My name is Helen Martin, and I live in the town of Rye, where East Sussex preserves its historical whispers and serene shores. I’ve known Oliver for what feels like forever. He’s always been a cheerful sort, fond of women and the easy life. But fate played a cruel joke on him, and now he’s stuck in a pit he dug himself.
His wife, Sarah, has been working herself to the bone in Germany for the past two years. She left him with their two children—already grown and independent—and went off to earn a living. She only returns once a year, in the summer, for a week or two, no longer—her holiday allowance won’t stretch further. Still, every month like clockwork, she credits money to their joint account, which Oliver can access. Recently, we bumped into each other on the street, and he invited me for a coffee. Over the steaming mugs, he poured out his tale—bitter as cheap tobacco—and so absurd that I still can’t fathom how he got himself into this.
When Sarah left, Oliver endured a year of loneliness, getting by with brief flings with old flames, but then he decided: enough was enough. He craved warmth, passion, someone beside him in bed. “You only live once,” he kept telling himself. He set his sights on a young woman, Annie, who had long caught his eye. She played hard to get for a while but eventually gave in and became his mistress. Gorgeous as a picture, but her temperament was another matter entirely—moods, tantrums, endless demands. And Oliver, soft and kind, was like putty in her hands, granting her every wish.
He was well aware: such mistresses bring no good, especially if you’re a pushover who’ll do anything for a smile. Annie drained him dry. First, it was money for clothes and bills, then to fix up her house and holiday cottage, to fund her son’s graduation party, and even for a new television. It reached the point where he bought her a used car. When his savings ran out, he dipped into his wife’s account—siphoning off thousands, thinking no one would notice. But secrets can’t stay hidden forever. Sarah found out about the affair—”kind souls” made sure of it, even across borders. She confronted him over video call, yelling so fiercely the windows rattled. She threatened to tell their daughters—they adored their father, saw him as a hero, but this betrayal would turn them against him forever. She said she’d return and file for divorce if he didn’t leave the girl.
But Annie latched onto him like a tick. Losing such a generous “provider” wasn’t an option for her. First, she put on a dramatic performance, claiming she was pregnant—swore she’d have the baby, tugging at his heartstrings. Panicked, Oliver took her on a holiday, trying to dissuade her. She agreed to a termination but gave him a bill—£10,000, which he didn’t have. So he had to take out a loan, putting himself in serious debt. No sooner had he sighed in relief, thinking the nightmare was over, than Annie started an affair with his boss. Now, under her spell, the boss torments Oliver at work—humiliates him, threatens to fire him. And if he loses his job, how will he pay off his debt? Oliver is at breaking point: his job’s on the line, his money is dwindling, and his conscience nags at him like a starving dog.
He confessed to me that he’s thinking of fleeing to Sarah in Germany—abandoning everything, falling at her feet, begging for forgiveness. Perhaps this way, he can salvage the remnants of his life? Before he left, he smiled bitterly and said, “I knew there’s no free lunch, but my piece of cheese turned out way too salty.” And he walked away, head hung low, while I sat staring at my empty cup. Oliver trapped himself in this hell—over cheap thrills, for a girl who drained him dry: his money, pride, and family. Sarah toils in a foreign land, so their children can have a good life, while he traded her for a capricious leech. The daughters, if they learned the truth, would curse him—and rightly so.
I see him sinking, but I can’t help wondering: what comes next? Annie will squeeze him dry and discard him like an empty shell. The boss will throw him out of work, leaving him with nothing—no family, no home, and a debt that will haunt him forever. He thought youth could be bought, that love was a toy in fancy wrapping. And now he’s paying the price—bitterly, alone, with nothing to show for it. Sarah may take him back, but will she ever forgive him? I wouldn’t. He betrayed not only her but also the children and the grandchildren who might have brought joy to his old age. Instead, he chose a young parasite who mocks him behind his back. Some fun-loving guy he was—now just a shadow of himself, and he’ll never forget this lesson.
