My name is Jessica and at 49 years old, I spent two decades in marriage with my husband, Ethan. Last year, our son ventured off to a university in another state, leaving our home quieter and granting me more free time. However, to support our son financially, I took up a part-time job, a shift from my previous role as a stay-at-home mom.
Initially, this transition posed its challenges, but lately, I’ve found a sense of fulfillment as my contributions at work have been acknowledged and valued. Excitedly, I shared news of a modest raise with Ethan one evening, basking in the recognition of my efforts. But the mood shifted abruptly when Ethan, seemingly detached, dropped a bombshell.
So, you’re saying you can live on your own now? Confusion clouded my mind as I tried to comprehend his words? Then, with a smirk on his face, he disclosed that he had found a new girlfriend and saw no me for our marriage anymore. Stunned and shaken, I couldn’t process the suddeness of his declaration.
“What do you mean?” I stammered, the ground feeling unsteady beneath me. His callousness cut deep as he dismissed our marriage with ease, instructing me to procure divorce papers the next day. His words pierced through me, accusing me of having given up on being a woman, insinuating blame for our dwindling intimacy.
Furious and hurt, I couldn’t believe the audacity of his words. Yes, our relationship had faltered over time, but it wasn’t because I had abandoned my womanhood. It was a culmination of various factors, none of which warranted such cruelty and disregard. I feel an unexpected attraction towards a middle-aged man in his 50s, despite his extra weight, and it unsettles me.
Frustrated and bewildered by my own feelings, a mix of anger and amusement bubbles up, causing me to burst into laughter. I’m tired, busy, it’s a hassle. I manage between chuckles. You were the one dodging me with those excuses. And now suddenly, you want to play the man card. That’s rich. But my laughter fades when I see Ekan’s face darken with anger.
His tone shifts laced with bitterness and disrespect as he lashes out with harsh, vulgar words. His posture exudes arrogance as he leans back, crossing his arms, boasting about his apparent affair partner, Ashley. Ashley is different. He snears, mocking me for my excitement over a modest pay raise. She’s head over heels for me, calling me the best boyfriend ever.
Look at you, thrilled over a tiny raise. How pathetic. With a sense of superiority, Ethan regails me with details about Ashley, emphasizing her youth and vitality. She’s in her mid20s, working in the nightlife scene for over a decade, he boasts, ignoring the vast age gap between us and the fact that we have a son nearly 20 years old.
It’s a stark reminder of the unorthodox dynamics of their relationship with a partner barely older than her own child. Now expecting a child of her own with Ethan, I felt like I was losing my mind, drowning in a sea of revulsion. Life, I believed, should be about love, but not the cold, hard, and kind that Ethan embodied, resembling a moldy rice cake.
No, love should be vibrant, enduring, like the fresh, plump skin of Ashley. That to Aan seemed worth every penny. a love that justified spending money. With a tongue rolling with fervor, my husband ranted, extolling the virtues of love bought with wealth. His eyes sparkled with desire for Ashley while he turned a blind eye to his own aging self.
When I dared to confront him about Ashley’s motives, he erupted in a whirlwind of anger. “It’s not about money, it’s about love,” he spat, his words dripping with venom. And then with a chilling finality, he declared his intention to marry Ashley, ordering me to pack my belongings and leave. His callousness stunned me into silence, leaving me speechless and incredulous.
Yet amidst the chaos, a realization dawned upon me. The last time Ethan had uttered the word love to me felt like ins ago. I couldn’t help but find the situation absurd, for I knew with time Eken’s fervor for Ashley would wne just as his affection for me had dwindled. In the end, his venomous words would find a new target directed at Ashley herself.
And as I stood there absorbing his disdain, I couldn’t help but pity him. Pathetic indeed. I should have seen the signs long before we exchanged vows. Reflecting on our marriage, I realized I’ve carried the burden of housework and child care alone. While my husband never lifting a finger to help, only offered criticism for what I hadn’t done.
