Now I see what Ive done. I wanted to go back to my ex-wife, the woman I spent thirty years with, but it was already too late
Im 52 now. And I have nothing. No wife, no family, no children, no jobnothing at all.
My names William. I lived with my wife for three decades. I always earned enough to provide for us, and she took care of the home. I didnt want her to workI liked her being there. But over time, she started to grate on me.
We lived together, respecting each other, but the love faded. I thought it was normal. It suited me. Then everything changed. One evening, in a pub, I met Emily. She was twenty years youngerbeautiful, kind, funny. Like a dream come true.
We started seeing each other, and soon she became my mistress. Two months later, I realised I didnt want to lie to my wife anymore. I didnt want to go home after work. I knew I loved Emily and wanted her to be my wife.
A few days later, I told my wife the truth. She didnt make a scene. She stayed calm. I thought she didnt love me either, thats why she took it so well. Only now do I understand how much I hurt Margaret.
We divorced. We sold the flat where wed spent so many years together. Emily insisted I shouldnt let my ex-wife keep itso I didnt. Margaret bought a small flat. With my savings, I bought a two-bedroom place for Emily.
I didnt help my ex-wifedidnt give her a penny. I knew she had no money, that she wouldnt find work right away. But back then, I didnt care. Our sons refused to speak to me. They knew Id betrayed their mother and couldnt forgive me.
At the time, it didnt bother me. Emily was pregnant, and we were excited for the baby. Soon, a son was born. But the boy looked nothing like meor Emily. My mates doubted he was mine. I ignored them.
Life with Emily was a mess. I worked long hours, ran the house, looked after the child. Emily only ever asked for money and was always out somewhere. The place was a tip, meals were never ready. Shed come home at three or four in the morning, reeking of booze, picking fights over nothing.
In the end, I lost my job. I was exhausted, angry, doing shoddy work. Three years passed like that. Then my brotherwho never liked Emily and questioned if the boy was mineforced me to take a DNA test. Turned out, he wasnt my son.
We divorced straight after the truth came out. By then, I had no contact with my wife or sons. After splitting with Emily, I decided to go back to Margaret. I bought flowers, wine, a cakeand went to her place. But she wasnt there. The new owner gave me her address.
I went. A man answered the door. Turned out, Margaret had found a good job and married a colleague. She was happy. Content.
A while later, I bumped into her at a café. I asked her to come back. She looked at me like I was a fool and walked away. Now I understand the mistake I made. What did I want? What did I gain? Why did I leave my wife for some young girl?
Im 52 now. And I have nothing. No wife, no job, and even my sons wont speak to me. Ive lost everything that ever mattered. And its all my fault. Worst of allI can never fix it.
