Two years had passed since that day, and now I saw her again. Walking just ahead of me along the High Street was a striking woman, someone who made men pause and glance over their shoulders. In a fleeting moment, I realised it was Emily my ex-wife the very woman who, years ago, would turn every head in the room.
After our wedding, the woman I married seemed to disappear. It was as though she transformed overnight; she became one of those tired women with greasy hair scraped back, always wearing oversized jumpers. I couldnt remember the last time I saw her in a dress that flattered her figure, or in the delicate lingerie she once loved.
Instead, Emily would wear baggy old T-shirts at home, clothes several sizes too large. She seemed to forget herself and stopped bothering with her nails or even a touch of makeup. She gave up on exercise, and the weight she carried after the birth of our twins never really left her. Stretchmarks and cellulite replaced the toned body I once admired.
In those two years living together, I watched her change before my eyes. She grew heavier, her clothes baggier, and whenever I suggested perhaps she should take a look in the mirror, she would take offence and then refuse to speak to me.
At some point, I discovered that I missed the Emily I’d known before our marriage the lively, fun, gorgeous girlfriend who made my mates envious. After such a transformation, I found that she no longer inspired me. Looking at her, I just felt disappointment and sadness.
The last time we were together, she wore a dull grey shirt with a faded milk stain, a pair of stretched shorts that barely covered the dimples on her thighs, and she hadnt bothered shaving her legs. Her messy bun kept falling apart and tufts of hair sprung out at odd angles. Her face looked tired and sad, with deep shadows beneath her eyes.
That evening, I told my wife I couldnt stay with her anymore; I said all I saw in her was melancholy and pity, not love.
Two years on, there she was again on the other side of the road, as radiant as ever. She walked in a stylish dress with her curly hair loose, and it was clear she had shed all the weight of the years gone by. She had gone from duckling back to swan, a proper queen the same woman who had raised my two children.
Only then did it dawn on me that Emily had never really had time or energy to care for herself before. She chose to pour her efforts into our home and into bringing up our children. I stopped paying attention to her, never realising how much she gave each day, never understanding why her own wellbeing was left behind.
I remember the few occasions I stayed home with our twins on my own I was shattered after just two hours. Meanwhile, she managed to carry them all day, keep the house tidy, prepare meals, and somehow still find time for me when I returned from work. In all those swirling demands, when could she have possibly gone for a manicure or to the gym? And rather than support her, I became critical about her appearance, forgetting her body needed to heal after childbirth.
We never went out anywhere, nowhere for her to wear the lovely jewellery or dresses sitting in the back of her wardrobe. She ended up just saving them for another time, never knowing when that might be. I was to blame for never giving her a reason to wear them.
It took two years and seeing her from afar to finally view our marriage from the outside. I realised she had carried our entire family, never once complaining or reproaching me. She always greeted me with kindness when I came home from work, never angry or resentful. She created a home for us to share, and yet I only saw it all when it was too late. All she ever needed was for me to step in and help, to give her a little time to care for herself.
I was a fool for letting go of a treasure and not noticing what I had. I became so sure of myself that I failed to care for her or even for my children, ruining everything good that we had.
Now, looking at her, I wish I could turn back the clock and beg for her forgiveness though I know she may never be able to. Still, Ill try to rebuild trust, even if only for the sake of our children, because I already lost two years of their lives.
Emily now receives plenty of attention, but wont let anyone get close. Its plain that Im the one who hurt her so deeply. Im left to wrestle with this gnawing shame and regret, having finally realised the damage I caused.
Sometimes, the things we dont value become the things we wish we never lost. Cherish those who hold your world together, for when you neglect them, it is yourself you truly let down.
