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’m truly in love. Not with someone my age, not with a man who has an established career and plenty of life experience. I’ve completely lost my head over a guy who’s fifteen years younger. And yes, instead of happiness, I’ve found betrayal, humiliation, and heartache. But oh, how I still love him…
Before meeting Victor, many would have called me a successful woman. I had a high position, a steady salary, a nice apartment in London, and my daughter Lily from my first marriage, who was already attending secondary school. I divorced my husband because of ambition—he wanted us to move to work in Spain, but I had just been promoted and refused to sacrifice my career. We separated amicably, without any drama. And I was quite content: freedom, independence, everything under control. Yet the years passed. There were fleeting romances, but nothing serious. Five years flew by before I realized the reflection in the mirror showed a grown woman with tired eyes.
Then, at a mutual friend’s birthday party, I saw him. Victor. Tall, athletic, with a grin that left me breathless. He was alone too. We flirted the entire evening, and in a strange moment of boldness, I invited him over for the weekend. My daughter was abroad with her father. We were on our own. It happened. Not just once. He started visiting more frequently. Sometimes at mine, sometimes in hotels. Victor lived with his mother and sister—it was odd, but I thought we had a future. After a few months, he moved in with me. We started living together.
I lost my mind. I bought him expensive watches, clothes, gadgets. I tried to please him in every way, just so he’d stay. He was young, handsome, desirable. And I increasingly felt my age. His sister—Megan—often came over. Sweet, attentive, she got along well with Lily. We even took her to the seaside with us. I suspected nothing. Megan seemed almost like a younger sister to me.
Then one day, I decided to surprise him. I took a day off without telling Victor and quietly returned home. And I heard… laughter. Male and female. I approached the bedroom—and saw them. Victor and Megan. Naked. In my bed. Megan wasn’t his sister. She’s his ex. Or current partner. I don’t know. I just froze. He later told me he loved me and that things with her were long over. But I had seen it with my own eyes! He begged forgiveness, saying she was ill and threatened to harm herself. That he couldn’t just end it abruptly with her. That he loved me—only me.
Three months have passed. He still lives with me. Cooks, cleans, takes care of things. But I can’t believe him. I can’t make him leave—my heart won’t allow it. But I can’t trust him either. I’m living in a hell of indecision. I look at my phone screen, and in every message, I see Megan’s shadow. I don’t know how to move forward. Could you let go of someone you love so deeply, even knowing they’ve betrayed you?..
