Whose buttons did Xbox rat want to press?
My hubby had a favourite hobby, one that helped me catch him red-handed...
Some guys play football, others play Call of Duty!
Kelly Allan, 40, Scarborough
Rocking my newborn back and forth, I glanced to where my hubby Michael, 31, was sitting.
‘Are you going to help?’ I barked.
‘I’m in the middle of an important match,’ he moaned.
It was clear what Michael’s priorities were.
Xbox first, us never.
It hadn’t always been like this.
When we’d been introduced by mutual friends in October 2014, we’d hit it off instantly.
Swapping numbers a couple of days later, he’d come to stay with me then never really left.
Some of my mates reckoned it was a flash-in-the-pan romance. That it would fizzle out.
But I insisted, ‘When it’s true love, you just know.’
Plus, Michael always found new ways to surprise me.
Whether it was a sweet note left on my pillow, or flowers that he bought on his way home. I felt like the luckiest girl alive. He doted on my girls, Carly, then 6, and Lilly, 3, both from a previous relationship.
He’d spoil them with days out, cuddle up on the sofa watching TV or read to them. We were one big happy family. But from time to time, Michael was adamant I would leave him.
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I’d protest.
‘You will, though – you’ll leave me because of my gaming,’ he’d say to me.
True, you could say that Michael had something of an obsession with his games console.
I’d noticed early on his Xbox was his pride and joy.
He’d even set up his own gaming suite in our dining room.
The full works, with every game going, dual screens, gaming chair and headset.
It didn’t faze me, though.
Everyone needs a hobby – some guys play football, others play Call of Duty.
Besides, I knew that me and the girls came first.
We married in March 2016, and a year later, we had a little surprise. ‘I’m pregnant,’ I squeaked. ‘That’s great news! Another new member of the Allan Family,’ Michael smiled. But just one month into my pregnancy, Michael started to become distant. Gone were the times when he’d sit and read to the girls. He barely even looked at them, or me for that matter. The only thing he was interested in was that bloomin’ Xbox. ‘Anyone would think you’re married to that thing,’ I spat. He groaned, shrugging it off. Then I noticed something strange. Michael’s mobile was now completely password protected. And if I ever went near it, he’d jump for it, telling me to mind my own business. Months passed – and as my bump grew larger, so did my suspicions. Then Gracie-leigh arrived last December – but instead of revelling in his daughter, Michael didn’t seem interested. When she cried, he turned the volume up on his games. When Gracie-leigh
needed her nappy changing, Michael’s hands were busy pressing buttons.
I’d hoped that he’d help me out, that he’d be my partner in all this.
But rather than helping me with late-night feeds, he was getting late-night kills on his stupid games.
‘Just leave me alone, I need to relax,’ he’d argue whenever I asked for help.
‘Relax? You haven’t done anything,’ I’d scream.
Before my eyes, the man I loved was slipping away.
This new Michael was shifty, sneaky.
I wanted to find out the truth – and one day in February this year, I got my chance.
Michael had made the mistake of staying logged in to Facebook on the computer.
It took me less than a minute to uncover his dirty little secret.
Clicking into his messages, pages of them filled the screen.
All dating back to when I’d announced my pregnancy, and all from one girl. A 17-year-old named Amelia. Bile crept up my throat as I read Michael’s messages to her... I love you. She’d replied, I wish I could be with you tonight.
Pictures had been exchanged, too.
All that gaming he was doing. A cover for his chats with another woman!
Furious, I didn’t want to waste another second.
Marching to Michael’s office, I threw a print-out of the messages at him.
Realising what they were, his eyes grew as wide as saucers.
He couldn’t deny it, I’d caught him bang to rights.
He just said, ‘We haven’t met up or kissed.’
‘Well, you’ve lost everything. I want you out tonight,’ I replied.
I went home and pulled Michael’s things out of drawers and cupboards, stuffed them into bin bags.
Then I caught a sight of his Xbox... That thing had destroyed my happiness, my family. But in a strange way, I was grateful to that chunk of metal.
It’d alerted me to the fact Michael was a silly boy more interested in playing games than being a husband and father.
Now I’m getting a divorce.
I know Michael doesn’t feel sorry for what he’s done, but all I can say is good riddance.
If he thought he could play around with my emotions, then he thought wrong.
My life is better off without him in it.
Good riddance! My life is better off without him
A happy day out, away from the Xbox!
Michael doted on my girls, and we married
Michael loved gaming