Jealousy ruined me: The moment I saw my wife stepping out of another mans car, I lost control and destroyed everything
I stood at the window, clutching my glass of whisky so tightly my knuckles turned white. The clock on the wall ticked menacingly, each second feeling longer than the last.
It was late. Far too late.
Then I saw the headlights.
A black Jaguar slowed and stopped outside the flats. My breath caught in my chest. Behind the wheel was a mantall, confident, a stranger I’d never seen before.
Next, the passenger door opened.
And my wife stepped out.
My stomach twisted. She was smilinga genuine, warm smile I hadnt seen on her for ages. She leaned towards the driver, said something, and he laughed. Laughed.
A few moments later, she closed the door and headed for the entrance, the car driving off down the road.
I could feel my blood boiling.
How long had this been going on? How many nights had I gone to bed, thinking all was well, while she came home from another mans car?
The front door opened, and she strolled in, completely unbothered, tossing her handbag onto the table.
Who was that? My voice was low and threatening.
She froze mid-step and stared at me, looking shocked. What?
The man in the car. Who was he?
She let out an exasperated sigh, Oh, for goodness sake, James. Thats Sarahs husbandhe gave me a lift home. Whats wrong with you?
But I wasnt listening anymore.
I couldnt hear anything over the thundering of blood in my ears, the poisonous thoughts racing through my mind.
Then, I lifted my hand.
The sound of my palm hitting her cheek split the silence in the room.
She stepped back, holding her face. A thin line of blood appeared at the edge of her nose.
A heavy silence fell.
Her eyes widened, and in them I saw something I had never seen before. Fear.
My heart clenched.
I had crossed a line.
A line from which there was no return.
She didnt scream. She didnt cry. She didnt say a word. She merely grabbed her coat from the chair and walked out.
The next morning, the divorce papers came through.
I lost everythingincluding my son
Ive put up with your jealousy for years, she told me during our last conversation, her voice cold and empty. But I will never tolerate violence.
I begged her to forgive me. Swore it was a mistake. That it wasnt who I was. That it would never happen again.
But none of it mattered anymore.
And then came the final blow: In court, she claimed Id been aggressive with our son.
A lie.
A dirty, cruel lie. Id never raised my voice to him, never once touched him in anger.
But who would believe me? A man whod struck his wife?
The judge didnt even hesitate.
She got full custody.
Me? Only a few hours each week. One supervised visit in a neutral place.
No more home. No more evenings tucking him in. No more breakfasts in the morning.
For six months, my life revolved around those meagre hours.
Those precious moments when hed run up to me, laughing, grabbing a hug, regaling me with stories.
And every time, I had to let him go. Watch him walk away, while I was left standing alone.
Then one day, he told me something that changed everything.
The truth my five-year-old son told me
He was growing. Becoming more observant. More curious.
And one afternoon, while quietly playing with his little cars, he said to me in his most innocent voice:
Daddy, last night Mummy wasnt home. A lady came to look after me.
I froze.
A lady? What lady? I asked, trying to sound calm.
I dunno. She comes whenever Mummy goes out at night.
My heart skipped a beat.
Where does Mummy go?
He shrugged, She doesnt tell me.
My hands were shaking.
I started digging for the truth. I needed to know.
And when I found out, it made my vision blur.
Shed hired a nanny.
While I cherished every moment I got with my son, she was leaving him with a stranger.
I grabbed my phone and rang her.
Why does a stranger look after our child when Im here?
Her voice was cool, indifferent. Because its easier.
Easier?! My jaw clenched. Im his father! If youre not home, he should be with me!
She sighed. James, Im not driving him all the way to yours every time I make plans. This isnt about you.
I squeezed my phone so hard I thought it might snap in my hand.
What could I do? Take her back to court? Fight for custody? But what if I lost again?
A single mistake.
One brief moment of weakness.
And Id lost it all.
But my son?
I wont lose him.
Ill fight.
Because hes all I have left.
