My name is Eleanor Martin, and I live in a quiet town near the banks of the River Thames, surrounded by England’s history and peaceful landscapes. I’ve known Oliver forever. He’s always been the life and soul of the party, a ladies’ man who loved the easy life. But fate played a cruel trick, and now he’s stuck in a pit of his own making.
His wife, Sarah, has been slogging away in Germany for the past two years. She left him with their two grown-up children and went off to earn a living. She returns only once a year, in the summer, for a week or two—no more, work won’t allow it. Religiously, she deposits money into their joint account every month, which Oliver can access. Recently, we bumped into each other on the street, and he invited me for a coffee. Over a cup, he poured out his story—bitter as cheap tobacco and so ridiculous that I still can’t fathom how he ended up here.
When Sarah left, Oliver endured loneliness for a year, getting by with brief flings with old flames. But then he decided enough was enough. He craved warmth, passion, someone beside him at night. “We only live once!” he told himself. He set his sights on a young woman, Annie, who had caught his eye for some time. She played hard to get, acting all high and mighty, but eventually gave in and became his lover. Stunning to look at, but with a character to boot—moody, dramatic, with endless demands. And Oliver, gentle and pliable, fulfilled her every whim.
He knew too well that good doesn’t come from such affairs, especially if you’re a soft touch willing to do anything for a smile. Annie bled him dry. First, it was money for clothes and bills, then to renovate her house and summer cottage, pay for her son’s graduation party, buy a new TV. Eventually, he even bought her a second-hand car. When his savings ran dry, he dipped into his wife’s account—sneaking thousands, thinking no one would notice. But secret affairs always come to light. Sarah found out about his cheating—thanks to “helpful” people who made sure the news crossed borders. She gave him an earful over video call, yelling so loudly it seemed to shake the windows. She threatened to tell their daughters—who adored their father, seeing him as a hero but would turn their backs for such betrayal. She said she’d return and file for divorce if he didn’t ditch the girl.
But Annie clung onto him like a leech. She wasn’t going to lose such a generous “sugar daddy.” First, she put on a performance about being pregnant—swore she’d keep the baby, appealed to his emotions. In a panic, Oliver whisked her away to a resort to persuade her otherwise. She agreed to an abortion but handed him a bill—10,000 pounds, which he didn’t have. He had to take out a loan, drowning himself in debt. Just as he sighed in relief, thinking the nightmare was over, Annie started an affair with his boss. Under her spell, the boss now makes Oliver’s work life hell—humiliating him, threatening to fire him. And if he loses his job, how can he pay off the loan? Oliver is at the brink: his job hangs by a thread, money is dwindling, and guilt gnaws at him like a hungry dog.
He admitted to me that he’s thinking of running to Sarah in Germany—leaving everything behind, falling at her feet, begging for forgiveness. Maybe that could save what’s left of his life? Finally, he gave a bitter chuckle: “I knew there’s no such thing as a free lunch, but my share was too bitter.” And he walked away, head down, leaving me staring at an empty cup. Oliver trapped himself in this hell—for the sake of cheap thrills, for a girl who drained him of everything: money, pride, family. Sarah toils in a foreign land so their children can live well, while he swapped her for a demanding parasite. If his daughters learned the truth, they’d curse him—and rightly so.
I watch him sinking and can’t help but wonder: what’s next? Annie will squeeze him dry and discard him, leaving him an empty shell. His boss will sack him, and he’ll be left with nothing—no family, no home, with a debt that will choke him for the rest of his days. He thought he could buy youth, that love was a toy in fancy wrapping. Now he’s paying for it—bitterly, alone, with nothing to show for it. Sarah might take him back, but will she forgive him? I wouldn’t. He betrayed not just her but their children and grandchildren who could have brightened his old age. Instead, a young schemer laughs at him behind his back. There’s the life of the party—now just a shadow of himself, with a lesson he won’t forget in a hurry.
