I fell in love at forty, and he turned my life upside down… yet I can’t let him go.
I’m forty, and I’ve truly fallen in love. Not with a peer, nor with a man who has a well-established career and considerable life experience. I’ve lost my heart to a guy fifteen years my junior. And yes, instead of finding happiness, I’ve faced betrayal, humiliation, and pain. But, Lord, I still love him so much…
Before meeting Oliver, I was what many would call a successful woman. I held a high-ranking position, earned a stable income, and owned a nice flat in London. My daughter, Sophie, from my first marriage, was already attending secondary school. I divorced my husband due to our differing ambitions—he wanted to move for work in Spain, but I’d just been promoted and refused to sacrifice my career. We parted ways amicably without any drama. I embraced the freedom and independence, feeling as though everything was under control. But the years went by. There were fleeting romances, but nothing serious. Five years passed, and I barely noticed the reflection of an older woman with tired eyes staring back at me.
Then, at a mutual friend’s birthday party, I met him. Oliver. Tall, athletic, with a smile that took my breath away. He was alone too. We flirted all evening, and—I don’t know what came over me—I invited him over that weekend. My daughter was abroad with her father. We spent the weekend together. It happened, more than once. Oliver started visiting more frequently, sometimes staying at mine, at other times in hotels. He lived with his mum and sister—odd, but it felt like our life was just beginning. A few months later, he moved in with me. We started living together.
I went out of my mind. I bought him expensive watches, clothes, gadgets—did everything to make him stay. He was young, handsome, desirable. Meanwhile, I felt myself aging. His sister, Daisy, often visited us. Sweet, attentive, she got along well with Sophie. We even took her on holiday with us. I suspected nothing. Daisy seemed more like a younger sister to me than to him.
Then, one day, I decided to surprise him. Took a day off without telling Oliver and quietly returned home. I heard laughter—both female and male. I approached the bedroom—and there they were. Oliver and Daisy. Naked. In my bed. Daisy wasn’t his sister. She was his ex. Or maybe still his current partner—I can’t say. I froze on the spot. Later, he said he loved me and that it was all over with her. But I’d seen it with my own eyes! He begged for forgiveness, said she was unwell, had threatened to harm herself. That he couldn’t just break ties with her immediately. That he loves only me.
Three months have passed. He still lives with me. He cleans, cooks, takes care of things. But I don’t believe him. I can’t throw him out—my heart won’t let me. Yet I can’t trust him anymore. I’m living in a hell of uncertainty. I stare at my phone screen, and in every message from him, I see Daisy’s shadow. I don’t know how to move on. Could you let go of someone you love so deeply, even knowing they’ve betrayed you?..
