My marriage seemed perfectly ordinary. Not like those picture-perfect ones you see plastered all over social media, but solid and dependable all the same. There werent blazing rows, no ridiculous jealousy, no strange red flags. He didnt fuss over hiding his phone, never came home late, never started acting out of character. Not once did I ever suspect anything unusual.
The woman he left me for worked with him. She was younger, single, no children. Id seen her a couple of times myself. Shed even been round at ours once, when his company held a get-together at our home. Shed greeted me politely, chatted as normal. I never noticed a thing out of place.
The conversationif you can even call it thathappened on a Friday evening. He came home from work, dropped his keys on the table, and said that we needed to talk. Then he sat across from me and went straight into it: told me he didnt love me anymore, that he was confused, that hed met someone else and was going to leave me for her. Said it wasnt my fault, and that I was a good wife, but being with her made him feel alive.
I asked him how long it had been going on. He told memonths. I asked how Id managed not to notice anything. He replied, simply, that was because hed been careful. That very night, he packed a few clothes and walked out. There was no shouting, no drawn-out argument, no half-hearted effort to fix things.
The months that followed were simply dreadful. I had no reliable income. The bills started arriving one after the otherrent, utilities, food. I began selling a few things around the house to make ends meet. Some days, I got by eating only once. On occasion, Id turn off the heating to save a bit. I cried, but had to pull myself together each morning and figure out how to keep going.
I searched for work, but couldnt get hired anywhere. They wanted recent experience or qualifications I no longer had. One day, out of sheer necessity, I baked a dessert and sold it to my neighbour. Then I made another, and another. Soon, I started offering them to people on WhatsApp. I would walk around, delivering and selling what Id made. Sometimes I came home having sold barely anything. Other times, it would all be gone.
Gradually, people started seeking me out. Id bake desserts late into the night and deliver them early in the morning. Thats how I covered the groceries at first. Then the bills, then the rent. It didnt happen overnight, and it was hardly easy. It took monthsmonths of exhaustion, little sleep, a constant struggle just to get by.
Thats still how I live. Im not well-off. But I manage. I dont have to rely on anyone else. The house isnt what it used to be, but its mine now. Hes still with the woman he left me for. Ive never spoken to him since.
If I learned anything through all this, it’s how to survive when you have no other option. Not because I wanted to be strong but because nobody else was going to do it for me.
