Id been with my girlfriend for five years. We lived in different cities thanks to work the classic British romance, separated by dual carriageways and dodgy train timetables but we spoke every day. We had plans. Serious ones. I was genuinely considering proposing just to settle the whole long-distance nonsense. I trusted her, really. Shed never given me any obvious reason to doubt.
Then, out of the blue, my phone rang one afternoon a number I didnt know. Ever the optimist, I picked up. On the line was a calm, well-spoken bloke. Introduced himself with all the polite reserve of a BBC newsreader.
Look, mate, he said, straightforward as a buttered scone, I dont want any trouble. I just think theres something you should know.
Turned out hes a systems engineer, recently started going out with a woman. Nothing dramatic: a few texts, coffees, the usual slightly awkward flirtation phase. Shed never mentioned being with anyone. All seemed well, until he got a feeling that something just didnt add up.
So, he chatted with a mate, who happened to be seeing someone too. He mentioned her name. The friend went awfully quiet and asked to see a photo. Once hed had a look, he said something that practically knocked the wind out of Mr Engineer.
Step away from that woman, mate. Shes had a boyfriend for five years and its very official.
According to this friend, it wasnt a rumour. Loads of people knew about it. He even managed to describe me that I lived in another city, that she worked locally, which allegedly made allowances for her behaviour. Just to twist the knife, he said she was dating yet another man, also an engineer. This third chap apparently knew she had a boyfriend (me), and bluntly couldnt care less.
At that moment, the caller realised this wasnt a simple mix-up. He was chatting to a woman running three relationships at once: me, the other engineer who was fully in the loop, and himself, blissfully oblivious until now.
He told me, once hed worked it all out, he reckoned there should be some kind of male solidarity, if women were allowed to have theirs, so here he was. He tracked me down through social media and thought it better to ring than to message, just so I knew it wasnt a scam. He even offered, If you want proof, just say. Ive got nothing to hide.
Of course, I said yes. I hung up, and minutes later my phone pinged until it nearly overheated: screenshots, voice notes, pictures, a string of planned meet-ups. The way she spoke to him was almost a carbon copy of how she talked to me. Same lines, same compliments, identical promises of someday.
The feeling in my chest was like ten tight ties at once. Id loved her. Id started mentally moving my life around hers. I was on the verge of changing cities, proposing, the whole tote bag of dreams.
I rang her up and put her on the spot. She didnt deny a word. First, she tried to shrug it off like nothing. Then she got angry about people interfering. Next, the waterworks started. Claimed she was confused, didnt know what she wanted, and never imagined Id find out like this.
Well, I hung up.
And thats when it finally hit me: its not just men who cheat. There are women out there who lie with military precision, juggle a handful of relationships and know exactly what theyre doing.
Yes, I lost a relationship, but I am genuinely grateful to that chap someone who didnt even know me for having the decency to let me know. Otherwise, Id probably be engaged by now to someone running a double (or triple) life without a flicker of conscience. So heres to male solidarity occasionally, it really does save the day.
