Finding ourselves in heated arguments, Mark’s behaviour left me confused.
So, in February 2020, after yet another alcohol-fuelled row, I ventured up to the bedroom to cool off.
‘Please leave,’ I asked, as Mark followed me, charging into the room.
Only, slamming the door so hard behind him, the handle came off in his hands.
‘Look what you’ve made me do,’ Mark bellowed – blaming me for his actions.
I couldn’t believe it – the man standing in front of me had changed and it wasn’t right.
‘You’re 53, this is not the right thing to do,’ I sobbed, trying to compose myself.
‘I’m so sorry, I love you so much,’ Mark apologised.
And despite his actions leaving me shocked, it was hard not to believe him.
Looking at me in such a way with the biggest blue eyes I had ever seen, it was like Mark was a naughty boy that I had to forgive.
My stomach churned if I didn’t forgive him – I always wanted to make it work.
As when we were good, we were great – the perfect couple in fact.
So much so,
