When I met my boyfriend, I had just turned 40, secure in my job, owned my little townhouse, but nursing a broken heart after breaking up with a boyfriend of 22 years.
We attended a company dinner given by my boss who happened to be his schoolmate. We were seated together and talked nonstop until the party ended.
He offered to take me home but I declined as I brought my own ride. I didn’t see him again until another event. This time, he cornered me, got my number and insisted we meet for coffee the following day.
I learned he was in his late 50s, married with four kids all out of college. His wife was into charity work with other wives of corporate executives.
We started an affair that would see us meeting here and abroad. He wouldn’t separate from his wife because she hadn’t done anything wrong, he said. He upgraded my townhouse into a condo and we were like a married couple in the way we spent time together.
Then suddenly, I didn’t hear from him for two whole days. No calls, no visits, nothing. It was his driver who called to tell me my boyfriend’s wife died suddenly from a massive heart attack. I tried to reach out to him but received no reply. The driver said he was mourning deeply. He was just in his room and wouldn’t even eat.
A week later, the driver called to say my boyfriend passed away, also from a massive stroke. He got so sick from grief and guilt—I guess that included our relationship, thus ending an affair of over 20 years.
People actually die from grief.
He must have wanted to mend his ways and show his remorse, had he been given another hour or two to show her what she meant to him. He would have turned back time, had he known how meaningless life would be and he would actually die without her in his life.
His wife’s death dealt him a truly devastating blow, that he completely obliterated you when she passed on. It’s as though he willed himself to die and follow her, just so he can ask for her forgiveness.
It’s stunning how fate brought you to your knees after your life with your boyfriend fell apart. Death somehow shredded into oblivion all the pages of your relationship, in an instant, with nary a goodbye.