I met Gini at work, soon after my ex-wife and I had gotten divorced. She ticked all the right boxes for me.
She was bright (PhD in a STEM field), introverted like me, tolerant of my quirks which she either found cute or actually shared. She was also very pretty, turning heads wherever she went, not to mention over 10 years younger than me (34 and 45). But what won me over was her kindness. She was so sweet she often seemed naive.
She soon started coming to see me every day, finding occasions for us to meet in places where we would likely be alone. She showered me with attention, sending me emails and texts, leaving treats on my desk before I arrived, or showing up with a surprise meal she had cooked to my liking.
Gini very quickly opened up about her private life. Her pathologically controlling father who was prone to fits of rage, who forbade her from having any friends and who was still monitoring her every move when she was well into her mid-20s. Her abusive ex, who alternated between screaming at her for the pettiest reasons and contemptuously rejecting her. When I remarked that such frankness was unusual so fast, she said she had immediately felt at ease with me. « I’m an open book for you. »
A month later, she invited me back to her place after work and kissed me as soon as we got there. Over the following 6 weeks, we discovered each other, little by little as she wanted to take things slowly. Then, one Saturday morning, she asked me to make love to her. Being a very late starter and not interested in casual sex, Gini was a bit inexperienced, but she was very sensual and gentle, which I loved. We felt an immediate physical compatibility. « Intense » was how we described it.
In the mornings, she rubbed her face against my arm like a cat, put moisturizing cream on my hands and combed my hair. Honestly, I didn’t need her to do all that but it felt wonderful. We shared the same vision for our relationship. If it developed as well as it had started, moving in together at one point would be the next step. Kids and marriage were possibilities we also agreed on for the more distant future. It all felt so natural and obvious, as if life was giving second chance.
Of course, it was all downhill from there.
Our relationship never really gelled. Something fundamental felt off. Sure, we had our moments. Some perfect mornings here, a few great weekend getaways there, dozens of lovely bicycle rides in the countryside, countless sweet afternoons watching tv in each other’s arms until she fell asleep. But the sincere, affectionate woman I had fallen in love with turned manipulative and aloof. Our conversations boiled down to work, weather and what’s for dinner. She left my texts unread for hours, missed my calls and stood me up several times. She kept on postponing our plans. She never introduced me to her family (« my dad would get mad ») or friends (« I don’t see them because of Covid »). I noticed inconsistencies, even contradictions, in her stories. That abusive ex she had dumped a year earlier ? She was still trying to get pregnant from him less than 5 months before we met. She had told me about another man, her first, with whom she’d been for « much longer » before her ex, but about whom she barely talked. It turns out they had been married. Maybe they still were, for all I know.
Gini left me after two and a half years together, allegedly because her failure to move on with our plans and my growing impatience were too stressful for her to bear. I suspect it really was because she had realized that I saw through her lies and that I was not going to put up with her anymore.
I long hesitated between options 3 and 4. I finally went with 3. I salvaged a few good things from that wreck.