My wife’s decision to leave me and the children not only caused me to be devastated and angry, but it also left me with a tonne of questions from my girls and my whole family, ones I was unable to answer.
My ten-year marriage, which I thought was perfect, ended as if it had never happened.
Melissa grew aloof and spent more time on social media and her phone than with the daughters in the latter months of my marriage to her.
Something in her seemed to change. Her former self had vanished.
Then she abruptly told me she wanted to leave the marriage.
“We have two daughters together, Melissa, so it’s not just about you and me,” I said in an attempt to persuade her to reconsider.
She refused to listen to my entreaties, which became begging in the days that followed.
I tried to talk to Melissa about what was bothering her and we could work on whatever was causing her to feel this way, but she seemed intent on getting out.
Even though we had nannies for the daughters as they grew up and could afford to take family trips twice a year, my wife appeared to want more.
She declared, “I’ve found myself.” “I wish for something different.” After that, she grabbed her things and went.
Brokenhearted, I was juggling work, housework, and looking after my daughters. I didn’t know the answer, and on top of that, my whole family wanted to know why my marriage ended like a bubble.
My life was rocked by the girls’ incessant enquiries about when their mother would be home.
My wife left before I could even tell her I had been diagnosed with cancer, which was the worst thing of all.
I eventually discovered Melissa’s real motivation for making the choice a few weeks later. She was with her financial counsellor, a different man.
Looking through his Instagram, I came across pictures of them travelling to Paris and dining at fancy five-star restaurants.
My wife left me and the children to enjoy herself while her daughters put blank gaps on their crayon drawings in the hopes that she would return.
It hurt a lot, especially for Sophie and Emily, who missed their mother.
However, we were able to adjust to Melissa’s absence over time. My days were spent juggling my obligations and the exhausting, protracted chemotherapy treatments. The main thing I was worried about was my daughters losing their father.
The year after that was a living horror. I was so sick from the agonising chemotherapy that I was scarcely able to stand. I lost a good deal of weight and my hair. However, I didn’t give up.
Twelve rounds of chemotherapy and several radiotherapies later, I was cancer-free after all those hardships.
Then, two years after my wife left us, I ran into her at a petrol station, and it felt almost poetically right. After all that time, it felt unreal to see her. I couldn’t believe what I saw. “That’s you, Melissa?” When I first got out of my car, I asked.
As if her whole world had fallen apart, she appeared frail and elderly.
Melissa first made an effort to avoid me, but she later asked to speak with me at the closest park.
Now she was heartbroken, the self-assured lady who desired more from life than to be with her husband and kids. She wished she had never left and pleaded to be back in touch with her daughters.
With firmness, I answered, “No, Melissa.” They were unhappy for a long time after their mother abandoned them. However, they are currently thriving after eventually moving on.
Marco, her new partner, was a phoney who left her broke.
At one point, I even felt sad for my wife because she made bad decisions and left me and the kids, but I refused to allow her tears affect my mind.
I deserved better, and so did my children.
