I was just nineteen when Simon, the young man Id been courting for a year, asked for my hand in marriage. Looking back, I suppose I knew deep down it was a bit hasty, and that the carefree days of going out with my friends and enjoying a simple laugh would soon be behind me. Yet Simon was such a steady and upstanding fellow. I suppose I was plagued by the fear of missing the chance at someone so dependable, so, despite my nerves, I agreed to become his wife.
After the wedding, I moved in with Simon and his family. My parents owned a grand old house just outside of Oxford, and kindly gave us the entire top floor to call our own. I should say, Simons parents were quite well-off themselves, and at that time Simon had a decent wage, so I could focus on my studies at university without worry.
Two years on, I bore a daughter. Simon was beside himself with happiness, but then, as life will, hardship came knocking. Simon suddenly lost his job. His parents offered him a place at the family business, but being fiercely independent, he insisted on forging his own path. Eventually, an old friend offered him work abroad, and Simon, hungry to prove himself, agreed.
We planned it carefullyhed be away for just a year. It was only to save enough for us to get by, perhaps even put a deposit on a home of our own in the city. But once Simon tasted the higher wages, things changed. He came home at the end of the year with grand stories and then announced hed signed up for another two. He wanted to return with enough to buy us a place so we would never need to rely on parents again. It was admirable in a way, yet what was to become of me and our daughter? Simon promised visits twice a year, and he kept that promise, but his work dragged onone year became five. I was left longing for a companions touch, and my heart grew restless.
Then, one day, a man a few years older than myself sent me a message on Facebook. He showered me with sweet flattery, told me I was beautiful, made me feel wanted. It sounds shallow now, but I hadnt heard such things from Simon in what felt like ages. We exchanged messages for a month, and eventually we met in person. That meeting changed everything. I was unfaithful to Simon. Its a truth Im not proud of, but I felt alive for the first time in years, and we met again a few times more.
As fate would have it, just two months later, Simon returned home for good. He spoke tender words to me, brought me the deeds to a small flat in town. My guilt became unbearable, so I confessedtold him Id betrayed him, not once but several times. And what did he do?
Simon turned me out of our home. For a fleeting moment, I considered turning to my lover, but he quickly found reasons to keep awaywork, other obligations, and endless excuses. I saw then Id been nothing more than a fleeting amusement to him. My husband has since filed for divorce; my daughter is with me now, back at my mothers house, though Simon threatens to claim her. I look back and wonder how I could have failed him so. My heart aches with regret for not waiting a little longer, for allowing myself to falter after all Simon had done.
