Money made me “younger.” Years later, my husband learned the truth and we divorced.
I was born in a small English village. After finishing Year Eleven, I enrolled in a catering college and completed my studies four years later. I then worked in a local pub as a chef, but after five years I realised that I wanted more from life. I was paid a pittance, barely enough to get by.
At work, I met Thomas, who lived in London and had the right connections in the city. I travelled to London and arranged to meet him. I asked him to help me get into university. He didnt refuse me, but said it would come at a cost. I had been saving for a while, so I paid a hefty sum for his help.
I also managed to buy a new set of documents. Back then, everything was still on paper, so it wasnt impossible. The new documents stated that I was five years younger, and my new certificates were all top marks.
Thanks to Thomass assistance, I got into university.
Everything changed after that. I found myself surrounded by a completely different crowd lively, youthful students. Just a year later, I got married. My husbands name was Mark and he was nineteen at the time. He came from the capital, and I moved in with his parents in their London flat.
After I finished my studies, the entire country started to shift. The old order crumbled. My husband and I started building our life from scratch. We rented a small space and opened a little gastropub. In time, we managed to buy it outright and became the owners of our own bar.
We lived quite well together, even if we never had children. One day, we decided to visit the village where I spent my childhood. I caught up with old schoolmates and friends. Of course, my life was very different from theirs, and I looked far younger and healthier. They envied me, and one of my old classmates let it slip to my husband that Id worked in a pub and was older than he believed.
From that point, Mark began to accuse me of deceiving him. He changed entirely, became heavy-handed with drink. We eventually divorced. We had to split our business. I bought myself a flat, while my ex-husband piled up bank loans at cut-throat rates after our split. Everything fell to pieces.
Now, even though Ive reached pension age, I still need to work. I often think about Thomas, who once told me I was being reckless faking documents. But no one can turn back time or undo the mistakes of their youth.
Recently, I visited my mother in the village and bumped into an old school friend. Shes been retired for two years, spending her days with her grandchildren and tending to her allotment. I, on the other hand, still have to work and my health is starting to fail. When were young, we make rash decisions that we end up paying for later in life.
I wonder if anyone can offer advice on how to fix the foolish choices I made all those years ago.
