24November2025
Dear Diary,
Whats with you and that Poppy? Why on earth did you settle for a wife like her? Shes had the baby, put on a few stone, now she waddles about like a blimp. Do you really think shell slim down? Keep waiting, itll only get worse, you know.
I tried to laugh it off, telling myself I liked the way shes filling out now. She used to be as thin as a matchsticknow shes got curves that I can actually see.
My old school mate Nigel slapped my shoulder and warned me not to get carried away. Mate, who cares what you fancy. Youll turn up at the New Years office party with her and youll be too ashamed to meet the lads eyes. Youre a tall, broad bloke. A womans prime might be short, but us men? Were still eligible bachelors at any age! he said.
I shook my head. Still, the thought nagged that perhaps Id lingered too long in this marriage. I used to be a bit of a philanderer until Poppy changed mecalm, beautiful, kind, caring. Her cooking is so good you cant pull yourself away from the plate. Ive put on about ten pounds since we tied the knot, and weve just welcomed a baby.
Nigel laughed, Youve got to swap out a wife like old tyres! I divorced mine and now Im with Lucyyoung, fit. If anything goes wrong, Ill trade her in for another! His words kept turning over in my mind, and I began to wonder whether Id really overstayed my welcome.
One evening, I started to tell Poppy, Poppy, youve, uh, put on but she cut me off, clutching our sleeping infant against her chest, eyes widening.
And what of it? Ive gained five kilosso what? Im the one looking after the baby, halfasleep, working from home, handling the bills, the utilities, the grocery shop, the cooking, the laundry. And you want to nag me about a handful of kilos? she snapped.
It hit her like a burst pipe; tears welled up as she felt my disregard for everything shed been doing. Why are you fixating on the weight? I brought a human into the world, and youre whinging about kilos! she said, sniffling as she retreated to the nursery. I sat there, wondering if a different wife would silence the shouting.
Day after day, Nigels suggestions lodged deeper. Look at Lucy from the second floorshes single, gorgeous, athletic. She belongs in a painting! Beside her, youre barely a work of art, hed say, strolling over to the water cooler where Lucy lingered, glancing at colleagues. I hadnt seen the fire he claimed, but Nigel was convinced he knew better.
Youll come home and a woman like that will be waitingheels, lingerie, the whole lot. Yours will probably be in a robe smeared with baby spitup. Youre getting on in years; soon itll be harder to find a girl, he added, patting my shoulder before heading back to his desk, chuckling over a few lewd jokes aimed at Lucy.
I visited Mum, hoping for some support. Marjorie, ever the protective mother, scolded me: You little wretch, your wife gave you a child, she works, runs the whole house, shes a beautyand you turn up your nose? You men are all the same, always hunting like wolves, never valuing what you have until youre old and alone, howling at the moon. Her words flew past me as I kept stealing glances at Lucy, convinced Nigel might be right. Time was tickingId never meet a girl that young again.
One night, after another sleepless shift, I sat opposite Poppy as she rocked the baby. Dark circles marred her eyes, her skin no longer the smoothness of a few years ago. I realised I loved her, yet the fear of missing my male chances gnawed at me.
Poppy, I think we should split. Youve changed since the birth. Ive had a lot of thoughts, maybe its time, I stammered, grasping for softer words, feeling foolish as if Id been duped by a phone scam.
She didnt answer at first, just looked into my tired eyes with only weariness, no anger. She placed the baby in the cot, packed two suitcases, and walked out into the hallway. I wanted to shout, to drop to my knees, to beg, but the thought of embarrassing myself in front of Nigel held me back.
You know what, Thomas maybe you should live on your own for a whilewithout me, without the boy. When you had that accident and were bedridden, I cared for you for a year. I worked, handled the chores, borrowed money, paid it off. I never hinted at divorce. And you throw me out over five miserable pounds, she said, her steps fading.
The next day at work, everything slipped from my hands. Nigel bounced around, clapping me on the back, Well, thats thatoff you go and flirt with Lucy. Shes a stunner, otherwise Ill steal her from you. He laughed, but I felt nothing but a hollow ache.
I finally said, Nigel, I was an idiot to listen to you. I had a wife any bloke would envy, a son, a good family. I dont need your young chicks.
You sound like a henpecked husband, not a man, he retorted.
And a man to you is someone who ditches his wife and child? Or a lad who cant keep his pants on, hopping from one girl to the next? A man who cant stay faithful and bolts the instant a skirt swishes? I shouted, the anger spilling out.
Our argument erupted, and I realized I could no longer keep him as a friend. With a best mate like that, Id rather have no enemies at all.
That evening I bought a massive bouquet, knelt before Poppy, and begged forgiveness, admitting Id been swayed by false tales. She forgave me; we moved back into our flat and tried to rebuild. It felt as if I loved her more than ever. The kilos, the tired looknone of that mattered any longer. I began sharing the load: nighttime feeds, laundry, cooking, even joining a gym with her.
Slowly, step by step, our relationship found its old rhythm. I swore I would never let vanity or a mates chatter steer me again. The lesson is clear: think for yourself, value what you have, and never let anyone else rewrite your story.
