Now I am 52 years old. And I have nothing. No wife, no family, no children, no job nothing at all.
My name is Peter. My wife and I were married for 30 years. I was always the one who provided for the family, while my wife, Margaret, took care of the home. I never wanted her to work. I was happy knowing she was there. But as time passed, she began to irritate me.
We lived together, respecting one another, but the love had faded. I thought that was normal. It suited me fine. Then, everything changed. One evening, in a pub, I met Helen. She was 20 years younger than mebeautiful, kind, and full of laughter. It felt like a dream come true.
We began seeing each other, and soon she became my mistress. After two months, I realised I no longer wanted to deceive my wife. I dreaded going home after work. I understood then that I loved Helen and wanted her to be my wife.
A few days later, I told Margaret the truth. She didnt make a scene. She stayed calm. I thought she didnt love me either, which was why she took it so well. But now I understand how deeply I wounded her.
We divorced. We sold the flat where we had spent so many years together. Helen insisted I not leave it for my ex-wife, and so I didnt. Margaret bought a small studio. With my savings, I bought a two-bedroom flat for Helen.
I didnt help my ex-wifenot a single penny. I knew she had little money and wouldnt find work straight away. But at the time, I didnt care. Our sons, Thomas and William, refused to speak to me. They believed I had betrayed their mother and couldnt forgive me.
Back then, it hardly mattered to me. Helen was pregnant, and we eagerly awaited the babys arrival. Soon, a son was born. But the boy looked nothing like me or Helen. My friends doubted he was mine. I didnt want to hear it.
Life with Helen was far from happy. I worked long hours, tended to the house, and cared for the child. Helen only ever asked for money and was always out. The flat was a mess, with no meals ever prepared. She would return at three or four in the morning, reeking of drink, picking fights over nothing.
In the end, I lost my job. I was exhausted, angry, and careless in my work. That was my life for three years. Then my brother, who had never approved of Helen and had long suspected the boy wasnt mine, convinced me to take a DNA test. It proved he wasnt my son.
We divorced the moment the truth came out. By then, I had lost all contact with Margaret and my sons. After the divorce, I decided to go back to my first wife. I bought flowers, wine, a cake, and went to see her. But Margaret no longer lived there. The new owner gave me her address.
I went to her. A man opened the door. It turned out Margaret had found a good job and married a colleague. She was happythriving.
Some time later, I saw her in a café. I asked her to take me back. She looked at me as if I were a fool, then walked away. Now I understand the mistake I made. What did I want? What did I achieve? Why did I leave my wife for a younger woman?
Now I am 52 years old. And I have nothing. No wife, no job, not even my sons will speak to me. I lost everything that ever mattered. And it was entirely my fault. Sadly, this is one mistake Ill never be able to undo.
