Hey love, youve gotta hear this its a proper comedy of errors. So Im at home with my husband Tom, right? I walk in and catch him in bed with his exwife Sarah. Im like, Tom with her too? Have you any conscience left? He pops his head out from under the duvet and says, That doesnt count! You can still be with an ex. I tell him flatout, It does count. He tries to smooth it over, Emily, I love you, its just a habit I tell him his habit is a disaster. Then he whines, Can I at least get dressed? And he snatches my favourite silk nightdress too. Sarah, completely unbothered, says, What a lovely set Ill get one just like it! I snap, Take it, Im never wearing that again! She asks, So, what about getting dressed? Im not embarrassed about Tom, but you I shout, You didnt even feel embarrassed with anyone elses? She tries to calm things down, Lets not yell we were married almost twenty years, after all.
Tom fumbles his underwear, climbs out of bed, grabs me by the elbow and shoves me toward the door. Lets talk somewhere else! I refuse, Im not moving until you get out of my flat! I tell her, Run, love, before I even start calling you a granny! Sarah retorts, Im only twelve years younger than you, you know! I say, Youll hear me calling you grandma soon enough. Get out of my face or Ill fetch a walking stick, a crutch, maybe even a wheelchair if you dont move fast!
Sarah screams, Tom! Get your wife out of here! Tom laughs, Emily dear, and pulls me out of the room. I snarl, Help this old lady vanish, then well talk!
Toms trying to shield Sarah from my glare with his skinny shoulders while she tangles herself in the sheets, pulling at the nightwear. When Sarah finally stops flattering me with her charms, Ive got to clench my fists to stop myself from lashing out. The front door bangs shut, and I bark, Clean up after her, Ill be waiting in the kitchen!
Tom darts back, muttering, Yes, yes, coming right away, and rushes to the bedroom to pull off his pyjamas. From the kitchen I hear, And then clean it! He wheezes, Sure thing, and hurries in.
I find him in the kitchen, tears streaming, standing by the window. He coos, Emily I sob, How could you? With her? Id have understood if it was someone else, but with Sarah? It hurts and its humiliating, especially after everything we had. How could you forgive her? He winces, I never meant to She called, said her son was in trouble I snap, Thats no excuse to dump her into our bedroom! After what she did to you, I wouldnt even date her!
He stammers, She mentioned the son I shout, You told me all this before! She hung debts over you! How could you
We get into a long rant about how Ive never liked men much older than me a few years older is fine, fifteen years is a red flag. Toms fifteen years older, and my hearts already ticking. Theres no one else my age around whos his age, and work never brought a man like him into my circle. Its just a wild coincidence that we met.
One day Im driving home after work, my cars dashboard flickers out, the steering feels wooden, but the car keeps rolling on inertia. Panic hits for a heartbeat, then Im grateful the street is a side road and traffic is light. I manage to pull over, set the handbrake and get out. Like any decent driver, I know the basics oil, washer fluid, coolant anything beyond that needs a garage. In a frenzy I pop the bonnet and stare at the engine, clueless.
Whats wrong with you? I mutter to the car. We were at the mechanic yesterday! The engine stays silent. A passerby chuckles, stops, and asks, It not talking? I reply, Its as quiet as a church on Sunday! He offers to look, pushes me aside and kneels. I step back what else could I do? I cant just barge a stranger away from my broken car.
He asks, Do you always go to the same garage? I say, Yeah, three hundred metres from home. Super convenient I drop it off, pick it up in the morning. He smirks, Your garage just didnt tighten the battery terminal. Thats why it quit. Theyd have charged you a fortune for that. He asks if Ive got any tools in the boot. Im vague, Some stuff in there. He fixes the terminal, the engine roars back to life.
Cant thank you enough, I say. He waves it off, Its nothing. I ask, Why so glum? He sighs, Im a horseless driver now. I joke, Give me a lift home, Im still shaking from that roadside drama! He offers to drive me, I suggest we grab a bite instead of a cab.
We end up at a cosy pub, and over dinner I ask, Did your car really break down? He sighs again, Only because my exwife drove it after the divorce. She took my daughter. Im listening, and the story unfolds: Tom and his exwife Sarah were together almost twenty years, married for that long, had a son, bought a house, went on holidays, the usual. Then Sarah started saying something was missing, wanted more attention, flowers, gifts the whole routine Tom tried to keep up. She eventually moved out, ignored him, then filed for divorce after finding another man.
I nod, having seen that kind of thing before. He tells me about the house they shared, a threebed flat they inherited, the endless repairs Tom, a jackofalltrades, did everything himself. They rented out his old flat for a bit of extra cash. When they finally moved, Tom took a big loan to refurbish his sons new place. Sarah wanted to buy a cottage, so Tom shifted his mortgage to pay it off, leaving only three payments on the car loan. When the divorce came, the court handed the car to Sarah because the loan was in her name, while Toms personal renovation loan stayed with him. Their son got the flat, but Tom ended up with a £2million debt for the renovation, still paying it off.
I say, Your son could let you back in the flat, you know. He laughs, Three times she told him not to let me in! No chance. Now hes stuck with the debt, no house, living with friends, wondering if he should declare bankruptcy or move in with his parents. His monthly mortgage is seventy percent of his salary.
I, being a bit of a lady who cant stand injustice, let Tom stay the night in the spare room, made him breakfast, even washed the dishes. Two months later hes practically my partner. Im amazed at how interesting he is we chat about news, books, films, music, and even in bed he holds his own against younger guys. I helped him clear that looming loan in two months; I run my own business, was gearing up for expansion when we met, and thought Id wait a bit.
Toms gratitude knows no bounds. I never regretted the uneven marriage moneys just money, but the care, protection, tenderness, and love? Hard to find. I was happy until I spotted someone elses clothes on the hallway rack, and then I saw photos of Sarah online. It stung like a slap. I held back tears for the sake of Toms exwife, but later
Tom says, Emily, dont be so down. We had twenty years, good and bad, it just piled up. I shout, Youre a traitor! You not only betrayed me, you betrayed yourself! You tossed her away like rubbish and then forgave her! You never thought of me! When we married you only had debt, I gave you everything a car, paid off your loan, even was about to get the flat in your name, and this is how you repay me? With the woman who humiliated you! He sighs, I get it, I understand, but we were exhausted, needed a break. I tell him he was right to sort the property, thanks for paying off my loan, Ill be grateful forever.
He asks, Can we just move on? I stare at the floor, then shout, Keys to the flat, the car, the card on the table get out of my house right now! He stammers, What?! I snap, You walked in like a fool, leave like a fool. Get the hell out! He huffs, but hes walking away with a smile because I cleared his debt thanks for that.
So there you have it, love. Toms now free to buy a cottage, and Im left sorting through the mess he left behind. Crazy, right? Cheers.
