He often travels for work, and Ive gotten used to it by now. He replies to my messages late, comes home looking exhausted, and tells me hes had endless meetings. I dont go rifling through his phone or bombard him with unnecessary questions. I trust him.
One day, Im folding laundry in the bedroom. He sits down on the bed, not even bothering to take off his shoes, and says,
I need you to listen to me, without interrupting.
Right then, I sense something is off. He tells me hes been seeing another woman.
I ask who she is. He hesitates for a moment, then tells me her name. She works near his office, he says, and shes younger than him. I ask if hes in love. He admits hes not sure, but says that with her, he feels different, less worn out. I ask if hes planning to leave. His answer:
Yes. I dont want to pretend anymore.
He sleeps on the sofa that night. The next morning, he leaves early and doesnt return for two days. When he finally comes back, hes already spoken to a solicitor. He says he wants a divorce as quickly as possibleno drama, he insists. He starts explaining what hell take and what hell leave behind. I listen, silent. Within a week, Im no longer living there.
The months that follow are tough. Suddenly, everything we used to sharebills, paperwork, decisionsI have to handle alone. I start going out more, not out of desire, but because I need to get out of the house. I accept every invitation, just to avoid being swallowed by the silence at home.
During one of these outings, while queuing for coffee, I strike up a casual conversation with a man. We talk about the weather, the crowds, the endless waitingnothing special.
We find ourselves looking for each other after that. One afternoon, sitting at a tiny table, he tells me his age: hes fifteen years younger than me. He says it openly, not as a joke or a challenge. He asks how old I am and continues the conversation as if age makes no difference. He asks me out again, and I accept.
Everything with him feels different. There are no sweeping promises or sweet talk. He checks how Im really doing, listens to me, sits with me as I grapple with the divorce, never rushing me to change the subject. One day he tells me, quite plainly, that he likes meand that he knows Im going through something complicated. I tell him I don’t want to repeat old mistakes or become dependent on anyone again. He reassures me: hes not looking to control me or to rescue me.
My ex hears from someone else about this new man in my life. After months of silence, he rings me up. He asks if its true, if I’m seeing someone younger. I say, Yes. He asks if Im not ashamed. I tell him that the only shameful thing was his betrayal. He hangs up without saying goodbye.
I divorced because he left me for another woman. But laterquite by chanceIve found myself next to someone who loves and values me.
Is this fates gift?
