Emma, both you and your husband share the blame for this divorce, the therapist said, meeting my eyes.
Me? No! Hes the one who tore the family apart! I snapped.
Emma, when a marriage ends, responsibility is equal5050. Not 9010 or 6040. You couldnt build a healthy partnership, Dr. Sarah Bennett replied calmly, her voice steady.
What should I do? I have two girls. My ex loves them, but I despise him. How can I manage? I wanted to believe her, as if she held a magic wand that could set everything right.
First, calm down. You cant rush thisif you do, youll break. Who will look after the children? They need a stable mother, not a hysteric one. Are you thinking of entering a new relationship?
Never! Ill never be disappointed again, I whispered, tears beginning to fall.
Dont rush. Youre still young; life lies ahead. Why did you marry in the first place?
For happiness, I admitted, sobbing.
Everyone seeks happiness, yet many end up divorcing. School teaches us maths, not marital wisdom. The result? Couples rush into marriage, then run away crying as the years slip by, and youth fades.
I gave everything to the family! I endured my husband for fifteen years while he was passivenever noticing anything. Im fed up. I cant even look at him now. Our love is shattered, I vented.
I have a proposal. Are you willing to try, Emma? Dr. Bennett smiled mischievously.
What is it? I asked, perking up.
Im sure youll want to date again eventually. Take a pause and find a practice boy, so to speak. Use him to relearn the art of living with a man, to feel comfortable, she said, eyes probing.
And where would I find such a fool? I wondered.
You dont have to look. Your practice boy could be your exhusband.
How? I asked, bewildered.
Since you dont miss him, you have nothing to lose. Treat it as an experimenta winwin situation.
I decided to give it a shot. After all, I had nothing to lose. I wasnt sorry for Peter Hughes; let him go.
Peter had become such a nuisance that I packed my daughters, Lucy and Sophie, and moved into a rented flat in Manchester. The court granted the divorce. Peter begged me to reconsider, but I burned every bridge.
For the first time in years I felt free. Peter, desperate, sent cheap gifts, flowers, even invited me to a spa. His attention was late and flimsy. I was exhausted. He still refused to accept it was over.
When I settled into my new flat, I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt like I was finally soaring above the clouds.
Then my girls dragged me back to reality.
Mum, why is Daddy to blame? Lucy asked.
I was stunned. How could I explain to them that life with their father was no longer an option? His words felt like windempty, suffocating, painting everything in drab greys.
Thats when I returned to Dr. Bennett for guidance.
The experiment began. A month after the split, I called Peter.
Hey, Peter. How are you? Fancy meeting up? I have a few things to ask, I said.
Megan? Is that you? Of course, lets meet. Anytime! he replied, his voice bubbling with excitement.
We met on a park bench. Peter kept trying to sit closer, to take my hand. We talked about nothing at all. He walked me home, kissed my cheek, and handed my daughters some sweets.
When I looked out the window as I entered my flat, Peter was still standing outside. I waved, and he sent an air kiss back.
Those casual meetups with my ex suited me perfectlyno fights, no broken dishes, just bright, vivid colours returning to my life.
We started seeing each other once a month: cafés, the cinema, the park. My days were woven with joy, and I began to imagine a future that included Peter again.
A year later, I asked, Peter, are we meeting today?
Sorry, Megan, Im swamped. Ill call you when Im free, he replied, hanging up.
The same answer came three or four times. Anxiety crept in. Had someone else taken his place? Was he seriously moving on? Jealousy gnawed at me, so I called him again.
Peter, the girls miss you. Lets take them to the zoo.
Emma, Im at the hospital with my wife, he said, breathless.
What wife? Are you joking? I shouted.
No joke, Megan. Were expecting a baby, Lily. He hung up.
Stunned, I could only manage, Goodbyes then. I wish you a cloudless happiness.
In the silence that followed, I realized that clinging to the past had only kept me from truly living. Letting go of Peter, embracing my own strength, and trusting that life would bring new, genuine connections became my path forward. The lesson is clear: love yourself enough to release what no longer serves you, for only then can you welcome the true happiness that awaits.
