Ten years of marriage and raising three children exhausted me. At age 32, I needed a break. Mike and I got married soon after he graduated. He didn’t even have a job when he proposed. I worked as a cashier, earning minimum wage.
We were high school sweethearts, and one of the reasons I fell for Mike was his ambition. He was fascinated by buildings and infrastructure, so he studied civil engineering.
Graduating at the top of his class helped him secure a junior engineer position at a prominent firm. Soon after we got married, I fell pregnant and stopped working. Wanting to provide the best for us, Mike worked overtime and Saturdays. The additional income helped us to live comfortably and got Mike into the CEO’s good graces.
When the senior engineer retired two years after Mike started, he got the position. At 25, Mike earned six figures. We had money for more children, so I gave birth to our third child just before turning 27.
Being at home with the children and not having to worry about contributing my share of the bills was wonderful. Mike provided a cushy life for us because he knew that living comfortably was important to me. On my birthday and our anniversary, he always bought me a lavish gift. I received expensive watches, handbags and designer clothing.
The sex was great. But I insisted that we have less of it after the third child because I was exhausted. Although Mike had minimal access to my body, I knew he never cheated on me. Even after years of marriage, he told me that I was the most beautiful woman in the world, and he hit the jackpot by marrying me.
I knew that I was sexy. The mirror showed me that and many young guys at the gym told me. I smiled every time and thanked them for the compliment. I’d be lying if I said that a few of them weren’t hot. One guy in particular, black hair and killer abs, made me question my relationship status.
Mike believed that I lost my virginity to him, like he did with me, but I had a one-night stand when we began dating. It was with a football player. He was amazing in the sack, and I don’t regret it.
Getting married so young had disadvantages. I never got a chance to learn about myself, what it was that I wanted or the person I wanted to be. I thought that I’d travel the world, establish my career and have fun before settling down in my thirties.
All of that went down the drain when I married Mike, and I felt that I had missed out on so much. I needed to find myself.
Three months ago, I discussed with Mike the possibility of a divorce. My family and friends still don’t know about it, and I know that they would be gobsmacked to discover it.
Mike is perfect…on paper. He’s everything a girl could dream of finding, but I think that I haven’t found myself. I needed to know who I am. Sigh. I bowed my head and rubbed my forehead.
The whole situation was a mess. If only I could go back to when Mike proposed, knowing what I know now…
When I told Mike how I felt, his blank stare and his empty eyes showed me that he was gutted. I couldn’t blame him for feeling that way. He really tried to provide everything for us, and he succeeded, but I needed to work on myself, alone.
Since our conversation, I hadn’t mentioned anything about finalising the divorce. I considered where I would live, work and how we would share custody of the children. I knew that being on my own wouldn’t be easy, but a fresh start was exactly what I needed.
The only reason I hadn’t left immediately was because I was scared. I had everything at home, and there wasn’t a single thing that I needed to worry about for survival.
Mike would support the kids financially, so my priority was taken care of. I was certain that my parents would help me with money until I got on my feet and found a job. I’m sure of it. I smiled, feeling relieved about having solutions to my problems. Everything’s going to be okay, Jenny. You’re going to be fine.
I went to the city centre to shop, and I saw numerous young women with their friends. They looked joyous, uninhibited and free. Their smiles and body language suggested they had the freedom to go on a whim anywhere and do whatever they pleased. I yearned to know what that felt like. I wanted to live that life so badly.
Thinking about that outing cemented my decision to get a divorce. I needed to do it for myself. It was the right thing to do for my future.
Mike worked late that night, so I thought that the best time for me to discuss my decision with him was on Sunday. The kids would take a nap after lunch, and we could talk without interruptions. I was nervous and excited at the same time. Excited about my future but worried about how my family and friends would react.
