I went back to the man who betrayed me… Did I make a mistake?
Life, as we know, has a way of playing tricks—it throws curveballs no one could ever predict. I never believed in the idea that “you never forget your first love” until I found myself in a situation where the past suddenly knocked on my door… and I let it in.
My name is Emily, and I’m from Manchester. My story isn’t some glossy magazine romance. It’s real life—sometimes bitter, sometimes oddly fair. And yes, I went back to the man who once betrayed me. He left me for someone else. And I… forgave. Or lost my mind? You tell me.
First Love: Bright as a Summer’s Day
It all began in school. James and I were the couple everyone talked about in our year. Tall, blond, athletic—he played for the youth football team. A proper heartthrob, like a young Paul Newman. All the girls sighed over him, but I was the one he chose. I still remember the jealous whispers from friends, the sideways glances from the lads.
After graduation, we stayed together. He never had to do national service—thanks to his sports scholarship—while I went to university to study literature. Two years later, he enrolled too. We married young, convinced we knew everything about love and life.
Three years later, we divorced.
Shattered Dreams and Betrayal
At first, he was affectionate, caring. But slowly, he changed. He didn’t even hide his affairs. Became cold, distant. I lost two babies—both times from the stress. I was jealous, heartbroken, trying to salvage what was crumbling before my eyes. But in the end, he left. For her. One of his flings, yet somehow, she convinced him to walk away.
I suffered. For years. The worst part? I’d spent my last days scrubbing the windows of the new flat we were meant to move into together. Instead, she moved in, and I was left alone—with nothing but the grit in my soul and the feeling I’d been tossed aside like an old rag.
A Second Chance
Then came Thomas. Older, a colleague, quiet and steady. He knew my pain. Listened. Never pushed. His love didn’t need grand gestures—it was just there. We lived in peace, no games, no doubts.
We never had children—it just didn’t happen. But it didn’t matter. He was my everything. Ten years in, we finally married.
I thought it would last forever.
A Blow from Fate
Thomas died suddenly. His heart. No one knew he was ill. Only after the funeral did the solicitor tell me he’d had a rare condition. He’d made sure I’d be cared for—signed over his father’s house, the land, everything.
That’s why he never pressed for kids. He wanted me free, even without him.
I tried to move on. Worked, lived as he’d have wanted. But my heart was hollow.
The Past Returns
Nearly a decade passed. Then one day, James called. Yes, that James. Divorced. Penniless. And he wasn’t asking for a chat or a coffee—he wanted me to meet him at the solicitor’s.
Turns out, that flat he’d moved into with her? It was still half mine. We’d bought it just before the divorce. Back then, I hadn’t even noticed the legal details.
Now he needed to sell. Without my signature, he couldn’t.
Oh, how I’d waited for this moment! My revenge. I could refuse. Make him suffer as I had. I was ready to.
Then I saw him.
Starting Over
He’d aged. Thinner. His eyes—less bold, more tired. His voice, softer, hesitant. We had tea after the appointment. Talked. I laughed. He listened. He was different. Broken. Quieter.
I signed the papers. And then… we started seeing each other. Slowly. No grand plans. Just two lonely people who’d once known every inch of each other’s souls.
Months later, he asked me to visit the old cottage. Where we’d been happy. And you know what? I said yes.
Now we’re together. Again. With James, of all people. I hear friends mutter, “She’s lost the plot.” Maybe. But it’s my life. My first love became my last.
Maybe it was foolish. But only to those who’ve never had to chase happiness—even when it wears the face of the past.
Sometimes the only way forward is to go back.
