“Stingy Men’s Tears”
“Where are you off to, all dressed up like that?” his neighbour asked, raising an eyebrow as he spotted Jeremy in his sharp suit and tie.
“To my son’s graduation,” Jeremy replied.
“Blimey! Other people’s kids grow up so fast…”
“So do ours,” Jeremy said with a faint smile.
“Right… So, you’ll be free of child support soon, then?”
The look Jeremy gave him was so venomous the neighbour shifted uncomfortably.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Come off it, mate—aren’t you sick of handing over cash to your ex?”
“No,” Jeremy snapped, leaving the man bewildered as he strode away.
Gradually, his mood lifted. Memories flooded back…
***
The day his life changed, Jeremy had been drowning in numbness.
By all accounts, he had it made—freedom, a salary most would envy, a flat in London, no shortage of female attention. His business thrived, his career was golden. So why did he feel so hollow? Nothing sparked joy. Everything felt pointless.
Leaving the office, he sensed the storm rolling in. Dark clouds swallowed the sky; the wind howled.
He hailed a cab—the last thing he needed was to get drenched.
His car was in the garage, naturally. And Jeremy had never owned an umbrella.
He slumped into the back seat, sinking into that familiar void.
The driver prattled away, trying to impress a clearly wealthy fare, while some maudlin tune crackled on the radio—the kind of music Jeremy hated.
Then the lyrics pierced through.
*”I lived so reckless, wild and free,
Like fire coursing through my veins.
Her love once seemed eternity,
I never dreamed of life in chains.
But day by day, I threw it all away,
And wounded her with every choice.
Lost the love I couldn’t see,
The days she once was mine…”*
A dull ache spread through him—familiar, relentless. And suddenly, he knew its source.
Emily.
His Emily.
Emma.
Different names for different chapters of their life.
Their school romance had led to marriage. No one believed the head girl, Emily Whitmore, would ever tie the knot with Jeremy Clarke—the troublemaker with a devil-may-care smirk.
But he had known. She was the only reason he’d pulled himself together—studied, fought his way up, became the man he was.
And she?
Always there. Loving. Patient. Beautiful.
She’d given him two sons.
Never a complaint, never a bitter word.
And somewhere along the way, Jeremy assumed it would always be that way. That she’d never leave—no matter how much he took her for granted.
Then came the money, the late nights, the meaningless affairs…
Emily said nothing. Asked nothing. Just raised their boys alone.
He never apologised. Never helped. Never explained.
He paid the bills. Thought that was enough.
He was wrong.
Then, one ordinary evening, she said it:
*”Jeremy, I don’t love you anymore.”*
*”Don’t be daft,”* he scoffed, *”you’re just tired. Let’s eat.”*
She set the plates down. Calm. Resolute.
*”You’re not listening. I want a divorce.”*
*”What about the kids?”* The moment the words left his mouth, he hated himself.
*”They deserve love,”* she said quietly. *”Not just a marriage.”*
*”Fine. Sod off then!”* He grabbed his coat and walked out.
Three nights he stayed away. Waiting for her to call.
She didn’t.
When he returned, he found suitcases in the hall. Hers. The boys’.
*”What are you doing?”*
*”Packing.”*
*”Why?”*
She just looked at him.
*”Stop this,”* he rasped. *”I’ll go.”*
And he did.
Left her everything.
Because anything else was unthinkable.
After the divorce, Emily stayed single for years. He knew—he checked. Dropped by unannounced, demanded respect from the boys. Thought he was entitled.
Then she remarried.
Rage consumed him. How *dare* she? *His* Emily? She should be on her knees thanking him for the house, the child support, the extra handouts!
So he tormented her.
Especially when drunk.
And that was happening a lot.
Calls. Texts. Threats.
Emily ignored him—until she blocked him entirely.
Then he started waiting outside her house…
Sober mornings brought shame, but never an apology. He couldn’t face her.
Slowly, his world narrowed to hate—for her, for himself, for everything.
He forgot how to feel.
***
And now this song.
*”Who’s singing?”* Jeremy croaked.
*”You joking, mate? That’s Liam Gallagher! Never heard ‘Live Forever’?”*
Jeremy didn’t answer. A minute later: *”Turn around. Now. Go.”*
As they passed a supermarket, he spotted an old woman selling peonies. Emily’s favourite.
He flung the cab door open, bought every last stem, shoved money at the bewildered woman—
Now he stood at her door.
Heart hammering.
Alive—*really* alive—for the first time in years.
He pressed the buzzer.
The door opened. Emily froze. Then fear flickered—until she saw him shifting awkwardly on the step, clutching those peonies.
*”Come in,”* she stepped aside.
Jeremy handed her the bouquet. *”For you.”*
*”Thank you.”* She buried her face in the blooms—just like she used to.
*”Emma, who is it?”* Her husband emerged—apron covered in cartoon dinosaurs.
His smile vanished when he saw Jeremy. Past encounters had never ended well.
*”Emily,”* Jeremy met her eyes, *”I get it now. I was wrong. I wrecked everything. My life, my happiness—because without you and the boys, none of it means anything.”*
Emily just stared. Her husband tightened his grip on her hand.
*”And you—Thomas, right? Thank you. For being there when I wasn’t.”*
Jeremy held out his hand.
Thomas hesitated—then took it.
*”Where are my lads?”* Jeremy asked hoarsely. *”Can I see them?”*
*”Of course,”* Emily smiled. *”They’ve missed you.”*
Dinner stretched late. Conversation flowed. A decision was made—
They’d stay in each other’s lives.
***
Years passed.
Jeremy lived alone, worked hard—but never missed a visit.
Birthdays. Holidays. Even fishing trips with Thomas—who’d become an unlikely friend.
The boys took to it too.
No one called him *”the ex”* anymore. Just family.
And Jeremy? He’d never give them reason to doubt him again.
***
Lost in thought, Jeremy barely noticed reaching the school gates.
*”Dad!”* His eldest waved through the crowd.
*”Am I late?”* Jeremy hugged him, shook Thomas’s hand, smiled at Emily. *”Decided to walk.”*
*”Right on time,”* Emily said softly. *”It’s only just beginning.”*
*”How late we learn what truly matters,
The cost of love we failed to see.
Who warms her now in winter’s chapters?
Who holds the love she gave to me?
May life be kind, her joys unbroken—
God keep her safe, her children near.
For I was blessed—though left unspoken—
The days she once was mine.”*
Jeremy never became a Gallagher fan. But whenever that song played—
Stingy men’s tears rolled down his cheeks.