I exhaled a few deep breaths. I was glad that I mentioned the possibility of a divorce to Mike, so he wouldn’t be completely taken aback when I confirmed my decision. Staying married wasn’t fair to him and definitely not to me. I couldn’t be the person I wanted to be when I was with him, so he wasn’t getting the real me. And I felt that was the best version of me.
I knew that our divorce would hurt Mike badly, but he would come to grips with it. As shocking as it may sound, it may even be a blessing in disguise for him. He could find the woman who shares his goals. On second thought, maybe it’s best that he remains single. I don’t want some skank to spend time with my children.
Thinking about having the freedom to roam the world and do as I pleased made me smile. A part of me always felt trapped in my marriage and craved to be freed from the cage so I could explore uncharted territory.
The best part was that my friends won’t be around to judge me. I could go all out and not feel self-conscious about acting on my true desires. That’s what all women want—to do as they desire without anyone judging them.
Why does society judge women so harshly? Men should be given the dirty look as well, yet they seem to do whatever they want without any consequences. Women should have that same privilege. Considering I’m going to be a free woman soon, I’ll make up my own rules without consideration for society’s expectations.
On Sunday, after lunch, Mike helped me clear the table and wash the dishes.
He sat on the couch and grabbed the remote. Before he switched the TV on, I said, “Mike, we need to talk.”
I sat across the table and added, “We’ve discussed the possibility of going our own way and starting fresh.”
He closed his eyes briefly and then looked at the table. I felt that the gravity of my suggestion had weighed on him, and he realised that it would be inevitable.
“Why do you want to do this, Jenny? We have a great life. I’ve given you everything you’ve ever wanted. If there’s something else you need, I’ll provide it for you. Just say what it is, and you’ll get it.”
I thought he was sweet for wanting to cater to my every need. But Mike would give me what I wanted by letting me go.
I couldn’t say that to him, so I rephrased. “I appreciate that, sweety. This is something that I need to do for myself. It really is me. It’s not you. I understand if you feel that none of this makes sense and you’re completely confused, but it’ll all fall in place once the dust settles. As crazy as it sounds, you may like the new arrangement.”
He frowned.
I continued, “New opportunities will open up for you. You’ll have more time to dedicate to work. You can go out and meet people.”
“I don’t want to go out and meet people. My wife is the only person I need.”
I lowered my gaze to the table. Mike was adorable for saying that, but I had already checked out of our marriage.
“The new arrangement will be an adjustment for both of us, but you’ll be fine. You’ll see,” I said, smiling, hoping that he would see the potential in his freedom.
Mike bowed his head and then shook it. Seeing him devastated pained me. He had done everything in his power to satisfy me, and I couldn’t hold anything against him. He was a wonderful father and husband. But I needed to discover myself.
“Don’t see this as a negative. It’s a fresh start. It’ll open up a new world of opportunities,” I said.
“I don’t want to start over again. I’m happy with the way things are. I just want to carry on living my life with my wife and children,” said Mike, his voice breaking.
I sat next to him and rubbed his back as he bowed his head. I squeezed his shoulder and told him that he was a dream come true for me and that I wouldn’t have picked any other man to be the father of my children.
As difficult as it was to see my husband so distraught, I knew that I’d be doing us a disservice if I backed out of my plans. Even if I buried them for some time, they would resurrect themselves. Later, it could be even more painful for us to part. That’s the reason I had to do it now.
“Everything will be okay, Mike,” I said, rubbing his back.
He stood up and walked outside. I knew he needed a moment to process everything, so I remained on the couch.
He walked back into the house, snatched the keys off the table and walked out. Blowing off steam would do him wonders.
I hoped that when he returned, he would have warmed up to the idea of us parting.
Mike walked through the door a few hours later. I went up to him and smiled. He avoided eye contact and went to the bedroom. I understood that he was upset and needed more time to consider everything.
On Monday morning, I greeted him before he walked out. He said, “Bye,” and left without taking his lunchbox. That was the first time he had forgotten it. Or did he leave it behind?
