28October
I sat in the counsellors office and she looked straight at me. Emma, you and your husband share equal blame for the breakup, she said.
Me? No! Hes the one who tore the family apart, I snapped, feeling my cheeks flush.
She kept her tone steady. In a divorce the fault is split 5050, not 9010 or 6040. You both failed to build a proper partnership. Her words settled over me like a cold blanket.
What am I supposed to do? I asked, my voice trembling. I have two girls. Their father loves them, but I cant stand him. How do I move forward? I wanted to cling to her, to believe she held some magic wand that could set everything right.
She sighed gently. First, calm down, Emma. You cant sprint through this or youll collapse. Who will look after the children? They need a stable mother, not a hysterical one. Are you thinking of entering a new relationship?
Never, I said flatly, tears welling. Im not ready to be disappointed again.
She gave me a soft smile. Dont rush. Youre still young; theres a whole life ahead of you. Why did you marry in the first place?
For happiness, I whispered, the tears now spilling over.
Exactly. Everyone chases that big, bright happiness, yet so many couples end up divorcing. School taught us maths, not marital wisdom. The result? Couples rush into marriage, then rush out with tears, while the years slip by unnoticed. Youth fades fast.
I tried for the family, I confessed. I put up with Mark for fifteen years while he floated through life like a daisy, never noticing the thorns. He grew stale, and I cant stand to see him any longer. Our love is shattered. I needed to unload everything.
She leaned forward, eyes twinkling. I have an idea, Emma. Are you willing to try an experiment?
What sort of experiment? I perked up, curiosity mixing with desperation.
Everyone eventually wants a new partner, even if only after a pause. Find a practice boy, so to speak, and learn the ropes of a relationship again. Itll be a safe space to relearn how to live with a man and feel comfortable.
And where am I supposed to find such a fool? I asked, halflaughing.
You dont have to look. Your practice boy can be your exhusband.
How can that be?
Think of it as a test. Youre not attached to him; you could even let him go. Its a winwin, Emma. Her conviction was oddly reassuring.
So I gave it a go. I had nothing to lose. I didnt really miss Mark; let him drift away.
Mark had become such a nuisance that I packed my two girlsLucy and Graceand moved into a rented flat in Manchester. The court case went through, the divorce was final. Mark tried to beg me to stay, to buy time, but I burned every bridge.
For a while I was alone. After fifteen years of marriage I craved solitude. Mark started sending cheap gifts, flowers, even invited me to a spa, a lastditch attempt at attention. I was exhausted. He still couldnt accept that it was over.
When Lucy and Grace settled into the new flat, I felt a strange lift, as if Id finally found a slice of heaven, floating on clouds. Yet the girls dragged me back to reality.
Mum, why is Dad at fault? Lucy asked, eyes wide.
I was stunned. How could I explain that there was no future with their father, that his words were wind, that life with him felt cramped and colourless, a grey painting? Thats when I decided to see a counsellor again, to get some direction.
The experiment began. A month after the split I called Mark.
Hey, how are you? Fancy meeting up? I have a few things to ask, I said.
Emma? Sure, whenever you like, he replied, his voice bubbling with relief.
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, planting a quick kiss on my cheek. I handed the girls a small treat.
Back at the flat, I peered out the window and saw Mark still standing outside. I waved; he sent a playful airkiss.
Those lowkey dates with my ex turned out to be just fineno shouting, no broken dishes, just a gentle colour returning to my days.
We started seeing each other once a month: coffee, a film, a walk in the park. My life began to feel stitched together with tiny threads of joy. I thought I might finally weave a new path with Mark.
A year later, I asked, Mark, are we meeting today?
Sorry, Emma, Im swamped. Ill call you when Im free, he said, hanging up.
That happened three or four times. My nerves tightened. Had someone else taken his place? Was he genuinely busy? Jealousy crept in, and I needed answers.
I rang him again. Mark, the girls miss you. Lets take them to the zoo.
Emma, Im at the hospital with my wife, he sighed into the phone.
What wife? Are you joking? I snapped, hurt and angry.
No joke, he replied. Were expecting a baby with Lily.
I was left speechless, the words draining away. All I could manage was, Goodbye. I wish you a cloudfree happiness.
