I Pushed My Son to Divorce His Wife—Now I Regret It More Than Ever…

Managed to get my son divorcedthen rather wished I hadnt

My daughter-in-law dropped my granddaughter off for the weekend again, grumbled my neighbour Barbara as we bumped into each other on the stairs. Cant get the child to eat a proper meal! Tells me, Mummy says princesses dont eat much! Eats two bites, then nothing! Shes turning green with hunger, absolutely glowing!

Barbara had never taken a shine to her son Thomas wifeSophiefrom the get-go. The crime? Sophie was a full seven years older than Thomas. Thomas was practically a baby, having just finished his A-levels.

Hed never even known a woman before her! Barbara fumed. No wonder he was besotted! She reeled him in with her experience, thats what happened!

Sophie, to her credit, was a proper dazzler. Always kept fit, dressed smartly, making a serious go of her career. I could hardly blame Thomas for falling head over heels. Men are visual creatures, after all, and she certainly gave him something to look at.

Sophie was devoted to her diet and wholesome eating, and naturally tried to raise her daughter the same way: eat moderately, dont stuff yourself, and always mind your health and figure.

Just a few months after they started seeing each other, Sophie got pregnant. Maybe to spite the future mother-in-law, who was hellbent on sabotaging things, or perhaps she simply fancied marriage. Or maybe it was just one of those thingsdoes it even matter? Thomas was dead set on marrying Sophie. Hed just hit 18; she was a mature 25.

After getting his grades, Thomas enrolled at the local college, juggling work on the side to support his fresh new family. The young couple first rented, then scraped together enough for a tiny flat in a shared house.

They were perfectly content, but Barbara wasnt about to surrender. She always found something to criticise: Sophies cooking, Sophies ironing, Sophies choice of baby clothes. In Barbaras eyes, Sophie could do nothing rightonly wrong. No matter the situation, Barbara picked and prodded, always finding new flaws to point out.

Inevitably, Sophie limited any and all contact. She took her daughter to nursery, gymnastics, chess club, you name it. Barely had time to sprint from work to collect her, dash to clubs, fit in her own workout, squeeze in a manicure, pop into the hairdresser She was at home so little, it might as well have been a hotel.

Thomas would come home to a flat that felt emptier than a Monday morning bank branch. Daughter off at activities, wife either shuttling around with the child or engrossed in her own universe.

One evening, the friendly neighbour from down the corridora certain Margaret, a widowed mother of two teenagers, aged 38knocked on their door. The communal kitchen tap had burst, threatening to flood the lower floors. Would Thomas be a dear and fix it?

Thomas, being handy, got right to it. Water off, toolbox fetched, pipe wrangled While he performed minor plumbing miracles, Margaret rustled up some bangers and mash, offering Thomas a grateful plate for his trouble. Sophie wasnt much for frying sausages these dayshadnt time for home-cooked anything.

From then on, Margaret regularly invited Thomas for suppercomfort food and warm conversation, just the thing when his wife and daughter were out. Before long, a certain spark flickered between them; neither could quite put their finger on where it all began, but suddenly evenings apart felt utterly incomplete.

Communal living has a way of making everything public, and soon enough, a vigilant neighbour felt obliged to inform Sophie that her husbands visits to Margaret werent for book club.

The resulting row could be heard halfway down the street. Sophie, ever the proud woman, packed Thomas things and chucked them in the hall with the efficiency of a champion sprinter.

No point going to his parentstoo late, too awkward. Besides, where else could he go but to Margaret, who welcomed him with open arms?

At the time, Thomas and Sophies daughter was six. Thomas was 25, Sophie 32, and Margaret, cheerful as you like, 39.

When Barbara got wind of Thomas marital ructions, she was over the moonher campaign had succeeded! Then she heard hed moved in with a woman fourteen years his senior, and with two teenagers to bootand suddenly, the crusader in her fell silent

It caught me off guard, I must say. For years shed persecuted Sophie simply for being older than her precious son, and here she was, perfectly contentsilent acceptance or dawning realisation of her own mischief?

For the record, all this drama diverged a good fifteen years ago. Thomas has now spent all those years happily side by side with Margaret. Theyve no shared children, yet harmony reigns. Despite the age gap, Thomas at forty and Margaret at fifty-four, Barbara welcomes them without complaintno spats, no drama, just a blissful English idyll. And if you ask me, Thomas looks genuinely content for the first time ever.

Well then, what do you thinkis there room for happiness when shes the older one?