I accepted being the bad guy and that he would be resentful towards me. With time, he would acclimatise to us not being married and may even thank me for it.
After starting his new life, Mike would appreciate not having me ask him where he was going or what he would do. I was certain that he would enjoy his newfound freedom. Instead of attending to my needs, he could go hunting, spend time with his friends and start new hobbies. I was certain that he would eventually realise what I know now.
For the rest of the week, Mike communicated with me only when it was absolutely necessary. For the rest of the time, he avoided me as best he could without making it obvious. But it was. I had gotten used to it and considered it a valuable exercise to prepare us for our new lives.
During dinner, he spoke only to the children and avoided eye contact with me when he passed me a dish. I held back on saying anything that could aggravate him. I didn’t want our children to be victims of our disagreement. Fortunately, they were still too young to pick up on animosity between us. At least, I hoped that was the case.
On Sunday, when Mike was on his way out after lunch, I said, “Can we talk for a minute, please?”
He looked at me, closed the door and said, “About?”
“Do you mind if we sit?”
We sat in the lounge, and I said, “I know that the last thing you want to talk about is the divorce, but I think it’ll be a good idea for us to discuss the logistics.”
“Okay.”
“I’m happy for you to see the kids whenever you want, or we could agree on specific days. However you want to do it is fine with me. The kids love you, and I’m not going to get in the way of your relationship with them.”
Mike looked down and nodded. I knew he appreciated my offer, but he wished that the compromise wasn’t even necessary.
“Look, Mike, I know this isn’t easy. It’s a big adjustment for all of us, and I hope that we can remain on good terms. You’ve been a wonderful husband and father, and this really has nothing to do with you. I just need some time to figure out what it is that I really want.”
“Is there a chance you could discover that me and the kids, under one roof, is what you really want and need?”
I stared at him for some time, uncertain of how to answer. I didn’t want to lie to him.
After not receiving an answer, Mike nodded, stood up and looked at me briefly, then walked out the door.
We filed for divorce on Wednesday. On Friday afternoon, Mike and I sat down with the children and told them about their new living arrangement.
I rented an apartment a few kilometres away from the house so that it was convenient for me to drop off the kids whenever Mike wanted to see them. He was generous to pay half of my rent. I hoped that my parents would pay the other half until I found a job. Yikes. I still needed to tell them about the divorce.
The kids stayed with Mike for a few days until I settled into my new place.
I looked around the apartment and saw freedom. I had no restrictions. Wherever I wanted to go or whomever I wanted to see was available for me to explore. I spun around the lounge, my arms wide open and then plunked down into the couch, smiling.
Everything worked out exactly as I planned. I remembered that I needed to call my parents. I knew that they would be shocked and disappointed, but they would eventually understand and support me.
Dad remained quiet after I told him, and Mom sounded confused but attempted to be supportive. She said that she would speak to Dad, and they would come around after they had time to process the new arrangement.
I knew that time healed everything, and they would get over my divorce after they realised that I did what I thought was best for me.
The following morning, I went to the gym. A hot guy looked at me and smiled. I smiled, hoping that he would flirt with me. He carried on walking, probably afraid of stepping up to a real woman.
I withheld sex from Mike for the last three months, so I was eager to have a moist pussy. Since the guys I wanted were afraid to approach me, I figured the best way for me to get laid was to hire a personal trainer.
Bryan was five years younger than me, jacked and friendly. A little too friendly. During our first session, he told me to get on my hands and knees and raise my right leg, stretching it in line with the rest of my body. He pressed my abs and said that I should feel tension there. He was right. I did.
Then he poked my left bum cheek and said that muscle should feel contracted. It was, but I didn’t think he would get physical so soon. At least he could’ve done was buy me dinner before getting that intimate.
Instead of dinner, Bryan suggested we get ice cream. That was a downgrade from my first date with Mike, who took me to a luxurious restaurant on a hotel patio that had just opened. He spent a few hundred dollars that night and said that I was worth it. He used the money he earned from a summer job, so I was really impressed by his effort.