In those days, appreciation or affection were foreign concepts. and now he’s discarding me for a younger woman after all my efforts. It felt surreal, like a decision born of madness. Yet Ethan dismissed my protests as mere bitterness. “No problem,” he shrugged, casually mentioning paperwork for our separation to be done on his next day off before retreating into his room.
“For days, I wrestled with sleepless nights and tears of frustration, though outwardly, I maintained composure. Then, on his next day off, my husband brazenly invited his new flame to our home.” Hello, Ekkins X. She greeted me with a smirk, casually lounging our sofa. Ashley, as she introduced herself, exuded confidence, flaunting her smooth skin and bold attire.
Her occupation in the nightlife scene was evident in her flashy makeup and revealing attire, leaving me unsure where to direct my gaze. Despite her overt display of aure, I sense a lack of genuine affection for my husband. If my intuition served me right, her intentions were far from sincere. Prepared for divorce, I confronted her, initially resigned to the inevitable.
Yet something about her demeanor set off alarm bells. Ashley, did you pursue a relationship with Ethan fully aware of his marriage? I inquired, hoping for some semblance of understanding. She laughed dismissively. I’m not naive, old lady. She sneered, her condescension palpable. You’re the one who’s being replaced. Ethan and I are headed towards a civil arrangement.
Her arrogance graded on me, but I maintain my composure, revealing the recorder hidden in my pocket. Your confidence might falter when this recording surfaces. You’re aware I can seek compensation for your involvement. Indignant, she complained to Athan, who attempted to pacify her, assuring her of a preconceived plan.
Their collusion sickened me as I watched on in disgust. Ethan then produced documents outlining the terms of our divorce, including alimony and pension division. Ashley’s disdain for the arrangement was evident, her eyes fixed greedily on what she perceived as her rightful share of Ethan’s inheritance. With thinly veiled displeasure, Ethan reassured her, attempting to plate her with promises of child support.
To him, her blatant greed seemed endearing, further fueling my anger. as she casually dismissed my settlement as a mere deduction from her own share. My patience waned, struggling to contain my fury. In the face of their callousness, I struggled to find solace, grappling with the bitter reality of their selfish intentions.
Confident in my intuition, I proposed a solution, insisting on no terrorized documents to formalize the divorce terms. I kept my response, Kurt, mindful of the recording device capturing our conversation. My husband, aware of the evidence against him, reluctantly agreed to my terms. “Are you satisfied now?” My husband’s new companion interjected, visibly impatient.
“Make sure you’re gone by the end of the month,” she demanded, clearly eager to take over my role in our home. With the noterized document finalized, our divorce proceeded swiftly, as if waiting for the opportunity, the woman wasted no time in asserting her dominance, urging me to leave with an air of amusement. Now that I’ve submitted our marriage registration, “I’m Ethan’s wife,” she declared triumphantly, relishing in her newfound status, I handed over the keys to our home, resigned to my fate.
“Before departing, I couldn’t help but question her choice.” “Isn’t Ethan the same age as your parents?” I inquired, highlighting the irony of her insults towards me. Her response was telling. “You call me old, yet he’s older than you,” she retorted defensively. “Why did you choose him as your partner?” I pressed further, curious about her motivations.
When I posed the question, her response echoed my expectations perfectly. “Ethan is a division manager at a top tier company,” she began, her eyes glimmering with anticipation. “This house, recently renovated and conveniently located near the station, will be transformed to my liking.” She drifted into a daydream, envisioning a life where Ethan would cater to her every whim.
He might not be the most attractive or youthful, she conceded, but he’s promised to fulfill all my desires. With him, my future feels secure. Her smirk, laden with satisfaction, seemed almost mocking. With a resigned sigh, I departed from the home where I’d spent countless years. Settling into a dormatory at a university, I embrace a new role as a leaven dormatory mother, a rare opportunity these days.
