My name is Helen Martin, and I live in York, where North Yorkshire echoes with its historic charm and serene landscapes. I’ve known Oliver for what feels like forever. He has always been a jovial character, fond of women and the easy life. However, fate’s taken a bitter turn for him, and now he’s tangled in a mess of his own making.
His wife, Sally, has been toiling away in Germany for the past two years. She left him with their two grown, independent children and headed off to earn a living. She only comes back once a year, in the summer, for a week or two — that’s all her holidays allow. Still, she diligently deposits money into their joint account every month, which Oliver can access. We bumped into each other in town recently, and he invited me for coffee. Over the cup, he poured out his story — as bitter as cheap tobacco and so absurd that I still can’t fathom how he ended up in such a predicament.
Once Sally left, Oliver endured a year of loneliness, having fleeting flings with old flames, but then decided enough was enough. He craved warmth, passion, someone to share his bed with. “You only live once!” he justified to himself. Soon, he set his sights on a young lady, Anna, who had long intrigued him. She played hard to get, acting aloof, but eventually gave in and became his lover. She was picture-perfect, but with a temperament that left much to be desired: demanding and prone to tantrums. Oliver, soft and obliging, was like putty in her hands, fulfilling her every whim.
He knew full well that relationships like this rarely ended well, especially for a pushover like him, willing to do anything for her smile. Anna drained him dry. First, it was money for clothes and bills, then for renovations on her house and her graduation party, then a new television. It went so far that he bought her a second-hand car. When his savings ran out, he dipped into Sally’s account — withdrawing thousands, assuming no one would notice. But secrets have a way of coming out. Sally found out about his infidelity — “well-meaning” people made sure she heard, even across borders. She laid into him via video call, shouting so furiously you could feel the windows tremble. She threatened to tell their daughters, who adored their father and saw him as a hero, but would surely turn their backs if they knew this betrayal. She warned she’d return and file for divorce unless he ended things with that girl.
Anna, though, clung to him like a leech. Losing such a generous “sponsor” wasn’t part of her plan. She first staged a pregnancy scare — swearing she’d bear his child and tugging at his heartstrings. In panic, Oliver whisked her off on a holiday to persuade her otherwise. She agreed to a termination but charged him £10,000, money he didn’t have. He had to take out a loan, now knee-deep in debt. Just as he thought the nightmare might be over, Anna started an affair with his boss. Now, under her spell, the boss mocks Oliver at work — belittles and threatens his job security. If he loses that job, how will he repay the loan? Oliver is at breaking point: his job is hanging by a thread, his funds are dwindling, and his conscience gnaws at him like a ravenous dog.
He confessed to me that he’s contemplating fleeing to Sally in Germany — leaving everything behind, falling at her feet, and begging for forgiveness. Perhaps, he thinks, it might save the remnants of his life. He offered a wry smile as he left: “I knew there was no such thing as a free lunch, but I never imagined my piece would be quite this salty.” And with that, he walked away, head bowed, leaving me staring into my empty cup. Oliver landed himself in this hell — for the sake of fleeting thrills, for a girl who sucked him dry: money, pride, family. Sally is working herself to the bone in a foreign land to ensure their kids have a decent life, and he traded her for a capricious leech. If his daughters learn the truth, they’ll curse him — and rightly so.
I watch him sinking, unable not to wonder: what next? Anna will sap him dry and toss him aside like an empty shell. His boss will boot him out, leaving him with nothing — no family, no home, a debt that will haunt him forever. He thought youth could be bought, and love was just a toy in pretty wrapping. Now he pays the price — bitterly, alone, with empty hands. Sally might, perhaps, take him back, but will she forgive him? I wouldn’t. He’s betrayed not only her but their children and grandchildren, who could have brought joy to his twilight years. Instead — it’s a young vixen, laughing behind his back. So much for the fun-loving guy — now he’s a mere shadow of himself, and he won’t soon forget this harsh lesson.