It seemed to me that the dating marketplace had changed since the last time I participated in it. Bryan didn’t reveal too much about himself, so I didn’t get to know him. Maybe that was a tactic, or he had something to hide.
Either way, we ended up back at my place. He said that he was in between places, whatever that meant. Probably, he was couch surfing at his friend’s place.
Although not emotionally desirable, Bryan had a big dick. He demanded that I suck it. I thought he was cheeky but in a good way.
He threw me onto the bed and told me to get on my hands and knees. Standing behind me, he grabbed my waist and stuck his dick inside me. I immediately got wet. God, it felt so good to have someone inside of me.
Bryan grabbed my shoulders and thrust fast. I shot out a groan and intermittently screamed as he pounded me hard. I didn’t want him to stop, and I was glad that he had the stamina and self-control to last a while.
A few minutes later, he flipped me onto my back and pulled me towards the edge of the bed. He grabbed my ankles, pushed my legs forward and then stuck his dick into me as he hovered over me, with my legs pressing against his chest.
I closed my eyes and focused on his penetration. I wanted to fully consume the feeling of his dick inside of me. It felt amazing. I couldn’t recall the last time I felt this degree of lust burning inside my chest. Maybe it was because the passion that Mike and I shared had defused after I lost attraction for him.
But Bryan was hot like a furnace. I wanted him to pummel me as hard as he could and feel his sweat dripping on me.
My pussy moistened as he sped up the penetration. I opened my mouth and emitted loud groans, which were suppressed for months. Finally, I had unleashed them and felt that I had freed myself from self-imposed restrictions. I promised myself never to live that way again. There was absolutely no reason for it.
I opened my eyes and saw Bryan’s flushed face. His intense expression really turned me on. It made me feel that he wanted me badly and would try his best to satisfy me.
Some time later, he told me to get on top of him. He lay on the bed, and I sat on him, my arms pressed against his contracted pecks. It felt amazing to have a strong man between my legs.
I bounced on him aggressively and looked down at him. He maintained his serious expression, making me believe that he appreciated my effort.
He put his right hand on my waist and cupped my breast with the other hand. I closed my eyes, raised my chin and moaned. The lust and passion that we fuelled became hotter, encouraging me to bang him even harder. I felt his biceps and shoulders tense up, and he compressed his lips, making me believe that he would cum soon.
I felt my chest burning, and my pussy was so moist that I was ready to shoot out like a fountain. Abruptly, I stopped and pulled out Bryan’s dick. I straightened my arms behind my back and pressed against the bed as I spread my legs wide open. He tapped his dick on my clitoris, and I fluid shot out of me. I put my head back and screamed.
With each spurt of fluid that gushed out of me, I felt that I had released all the desires I had buried for so long. Bryan rubbed my pussy, aggravating more fluid to shoot out.
Oh, God. It felt amazing. I couldn’t believe that I had robbed myself of that feeling for so long. Why had I punished myself like that? Never again. Never.
Bryan gripped my throat and squeezed it, pulling me towards him. I leaned into him, and he groped me. He shoved his tongue deep into my mouth. It was a sloppy kiss, but I think he meant to make it that way so it seemed kinky.
We pulled away, and I panted, trying to catch my breath. A few minutes with Bryan were more intense than several sex sessions with Mike.
Bryan threw me off him. I lay prone and opened my legs. He lay between them and licked my pussy. I closed my eyes and focused on his tongue. He rattled it in every direction, and I moaned. I raked my fingers through his hair and then clutched a fist full of it.
A few minutes later, Bryan got off the bed and stuck out his hand. I grabbed it, and he pulled me off the bed. He escorted me to the shower and told me to get on my knees. I sucked his dick for a few minutes, and he stroked it and told me to open my mouth. He shot his load into my mouth and told me to swallow it. I indulged him in his fantasy, but his semen tasted terrible. I didn’t want to do that again.
