I first met him when we started secondary school. We were both fifteen, and after a few months, we became a couple. In our penultimate year, a new girl joined the class. At the end of that school year, thanks to his usual carelessness, he left his phone behindand thats when I saw the messages between them. Suddenly, so many things made sense: whenever something happened to her, she would run to him in tears, and I always assumed it was just friendship.
I was very young, and afraid of losing the only person I believed truly loved me, so I kept quiet about many things. Thats how I ended up in the middle of our final year together, and just as I was ready to leave him, I found out I was pregnant. I cried my heart out. I knew difficult times were coming: my studies would have to wait, and my family would be terribly strict with meeverything I feared came true.
We finished school and our baby girl was born. He went off to university straight away, which meant he only visited every couple of weeks, while I felt desperately lonely and drained of any hope for the future beyond being a mum.
I thought, after graduation, this business with that girl would finally end, but even nowten years latershe keeps causing problems. Shes always reaching out to him, and even worse, he always responds warmly. For family occasions, graduations, or any kind of celebration, hed find some excuselike having nobody to watch our daughterjust so he could go alone. I realised that was just his justification to stay free and see her. I know there was never a physical affairnot because he didnt want it, but because she thrived on his attention, and when he was completely drawn in, shed ignore him.
Exhausted from confronting him about their messages, listening to endless promises that it would never happen again, I decided in 2021 to end things. I started therapy, worked from home, and treasured all the extra moments with my daughtersomething I hadnt been able to do before. When I left him, I honestly thought it was over. I told him I was done with that chapter. But he became insistent, trying to win me back. After six months of struggling on his own, I agreed to give him another chance, and to test his commitment, I suggested we move in together. He said yes. We saved up, bought everything wed need, and set up our home.
At first, I was genuinely happy. Finally, the three of us were living together properly, in a more serious way. But this February, I went to bed one night with a horrible feeling. I couldnt explain whyit all seemed finebut I couldnt sleep. Suddenly, overcome by a gut feeling, I took his phone and started scrolling.
It was probably the most painful moment Id ever experienced. By sheer chance, I opened a hidden chatnot even searching for her in particular, but as soon as I tapped a button, there it was, and my stomach just dropped. Reading through, I saw theyd been talking for months, and more than anything, he was begging her to meet up.
One piece of news after another hit me. Two months before we moved in together, at a school reunion, hed spent the whole night dancing with her, walked her home, and there asked for a kisswhich she refused. Hed texted his best mate that she was a wish and something impossible, while I was love and family. Worst of all, I found a letter he wrote to her in December of last yeara letter hed never dream of writing to me.
In this letter, he told her that his school years were beautiful because of her, that of the 3,000 nights that passed, hed thought of her for over 2,000. He wished theyd been a real couple, done all the things real couples dofelt the skin of her neck, seen her clothes on the floor, made love together. That it didnt happen only because he chose to step up as a father, to support me as a mum for the first time.
I went into shock reading all this. I couldnt stop shaking, felt freezing coldlike I was a stand-in, the person he was meant to stick with, not the one he actually wanted. There were nearly fifteen minutes of voice messages after the letter, which I didnt even try to listen to. My hands shook so hard I woke him up and told him to leave. It was midnight.
For the next few days, I put my head down: worked, did everything expected of me, took care of our now nine-year-old daughter. He went about like a machine: apologising endlessly, starting therapy himself, and I even forgave him. We decided to go through it all together. We clarified so much between us, and though things did improve in certain ways, the hurt left scars I still feel. My confidence was shattered. I struggle to look in the mirror and see the woman I was.
Now, we go out together more than ever, which is lovely in its way, but something inside me isnt right. Im not sure if its self-protection or fear; I just cant let myself get hopeful. I cant find that spark inside anymore, and I dont think he really sees it as a problem. We live together, barely argue, and when we do, we talk it through straight awayinitiated by both of us. But none of that brings back what we had.
Today, were a solid, caring, loving partnership, but Im left with an emptiness I cant ignore. Eleven years of feeling that fire, and for the past year its just not there. I feel lost.
Hes hard-working, full of ambition and goals. Hes attentive to our daughterlooking after her emotional wellbeing, really listening, playing with her, taking us out, making us laugh, spending real quality time together. We share all the bills and extras when we can treat ourselves. But despite everything weve built, a part of me still aches.
