was on maternity leave, and evenings were the only time we saw each other. I stayed late at the office, attended endless corporate events, and thought my absence wouldnt matter. It did. The house grew messier, and Emily struggled to keep up with the endless piles of laundry and the stray socks I left everywhere. She began to wonder whether wed rushed into parenthood.
I kept sending her flowers and chocolates, but all she wanted was my presence. It soon became obvious that my frequent outings werent just workrelated. A new junior analyst, Hannah, had joined our department, and rumours started swirling in the break room. The team was already shortstaffed, and my absence during my leave only made things worse. I wasnt sure if Hannah was the one, but I certainly wasnt free an hour a day. One afternoon I slipped a slip of paper with unfamiliar initials into my coat pocket and pretended not to notice it later, hoping to keep the peace.
Being alone in the seventh month of pregnancy was terrifying, and Emily kept accusing me of being too nervous. Every argument ended with me sighing in disappointment, and I realised that opening the conversation would only leave me stranded. Fear of losing her drove me to silence a classic case of a worried mind becoming a selffulfilling prophecy.
The worst words I ever heard from myself were, Im not ready to be a father, and Theres someone else. I cant even recall the exact tone, but at that moment I thought I was losing my mind.
I never imagined Id muster the courage to ask for a divorce. Neither did Emily. The next morning I tossed all my belongings out of the flat. I was relieved that we rented, so I didnt have to share the place any longer.
And the baby? What will you do?
Ill make it work. Ill work from home, and my parents have offered to help. Mum always warned me that I was a bit of a philanderer I should have listened.
Perhaps it was my responsibility to my unborn son that finally gave me the strength to leave. Alone, I would never have found the resolve. Yet I also realised I never wanted to raise a child with a father like me.
His betrayal was so cowardly that I cut all ties. It felt as if a veil had lifted from my eyes.
The first months after the divorce, while giving birth, were grueling. I moved back in with my parents in Birmingham, much to the delight of my grandparents, who now had a grandson to dote on. I wont deny that I sometimes miss the life I once knew, but I try not to dwell on it. Deep down, Im convinced I made the right choice and that I can give my son everything he needs.
Now, just as Im settling into this new routine, Paulno, Davidhas resurfaced, claiming he deeply regrets everything and wants to meet his son. Do I want that? Perhaps its time to consider moving to a different city, start afresh, and let the past stay buried.
Lesson learned: building a life on someone elses shattered dreams only leads to ruin; true happiness must be forged from your own honest choices.