The following day, Bryan didn’t contact me. I thought he would call to tell me that he enjoyed our intimacy and couldn’t wait to see me again.
Two days later, the agony of waiting for him to call had gnawed at me. I couldn’t take it any more. I called him, and he said, “Oh, hi, Jenny.”
He sounded surprised to hear from me. I thought that he would apologise for not calling me, but no such luck.
“What are you up to?” I asked.
“Relaxing. I’ve been working out hard, so I need to give my muscles some rest.”
“I thought I’d hear from you after we were together, but nothing.”
“Oh, okay. I didn’t know I was supposed to call.”
I frowned and remained silent, struggling to believe that a man in his late twenties didn’t know basic dating courtesy.
“Well, I mean, yeah. That’s usually what a man does when he’s interested in a woman.”
“Jenny, look. I see where you’re going with this. We only had sex. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Yeah, but still. It’s common courtesy to call the woman you were intimate with.”
“Look, I gotta go. Chat later.” He hung up.
I couldn’t believe his audacity and ill manners.
On Friday, I called him, and he didn’t answer. When I didn’t hear from him by Sunday, I knew that he wasn’t interested in speaking to me again.
That prospect was dead. I needed a new one. I downloaded a dating app and filled out my profile.
An hour later, I received three messages. Yippee.
I disqualified one guy because he was divorced and had kids. He wasn’t for me. If we got serious, I didn’t want to deal with his ex-wife. She could be a bitch, for all I knew. Heaven forbid his kids were spoiled brats. That’s the last thing I need.
The other two guys seemed decent. I decided to give both of them a shot because, frankly, I was desperate. I set up the dates on the same night, two hours apart and at the same shopping centre. If the first date was awful, I could leave early and shop until the next one.
Much to my delight, the first guy wasn’t bad. Nothing special, but I expected another jerk like Bryan. At least, James picked up the tab and said that he wanted to take me out to dinner again. Nice. I felt there was hope for me in the dating marketplace. It wasn’t the cesspool that many single mothers online claimed it was.
The second guy acted weirdly, but I attributed his behaviour to anxiety. He said that I was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen and felt intimidated. He also picked up the tab and said that he wanted to see me again.
After the second date, I slept with both of the guys. Why not? It was my turn to have fun and make up for all the years of sleeping with only one man.
James called. He said that I should go to his place. That was a surprise. I thought he’d take me shopping to show his appreciation for my effort. At his place, he poured us wine and immediately started touching me. It was evident that he wanted sex. But he didn’t even have the decency to cook me dinner. I mean, hello. Who do you think I am?
When I told him that we would not have sex, he said, “Oh, okay. I thought that’s why you came over.”
“Maybe you should spoil me a bit before trying to get into my pants for free.”
“Okay. What would you like?”
“I don’t know. How about a necklace or some piece of jewellery to show me you care about me?”
“Jewellery?” he asked, eyebrows and shoulders raised, leaning slightly back. He added, “Wow. Don’t you think that’s a bit extravagant?”
“Not at all. My husband used—. I mean, my ex-husband used to buy me things like that all the time.”
“Maybe you should go back to him.”
I frowned. What? What did he just say? He seemed completely unfazed by my dissatisfaction with him. Mike attended to my every need and did everything possible to brighten up my mood, even if he wasn’t responsible for my discontent. But not this jerk. Who the hell does he think he is? I don’t have to put up with this. I deserve better.
I walked out of his place and immediately blocked him on my phone.
The second guy called me the following day. I actually couldn’t remember his name. It was some weird Eastern European name that I could never remember. I recognised only his voice when he called.
“Hey,” I said.
“Do you want to grab a bite to eat?”
I sighed silently. I was emotionally weary, but I hoped that he would lift my spirits. “Sure. Why not?”
During dinner, I asked him, “Do you have any children?”