Prior to this, I had juggled part-time work at a company cafeteria. But now, thanks to the support of my understanding boss, I found solace in this fresh start. Grateful for the chance to embark on a new chapter, I revealed in the comfort of my modest accommodation. Despite the limited free time, the fulfilling work, and affordable living costs made it all worthwhile.
And as I settled into this new life, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me. I received an unexpected call from my ex-husband, stirring up emotions I thought I had left behind. Mom is in bad shape. Can you help with her care? He pleaded as if we were still entwined in each other’s lives. But we were strangers now, and I reminded him of that fact.
It’s your young wife’s responsibility, I retorted, pointing out the obvious. His explanation that Ashley was pregnant and mom’s dementia made her prone to violent outbursts sounded like twisted logic to me. So, it’s okay for her to throw things at me. I countered, refusing his request without hesitation. Don’t call me anymore.
I snapped, cutting off any further discussion. Our paths had diverged, and I had no intention of intertwining them again. Despite being my mother-in-law for two decades, our relationship had remained distant. Besides, I had just begun to carve out my own independent life with neither the time nor the resources to provide care elsewhere.
Yet, my ex-husband somehow tracked me down and showed up unannounced, accompanied by his new partner. If you can’t help, at least return the money we paid as consolation, he demanded, his request bordering on the absurd. I saw no obligation to comply, and I made that clear with a cold dismissal. But his companion’s glare was anything but passive, accusing me of deceit.
She unleashed her frustration with a scream. Hurling documents in my direction, scattering them across the room. As I watched the papers flutter to the ground, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of vindication amidst the chaos. I didn’t deceive anyone. You merely assumed Ethan had assets of his own. I shrugged deliberately, emphasizing my indifference.
While settling my late father-in-law’s estate, I discovered a significant amount of debt. Disclaiming the inheritance could have resolved the issue, but Ethan had already taken action. He terminated his father’s mobile contract and sold off household items and valuables for quick cash. Unfortunately, this violated the law, preventing us from disclaiming the inheritance due to prior interaction with the assets.
With a hint of triumph, I explained how Athan’s actions had left him and his partner responsible for the debt. Ethan dumped all the inheritance paperwork on me without heeding my advice. I accused, turning to address Ashley directly. “Did you use that money to further your relationship with him?” I demanded, frustrated by their disregard for the consequences.
Eken argued, claiming I should have informed him sooner, but that’s precisely what I had been trying to convey. Their failure to listen and take responsibility together only exacerbated the situation. I knew nothing about this, I asserted, watching the woman grow pale and flustered. So, you’re just going to pretend you’re innocent and run off with the money? They pressed me hard, but I remained unfazed.
It’s ironic you say that. I retort it. If you hadn’t cheated, you wouldn’t have needed money for your affair. You could have relinquished your inheritance. I pointed out the frustration evident in my voice. You’re the one who caused this mess. He groaned and retreated while I turned my attention to Ashley. You knew he was married, pursued him for his assets, had a child, and then kicked me out.
This is the position you wanted, isn’t it? I admonished, feeling a surge of anger. And as for you, I continued addressing my ex-husband. Remember the notary’s divorce documents. I received alimony, pension division, and child support from Ethan. But beyond that, I can also claim alimony from you.
Her disbelief turned into insults, but I stood my ground. I would have let it go if you hadn’t come up with absurd demands like taking care of his mother or returning the alimony I received. I declared my resolve unwavering. As she ran off, I turned to Aan, his tearful plea falling on de ears. No way. Please leave, I insisted, I’m moved by his sudden show of remorse.
He didn’t deserve any mercy considering his past actions. True to my expectations, the woman vanished, leaving behind only a divorce notice. It turned out our pregnancy was a lie, too. Left to grapple with his debt and his mother’s care, my ex-husband withered away from stress and overwork. Meanwhile, I found fulfillment as a dorm mother for kids the same age as my son.
And as people remarked on my youthful appearance, I resolved to live honestly, free from arrogance or deceit. A cautionary tale reminding everyone to tread carefully when navigating divorce.