I recognized my faults and tried to go back to my exwife after three decades, only to find it was already too late.
My name is Miguel Carvalho, I live in Almeirim where the gray Ribatejo days stretch across the fields. Im 52, with nothing leftno spouse, no family, no children, no jobjust an emptiness like a cold wind in an abandoned house. I ruined everything I once had and now stand amid the wreckage of my own making, staring into the abyss I dug with my own hands.
I spent thirty years with my wife Helena. I was the breadwinner, working to support the family while she kept the home. I liked having her at home, not having to share her with the outside world. Over time, however, her habits, her voice, her care began to irritate me. Love faded, swallowed by routine. I told myself that was normal, that this was how things should be, and I grew comfortable in that dull stability. Then fate threw a challenge my way that I could not meet.
One evening at a café I met Júlia. She was 32, twenty years younger, beautiful, lively, with a spark in her eyes. She seemed like a dream realized, a breath of fresh air in my stagnant life. We started dating, and in a short span she became my lover. For two months I led a double life until I realized I no longer wanted to return home to Helena. I had fallen for Júliaor at least it felt that wayand I wanted her to become my wife, my new destiny.
Summoning courage, I confessed everything to Helena. She didnt scream, didnt smash dishesshe simply looked at me with empty eyes and nodded. I assumed she didnt care either, that her feelings had long since died. Now I see how much I hurt her. We divorced. We sold the apartment where our children had grown up, every corner packed with memories. Júlia demanded that I leave nothing for Helena. I obeyedtook my share and bought a spacious twobedroom flat for her. Helena received a tiny onebedroom unit, and I gave her no financial help. I knew she had no job and no means to survive, but I didnt care. Our sons, Rui and Daniel, cut ties, calling me a traitor. At that moment I didnt mind: I had Júlia, a new life, and thought that was enough.
Júlia became pregnant, and I waited anxiously for our child. When the boy was born, however, I noticed he didnt resemble either of us. Friends whispered, my brother warned me, but I pushed the thoughts away. Life with Júlia turned into a nightmare. I worked to exhaustion, supporting the house, the child, while she demanded money, disappeared at night, returned drunk, smelling of alcohol. The home was chaotic, there was no food, arguments erupted over trivialities. I lost my jobfatigue and rage took their toll. I lived in that torment for three years until my brother coaxed me into taking a DNA test. The result hit me like a hammer: the boy wasnt mine.
The moment I learned the truth, I divorced Júlia. She vanished, taking whatever she could carry. I was left aloneno wife, no children, no strength. I decided to return to Helena, buying flowers, wine, a cake, and approaching her like a repentant dog. Her modest house already had another occupant; the new owner gave me her new address. I arrived trembling with hope, only for a man to open the door. Helena had found a job, married a colleague, and seemed happyalive, radiant, the way I had never seen her. She rebuilt her life without me.
Later I saw her in a café. I fell to my knees, begging her to come back. She looked at me as if I were a foolish, pitiful creature and left without a word. Now I recognize the idiot I was. Why did I abandon the woman I spent thirty years with? Why did I trade my family for a young woman who drained and abandoned me? For an illusion, for blind faith in love? At 52, I am an empty shell. My sons ignore my calls, my job slipped away like sand through my fingers. I lost everything dear to me, and I am solely to blame.
Every night I dream of Helenaher calm eyes, her voice, her warmth. I wake to the cold loneliness and understand that I pushed her out of my life. She wont wait, wont forgive, and I dont deserve forgiveness. My mistake is a scar that burns my soul. I would turn back time if I could, but its too late. Too late. Now I wander the streets of Almeirim like a ghost hunting for what I destroyed. I have nothingonly regret, which will accompany me until my last day. I shattered my family, my life, and I bear that weight alone, knowing there is nothing left to fix.