“No. But I would like to have two. A boy and a girl.”
I smiled. “That’s nice. I’ve got three.”
His smile faded, and he stared at me.
I added, “I didn’t mention that before, did I?”
With his lips apart, he shook his head.
“Yes. I have two boys and a girl. I used to be married.”
“Why’d you leave your husband?”
That was a personal question. And why did he assume that I left him?
“I needed to figure certain things out.”
“And you couldn’t do that while you remained married?”
“It was best for me to take some time for myself and gather the pieces I felt were missing.”
“I see.”
He wasn’t impressed by my actions, but I couldn’t have cared less. Who was he to judge me?
I no longer enjoyed his company and felt negative energy from him, so I said, “I think it’s best if we call it a night.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
I hoped that he would try to convince me to stay, even though he wouldn’t have succeeded. Instead, he said that we should split the bill. The nerve of him. What a jerk.
I got home, sprawled on my bed and let out a heavy sigh. Oh, God. How much more could I take? At first, the dating scene didn’t seem challenging, but once I manoeuvred further down the course, the obstacles became insurmountable.
I thought about him asking me why I left Mike. Initially, I was offended by his prying, but it was a good question. I felt that I deserved more, needed more. The dating marketplace showed me that I would struggle to find it, but I was determined to keep looking.
The following day, I went to the gym to blow off some steam. While punching the bag, I saw a guy in my peripheral vision. Thinking that he wanted to use the bag, I said, “I’m almost finished.”
“No, no. I was watching your technique. You’re not bad, but your jab would be a lot better if you extended your arm fully. You mind if I show you?”
“No, go ahead.”
He bent his knees and extended his left arm fully, with his shoulder protecting his chin.
“You see? You try it.”
I copied his stance, and he praised me for it.
“Sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. Troy.”
“I’m Jenny.”
Troy held the bag for me and told me to punch it. He corrected my technique and told me to repeat the combination. He praised my improvement and told me that I had the potential to become the next female world boxing champion. We laughed. He wasn’t bad looking, so I was prepared to give him a chance.
We went on a drinks date. That felt like a downgrade from the previous two dinner dates. Maybe he was cautious not to spend too much money on a woman he might not see again, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
The second date was a stroll through the park. Good God, man. What were you thinking? Didn’t I deserve, at least, dinner?
I definitely wasn’t going to give him access to my coochie, so I hugged him after the date and immediately blocked him.
It was evident to me that the place I met a man didn’t determine his character. Whether he was online or at the gym, a douche was a douche.
But maybe I was picking low-hanging fruit. I had to up my game to meet the cream of the crop. I decided to start the night at a steakhouse to find a sophisticated gentleman.
I wore a red dress that revealed some of my thighs and definitely a generous portion of my chest. A tall guy with black hair approached me at the bar and asked to sit next to me. I was delighted to share Evan’s company.
He was a good conversationalist and highly intelligent. His confidence turned me on and prompted me to believe that he would dominate me in bed.
So, we went back to my place. Evan banged my brains out and gave me multiple orgasms. His sexual experience was evident. More importantly, I felt that we had a connection.
The following day, Evan didn’t call me. I figured that he was busy, so I gave him another day to redeem himself.
Still, no call.
Not wanting to wait any longer, I called him.
“Hey, how you been?” I asked.
“Busy.”
“I see. I thought I’d touch base with you since you didn’t call me.”
“What’s up?”
“I was hoping we could meet up sometime. I enjoyed our chat.”
“I’ve got a lot on my plate, Jenny.”
“I see. Was it anything that I did wrong?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to see me again.”
“You want the cold, hard truth?”
“Yes, please.”
“We had sex. I got what I wanted from you. That’s it.”
“Oh, so you get what you want and then kick me to the curb like I’m nothing.”
“What do you want?”
“How about another date, some gifts and the possibility of a relationship?”
