It was the second time my wife was expecting when a young woman knocked on our front door, a baby cradled in her arms.
I could never have imagined finding myself in that situation. It turned out I had been blind to the fact that Id been sharing my life with more than I thought.
I met Adam when I was fifteen and he was seventeen. We married five years later and, a year after that, my wife fell pregnant. When our daughter, Emily, was born, Adam was over the moon. He doted on her, worked even harder, and bought us a spacious twobedroom flat in London. Emily became the centre of his world; he took her to the nursery, to her piano lessons and art classes, walked her in the parks and watched cartoons together. My life felt perfectuntil everything changed.
During my wifes second pregnancy, a knock echoed through the hallway. Standing on the doorstep was a girl in her early twenties, a baby swaddled against her chest. I stepped aside and ushered her in. Her name was Harriet, nineteen, and she was Adams second partner.
Two weeks earlier she had given birth to a son and wanted to make her claim clear. She told me theyd been seeing each other for two years and that she wasnt about to walk away. I rang Adam and asked him to come home. His reply left me stunned:
Love, weve always got along well. Lets keep it that way. Im not leaving you, but I wont abandon Harriet either.
I refused to accept that. With tears in my eyes I grabbed his suitcase and threw it out the door. He lunged after me, shouting:
Darling, youll regret this. The flat is in my name, so you and the kids will have to move to a rundown council house on the outskirts. Dont even think about maintenance; my official salary is barely enough. Decide how youll survive.
I couldnt believe those words were coming from the man I loved.
From that moment I knew I didnt want my children growing up under his roof. Adam left with Harriet, while I packed my belongings and those of my children and moved into a modest flat of my own.
There was no time for sorrow. Adam filed for divorce almost immediately; I spent the last of my savings on a good solicitor. The lawyer handled everything, and the court awarded the flat to me and the kids. I didnt even pursue spousal maintenance.
Seven years later I remarried. My new husband, Richard, is a completely different blokekind, supportive, and genuinely wonderful. It turned out Harriet had only been after my exwifes money, and when she found herself without a home she kicked Adam out. He tried to crawl back to me, but after what he said to me that day, I had no desire to see him again.
