After her divorce, Mary took a long time to recover. She had loved her husband, John, with all her heart—that was just her nature. When she loved, she loved completely, giving everything to her husband and their son. Not that her son needed much explanation—every woman knows the one man she could never stop loving, no matter what, is her child.
Their son, Oliver, decided to pursue medicine after leaving school, dreaming of helping others. Mary had assumed he’d stay close, but he chose a university far from home. John barely seemed to care, indifferent as ever.
*”For goodness’ sake, Mary, if Oliver wants to be a doctor, let him. It’s his life, his business.”*
Oliver had dreamed of this since he was a boy.
*”Mum, you know I’ve always wanted to help people. This isn’t a surprise. I know you’d prefer me to stay close, but I’ve got to do this. I’ll visit when I can—I love you, you’re the best mum in the world. Just remember, I’ll always be there for you.”*
He left for his final term, and Mary reassured him:
*”Darling, I know I can always rely on you. Don’t worry about us—your father’s still here. We’ll be fine.”*
After university, Oliver married, found work in London, and soon had a daughter. Mary longed to see them more, but they were too far away—she could only wait for his visits.
She and John had been married twenty-five years. To the world, their life seemed perfect. Mary was bright, elegant, and kind—John had courted her relentlessly at university, though she’d had plenty of admirers. She was never one for arguments, smoothing over tension at home and work with grace. John, on the other hand, was brash and blunt—but she’d learned how to handle him. She’d even helped him build his car repair business, drafting the plan herself and supporting him every step.
One day, Mary met her friends, Emily and Claire, at a café—Emily was celebrating her first grandchild. The three had been close for years. Claire worked with Mary, while Emily, a homemaker, lived with her husband in a grand countryside home where they sometimes gathered.
Over tea, they chatted about life, children, and husbands—until Emily suddenly asked:
*”Mary… do you trust John completely?”*
Mary frowned. *”Of course. Why?”*
Emily and Claire exchanged glances before Emily continued: *”I’ve seen him a few times—at a café, then the supermarket—with a young woman. She was holding his arm. He didn’t notice me… seemed rather taken with her. Always the same girl.”*
Mary blinked, stunned. *”She could be from his office! He’s got a few employees—some are girls. He works late sometimes, but that’s just clients. He can’t turn them away.”*
Still, after that, Mary watched John more closely—asking why he was late, though she soon brushed it off.
Then, one day, a young woman arrived at their door—pregnant and smiling sweetly.
*”Good afternoon.”*
*”Hello. Can I help you?”* Mary asked politely.
*”You’re so pretty! You’re Mary, right? John told me his wife was older—ill, even.”* The girl tittered. *”You are Mary? His wife?”*
*”Yes. Quite healthy, as you see. And you are?”*
*”I’m Hannah. I’m pregnant with John’s baby. We’ve been together a while. He keeps promising to tell you, but never does. He says he’ll leave you—we’ll marry before the baby comes.”*
Mary stood frozen as Hannah prattled on: *”I was shocked to see you—I expected some old woman. John’s nearly fifty, but of course, he’s still fit. I just thought his wife would be… well, ancient.”*
*”How old are you?”* Mary managed, forcing calm.
*”Twenty-one. We met online—like everyone does now.”*
*”And at twenty, you chose a man pushing fifty? Our son is twenty-five!”*
*”Oh, don’t lecture me. I wanted an older man with money. How else would I raise a child? So, let him go. He doesn’t love you—he says you won’t give him a divorce.”*
Mary exhaled. *”Fine. Take him.”* She ushered Hannah out, shutting the door before collapsing on the sofa, sobbing.
By the time John returned, she’d composed herself—and confronted him coldly.
*”Hello, darling. See that suitcase? Take it and leave.”*
*”Mary—what? Why?”* His eyes darted nervously.
*”Hannah paid me a visit. You’re free. Go.”*
*”But I don’t want to leave!”*
She opened the door, watching his confusion. *”You stomped on my love, my loyalty. I won’t see you again.”*
A month later, they met at a café—John wanted to split their house, bought by Mary’s father.
*”You keep the business, I keep the house. Or we divide everything—but you won’t get the house either way. My father can step in if you’d prefer.”*
John backed down.
Six months later, Mary had adjusted to solitude, though she sometimes wondered: *”What have I learned? Never love a man more than yourself. He won’t value your care. The more I gave, the more he took for granted.”*
She packed for a visit to Oliver, excited to spoil her granddaughter.
*”My life’s good. Getting better. No point dwelling on the past.”*
At the station, a silver-haired man caught her eye—his gaze warm but weary. Later, he approached.
*”Excuse me—I’m James. May I ask your name?”*
*”Mary.”* His grey eyes held kindness, confidence.
*”May I drive you home? I’m just back from a work trip.”*
They talked like old friends. James had been alone six years—his wife and daughter had passed in an accident.
A year later, on his fiftieth birthday, he proposed publicly.
With James, Mary felt truly safe—finally understanding what it meant to have a man who shielded her from life’s storms. She’d never imagined such love existed.