“A relationship? Jenny, you’re a single mother. Why would I want to take care of somebody else’s kids? Nothing against them, but I don’t even want to meet them. They have nothing to do with me. But they’re part and parcel of you, and I don’t want that. Good luck to you.”
He hung up.
His words looped in my mind for the rest of the day. Evan wasn’t the only man who felt that way about single mothers; most men did.
I thought that I was sexually liberated after my divorce, but it ended up being a rude awakening about my position in the dating marketplace.
The men I met were of lower quality than Mike. Much lower. None of them showered me with compliments and gifts the way Mike did. Some of them didn’t even open the door for me. How rude.
At least once a month, Mike gave me the princess treatment. He took me out to dinner at a luxurious restaurant, then carried me from the garage to the bedroom. After running a bath for me, Mike would light a candle, play new age music and pour me a glass of wine. He’d massage me while I was in the tub and tell me that he was the luckiest man in the world to have me.
Oh, how I miss those days. When will I find another man like that?
It occurred to me that I would struggle tremendously to replace Mike and the best course of action was to return to my husband. I knew that our kids would be thrilled to have their parents reunited.
I blew out a breath of relief and smiled, realising that my future was with Mike. Maybe I needed to get back into the dating marketplace to discover that Mike was the one for me. I guess everything happens for a reason.
I called Mike and asked him if I could come over to discuss something important.
He opened the door and smiled. I smiled, happy to see the man of my dreams. I hugged him and told him that he looked amazing. He thanked me and invited me into the lounge. I looked around the house, smiling. That was my home. It’s where I belonged. I missed it so much and couldn’t wait to be back, with our children running around. Except this time, I would be happier than before. I would appreciate Mike more than ever and thank my lucky stars that I had him and the kids.
We sat in the lounge, and I said, “You look fantastic. There’s something about you that’s changed. It’s like you’re more upbeat.”
He smiled and nodded. “Thanks.”
“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. And I’m really hoping that you’ll come to the party.”
“Okay. What is it?”
“I said to you that I needed to figure everything out and needed time to find myself. There were so many things I wanted to experience, and I felt that the only way for me to discover who I am and what I want was to be on my own.”
“Right.”
I chuckled. “The funny thing is that being on my own showed me that I didn’t want to be on my own. I want to be with you. I want my husband back. The kids will be under one roof. I’ll cherish you and treat you better than ever before, and we’re going to be happy for the rest of our lives.”
I smiled at Mike, but he looked at me with a blank expression.
He remained silent for some time, so I added, “What do you think about that?”
“Let me get this straight. You want us to reunite and get married again?”
I thought for two seconds and said, “Yes. That would be wonderful. We can go to the magistrate’s court and fill out all the paperwork. No new wedding necessary,” I chuckled.
He looked at the floor for some time and eventually looked at me and said, “I don’t know what to say. This is completely out of the blue.”
“I’m sorry, Mike, for divorcing you. It was a terrible, terrible mistake on my part. It should never have happened. We all make mistakes. Please, understand. I would never do anything like that again. I’ve come to my senses, and you and the kids are all that I need. Nothing else. Please, say that you want us back so that we can live like a family again.”
“I’ve got my kids, so I’m satisfied with that arrangement. As for you and me reuniting, I’m not so sure about that.”
My heart dropped into my stomach. That was the most hurtful thing he ever said to me. “Why not?”
“You made your decision, and now, all of us have to live with it.”
“I don’t want to live without you. I want my husband back.”
“You know what your proposal reminds me of?”
“What?”
“There’s an old saying: going back to your ex is like throwing out spoiled milk and then going back to it the following day to see if it’s fresh.”
That stunned me. I couldn’t believe he said that. He referred to me as spoiled milk.
“Surely you don’t feel that way?”
He stared at me without replying. Maybe it was for the best that he remained silent. His retribution was brutal, and I could handle only so much.
I walked out of the house, looked back at it and cried, knowing I had lost the best thing that had happened to me and the magical life I had.