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Two wrongs made us right!

When I found out Paul had been with other girls, I made an extraordinary choice...


Published by: Dawn Murden and Paul Carter
Published on: 1 November 2012

Talk about a brick wall! ‘Paul!' I shouted for the third time. ‘What?' my boyfriend mumbled, his eyes barely straying from the laptop.
‘You've been on that thing all night,' I grumbled. I managed to bite my tongue before moaning. It'd been every night that week...
Instead, I took a deep breath. ‘I'm going up to bed,' I smiled. ‘Why don't you come and keep me warm?'
‘Yeah, in a minute,' he mumbled.
I stormed upstairs. If there was one thing we'd never had a problem with during our two years together, it was sex.
One kiss on a dancefloor in a club when we met and that was it, bang! We'd fallen head over heels for each other.
‘Forget about dinner,' Paul used to murmur, as I cooked. I'd lost count of the number of burnt meals we'd ended up throwing in the bin! But not anymore.
‘What if he's traded me in for a younger model?' I sobbed to my friend Sarah, 25, the next day. I was 10 years older than Paul. ‘I'm sure it's nothing,' she soothed.
A few weeks later, though, another friend, Stacey, called. ‘I'm so sorry. Paul was chatting up my friend on the dating website Plenty of Fish,' she said. ‘She recognised him from when we met at the pub.'
The little rat! I paced the house until he came in.
‘You've been trying it on with other women,' I shouted.
‘I'd never do that,' he cried.
But I wasn't convinced. So the next day, when he was at work, I logged on to the site.
After five attempts, I cracked his profile password. Opening his inbox, anger surged through me. He'd messaged dozens of girls, met some, too.
How could you?I hissed to myself.
As I sat there, the screen swimming through my tears,
I thought back to all the good times we'd had. The day trips to the beach when we'd roll our jeans up and see who could paddle the furthest out, the way he'd bring me lillies if I'd had a bad day...
Yet, all the time he was betraying me. ‘I'll show you,' I mumbled, wiping my tears away.
I live nearby, I typed to a girl he'd been flirting with. Let's meet up. Then I deleted everything I'd sent and prayed he'd think she'd made the first move! She was a young, slim brunette. Just your type, I thought, bitterly. My plan worked. ‘I'm going to a mate's tonight,' Paul said the next morning. As soon as he left, I checked his messages. He'd arranged to meet the brunette at the local chip shop tonight. I'd gone fishing and he'd taken
the bait.
That night, I hurried down to the chippy and waited inside until I spotted him. The git was even wearing the new checked shirt I'd bought him!
‘Your date not here yet?' I shouted, storming out.
‘Portia!' he gasped.
‘I've seen the messages!' I shouted. Then I launched my chips at him and stormed home.
Finally, I broke down. ‘I can't believe you've done this!'
I sobbed, staring at the picture of us on my bedside table. We looked so happy... Paul was obviously too scared to come home, but he kept calling and texting.
‘What?' I snapped, answering it.
‘I'm sorry,' he begged. ‘I only kissed them. It was a mistake. Please give me another chance.'
‘Once a cheater always a cheater,' I yelled, hanging up. I felt so awful afterwards. I was physically sick and couldn't eat.
‘A broken heart will do that,' Sarah soothed. But only then something else occurred. My period was late.
‘No,' I groaned. A pregnancy test confirmed it. I was pregnant.
‘Poor baby, coming into this mess,' I sighed. Still, I had to be mature, so I invited Paul over.
He immediately reached for my hand. ‘No! I don't want you back,' I told him. ‘I'm pregnant.'
His eyes lit up. ‘I promise I'll be there,' he said. ‘I'll be the best daddy. Then maybe you'll forgive me.'
‘Fat chance,' I scoffed.
I still loved him, but I couldn't trust him. Bless him, though - he really made the effort. He came to every appointment and wept when the doctor said we were having a girl! He popped round every day to see how I was, too.
‘I'm tired,' I said, one night. ‘But I'm craving a Chinese.'
‘Put your feet up,' he said. ‘I'll go shopping and make a chicken stir fry.'
‘My favourite,' I smiled. It really felt like the old days. He'd always rustle me up something scrummy when I was poorly before. I could feel my heart starting to thaw...
When I got close to my due date, Paul slept on the sofa until finally I went into labour. He held my hand until I gave birth to Sienna.
‘She's beautiful,' he sobbed.
In that moment, watching him cradle our daughter, I knew I owed it to Sienna, to myself, to try again with Paul. He'd devoted himself to us.
‘Will you come home with us?' I asked.
‘Of course,' he whispered. ‘It's all I've ever wanted. I love you.'
At first, everything was great. He was a wonderful dad and treated me like a queen. But
I couldn't shake the niggly doubts I had about him.
I'd watched him delete his Plenty of Fish profile, but every time he went on the computer, anger surged through me.
‘What are you doing on there?' I snapped.
I checked his email, and his phone every day. I never found anything, but I couldn't trust him. He'd made me feel so worthless, that I couldn't climb out of this pit of rage.
A few weeks later, I went out with the girls and a man came up to me. He had twinkly blue eyes.
‘I'm Carl,' he grinned. ‘You're just gorgeous.'
‘Thank you,'
I blushed, flattered. I was still carrying extra baby weight and needed all the flattery I could
get to boost my confidence.
After chatting for a bit, Carl leaned in for a kiss. At first, I hesitated. But I was tipsy after just a couple of wines and Paul's betrayal flashed
through my mind.
‘Maybe now he'll know how I felt,' I thought. So I kissed him... And I didn't feel an ounce of guilt. Even when I crawled into bed at 3am, I just felt like
I was back in control again. ‘Good night?' Paul murmured.
‘The best,'
I grinned. I felt so naughty and powerful! Was this what revenge felt like?
So when Carl, 29, asked me to meet him the next day, the lie slipped off my tongue.
‘I'm going to Sarah's,' I fibbed.
We met a couple times, yet I wanted Paul to catch me
out, to feel as bad I had. Finally, my plan worked.
A few days later, my phone beeped. I was cooking.
‘You've got a text,' Paul said, reading it. Then his face dropped. ‘Miss you, can't wait for Saturday. What the hell is this?' he gasped.
‘This guy I've been seeing for six weeks,' I shrugged. ‘Doesn't feel nice does it?'
I expected him to start ranting. Instead he burst into tears. ‘I've done everything I could to make it up to you,' he cried. ‘And you just wanted revenge?' Suddenly,
I didn't feel that good anymore.
Paul had done everything to make it up to me. Yet, some silly part of me needed revenge. Now I'd got it. But at what cost?
‘Don't go,' I sobbed, as he stormed out.
I spent the next week in tears. ‘What have I done, Sienna?'
I sobbed. Then, finally, Paul agreed to talk.
‘I wanted you to know how it felt. I was stupid,' I said. ‘I don't know why I doubted you.'
He sat in silence staring at me. ‘Please,' I wept. Suddenly I felt him hug me.
‘I forgive you,' he whispered. Thank god...
Four months on, we're closer than ever. Neither of
us have behaved particularly well in the past, but we've been able to forgive each other and are so much stronger as a result.
And I know revenge is far from sweet!
Portia Haywood, 32, Oldham, Lancashire