Margaret never expected to come home to find her husband, Martin, frantically digging up their beautiful garden alongside his ex-wife. Their hushed whispers and dirt-stained hands hinted at long-buried secrets. Upon confrontation, Margaret realized Martin wasn’t as perfect as she thought.
I’ve heard of men cheating on their wives with their colleagues, friends, and even exes, but I never thought I’d be forced to think like that about my husband, Martin. I always thought he was the perfect man I could’ve asked for.
We met through a mutual friend two years ago, right after I’d broken up with my ex-boyfriend of five years. I was at my lowest… heartbroken, insecure, and questioning everything about myself.
That’s when Martin came into my life, like a breath of fresh air.
From the moment we met, he was nothing but kind and attentive. He’d listen to me ramble about my day for hours, never once checking his phone or looking bored.
What really won my heart was how he showed up at my doorstep with homemade chicken soup and my favorite rom-com movies downloaded on his laptop.
“Everyone needs a little TLC when they’re sick,” he said with a warm smile.
This is it, I thought. This is the man I’ve been waiting for all my life.
One of the things that endeared Martin to me was his cute little quirk. He’d stammer when he got nervous or stressed, and I found it absolutely adorable.
There was this one time, about a month into our relationship, when he was taking me out to this fancy Italian restaurant for our “monthiversary” (yes, we celebrated those back then).
Martin was all dressed up, telling me about this new accounting software his firm was implementing, getting all excited and animated.
“It’s going to revolutionize how we handle client data,” he said, waving his fork around for emphasis. Suddenly, the fork slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor and splattering tomato sauce all over his shirt.
His face turned red in an instant.
“I-I-I’m so s-sorry,” he stammered, looking mortified. “I d-didn’t m-mean to… Oh g-god, what a m-mess.”
I couldn’t help but find his flustered state endearing. I reached across the table and took his hand.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said softly. “These things happen. Besides, red is totally your color.”
That got a chuckle out of him, and soon we were laughing about it. Later, over tiramisu, he admitted that he tended to stammer when stressed or embarrassed.
As our relationship progressed, Martin opened up more about his past, particularly about his ex-wife, Janet.
“She was always after more,” he’d say, shaking his head. “More money, more things, more status. Nothing was ever enough.”
According to Martin, their marriage had crumbled under the weight of Janet’s insatiable greed. He told me stories of maxed-out credit cards, arguments over designer clothes, and tantrums thrown when they couldn’t afford lavish vacations.
“That’s why we broke up,” he explained one night as we cuddled on the couch. “I just couldn’t keep up with her demands anymore. It was like I was drowning, and she kept pushing my head underwater.”
How could anyone treat such a wonderful man so poorly? I thought.
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