After seven years of planning my wedding with the man of my dreams, he betrayed me!
My name is Catherine Frost, and I live in York, where the River Ouse winds its way past old houses. My story might seem simple to you, but it tears my heart apart. I was preparing to marry the person I believed was my destiny, yet he betrayed me in a way that still makes it painful to breathe.
James and I met seven years ago. No arguments, not a day without warmth and mutual respect. We were like two halves that formed a perfect whole. After four months, I moved into his place—we both wanted to be closer and not waste a moment apart. Together, we created countless memories that I will carry with me until my last breath. Sometimes, we played like children: laughing, playing, and playfully hiding from each other. At other times, we loved so intensely, as if there were no tomorrow—passionately, until we trembled and cried tears of joy.
I had never felt anything like this with anyone else. James was the real deal for me—strong, gentle, the one whose arms I wanted to sleep in and wake up in every morning for the rest of my life. August 8th became a day I will never forget. He woke me with breakfast in bed—warm croissants, aromatic coffee, and his smile. Then we made love slowly, as if time stood still. We were on holiday, enjoying our freedom and each other. We spent a week on the Isle of Wight—sea, sun, sunsets that felt magical. Everything was like a fairy tale.
On that day, while he was in the bathroom, someone knocked on the door. I opened it to find a stranger with a smile handing me a bouquet of red roses and a note: “I love you. J.” My heart leapt with joy. I thanked James for the surprise, kissed him, and we headed to the beach. But that was just the beginning. Downstairs at reception, another man handed me yet another rose. As we walked to the sea, six more people each gave me a flower. On the beach, I held a bouquet of seven roses—one for each year of our love. James just smiled and winked, “Wanted to surprise you.” We spent the day by the water, and as the sun set, we waded into the sea, kissing to the rhythm of the waves. Suddenly, he dropped to one knee right there in the water: “Catherine, will you marry me?” I was overwhelmed with happiness; tears streamed down my cheeks, my legs shook. “Yes!” I shouted, and the world spun in a dance.
Everything was fine until December. Before New Year’s, he went on a business trip to another city. He returned a week later—distant, cold, with a vacant look. For three days, I tried to understand what had happened, but he was silent. Finally, he broke down and admitted he had slept with a colleague. They drank, relaxed, and “it just happened.” My world collapsed. The man who swore I was his everything, who held me as if I were the only one in the world, betrayed me. It felt like a stab in the back. I cried, he cried too, tears rolled down his face, but they meant nothing.
The next day, I packed my things and left. He begged me to stay, held onto my hands, shouted that he loved me and that it was a mistake. But I couldn’t—inside, everything was dead. I slammed the door and walked out of his life. There were phone calls, long conversations, his tears and mine. But the pain didn’t go away—the betrayal burned like a red-hot iron. I still love him—so much that my heart feels like it’s breaking. But when I remember what he did, the tears choke me, and love mixes with hatred. We’ve met three times since the breakup. Each time, I want to run to him, hug him, kiss him, but I stop myself. I can’t. It’s like a poison I can’t swallow.
I want to go back to him—back to those days when he was my hero. But I’m scared he will break my heart again. This wound is bleeding, and I don’t know how to heal it. I walk the streets of York, seeing couples holding hands, and I feel like an empty shell. He was my everything, and now I’m alone with this love that suffocates me and this betrayal that won’t let me go. Please, help me with advice. I need to hear someone else’s opinion, to figure out what to do. Should I leave him in the past or give him a chance? The pain is unbearable, and I’m drowning in it, unable to see the shore. What should I do with this love that has become my torment?
