So, I don’t know if this is normal or not, but my husband’s ex-wife is making my life hell.
We live in this little town near Manchester where gossip spreads faster than wildfire. My life, which started off full of love, is now just a mess of worry and doubt. My name’s Emily, I’m 29, and I married James—a man who’d already been married before. We’ve got a son together, Oliver, and on paper, everything’s fine. But his ex-wife, Sophie—who still lives in our town—is like a shadow over my happiness. I don’t know if what’s happening is just… life, or if I’m losing my mind.
Love with baggage, right?
James won me over with his kindness and confidence. He’s ten years older than me, and his experience seemed like something solid to lean on. When we met, he’d been divorced for three years. His first marriage to Sophie lasted seven, no kids. He told me they split because she cheated, and I believed him. We got married two years ago, and soon after, Oliver came along—our little miracle. I thought the past was behind us. Turns out, I was wrong.
Sophie’s everywhere in this town. She works at the local café, shops at the same Tesco as me, and honestly? It feels like she knows everything about us. I’ve caught her looking at me with this icy glare when we bump into each other. At first, I brushed it off, but then things started happening that made me question everything.
Little things at first. Someone wrote “Give him back” in chalk on our fence. I wiped it off, didn’t tell James, but it shook me. Then came the anonymous messages online: “You took what wasn’t yours,” “He’ll come back to me eventually.” I blocked them, but the fear stuck. One day, I found an old photo of James and Sophie tucked under our door—all smiles, arms around each other. When I asked James about it, he just shrugged. “She’s probably lonely. Don’t let it get to you.”
But how do I *not* let it get to me when her shadow’s everywhere?
The worst was last month. I was out with Oliver in the park, and Sophie walked right up to me. Smiling, but with poison in her voice: “You think he’s yours? He still calls me at night.” I froze. She walked off, and I just stood there, numb. At home, I confronted James. He swore he hasn’t spoken to her, that she’s lying to mess with us. I *want* to believe him, but doubt’s eating at me. What if she’s telling the truth? What if he still loves her?
Now I’m stuck in this awful cycle. I check James’s phone when he’s asleep, watch his face when we pass the café where Sophie works. I hate myself for it, but I can’t stop. Oliver’s my joy, but even he can’t quiet the fear that our family’s hanging by a thread. My mum, seeing how wrecked I am, keeps saying, “Em, walk away. A man with that much baggage is trouble.” But I love James. He’s a good dad, a caring husband—but his past? It’s like a ticking bomb.
I tried talking to Sophie, messaged her, *begged* her to leave us alone. Her reply? “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. He’ll always be mine.” Her words are like poison, seeping in slowly. I don’t know if she’s lying, but her certainty terrifies me. Why won’t she let go? Why keep tormenting us? And why is James so calm, like this is just… normal?
I don’t know what *is* normal anymore. Maybe I’m overreacting? Maybe she’s just bitter and will give up soon? Or do I need to dig deeper and risk what I find? I’m terrified that if I start looking, I’ll uncover something that ruins everything. But I can’t live like this, waiting for the next blow. My friends say, “Ignore her, she’s just jealous.” But how do you ignore someone when their ghost is in every corner of your life?
James tries to reassure me. “Em, I’m with *you*. I love *you*.” But his words feel weaker every time. I see how he dodges talking about Sophie, changes the subject when I bring her up. Is that indifference, or is he hiding something? I don’t want to be *that* wife, digging through her husband’s past, but I don’t want to be the fool who’s lied to either.
So what do I do?
This is me screaming into the void. I don’t know how to fix this. Walk away from James? Confront Sophie? Talk to him again—but how do I make him be honest? I want to protect Oliver, our family, *myself*. But how, when I don’t even know what’s true? At 29, I imagined a happy little life. Now I feel like I’m in some twisted drama where the villain is a ghost from the past.
I don’t know if any of this is normal. But I do know this—I can’t keep living in fear. My next move might be a mistake, but I’ll make it *anyway*, just to find some peace. Sophie, James, my own heart—someone’s lying, and I *will* find out, even if it breaks me.
