My toyboy had hidden a secret wife!
If only I’d listened to my friends and steered clear of that charming young man
Stretching on my sunlounger, I relished the blissful Sri Lankan sun. It was November 2011 and I had escaped there for three weeks. I was meant to be meeting a friend, but when she’d become ill, I ended up going alone.
Not that I minded.
I’d been travelling solo for years. Had never found the love of my life with whom to explore the globe. The hotel was luxurious. Every day, the room boy would leave me chocolates on the bed or create a love heart out of the towels.
‘Hello Madam, enjoying your holiday?’ he asked daily.
He told me his name was Priyanjana De Zoysa. ‘I’m 26,’ he added. Two days before the end of my holiday, Priyanjana’s grinning face appeared at my door.
‘Address? Number?’ he stammered, trying his best to put the words together.
His English was almost non-existent.
But he was a sweetie. I thought he wanted a friendship or to improve his English.
No harm in giving him my details.
Waving Priyanjana goodbye two days later, I thought that was that.
But a few weeks later, my phone started ringing with a number I didn’t recognise.
‘Hello, remember me?’ a familiar voice asked. Priyanjana!
We chatted as much as we could.
After that, he called a few times a week and even sent a letter.
Skyped whenever he could get to an Internet cafe.
I warmed to this young man
who seemed so keen to know about me.
I looked forward to our chats. ‘Be careful,’ friends warned. ‘I’m a grown woman,’ I reminded them.
I knew Priyanjana was young, knew he lived thousands of miles away, but something had me mesmerised.
It’d been a long time since a man had paid me any attention.
‘I love you,’ he told me soon afterwards.
I didn’t say it back, but maybe I did love him, too..?
‘Marry me soon,’ he said on a different day.
And I didn’t say no...
In June 2012, I booked flights to Sri Lanka.
Priyanjana seemed so excited to see me.
We shared a kiss on my first day there.
I felt a buzz I hadn’t experienced in decades.
But he kept badgering me about marriage.
‘Why the rush?’ I asked. Seeing his eyes fill with tears, I started to feel guilty I wasn’t lapping up his affection.
So, a few days later, I agreed to go along to the register office
for what Priyanjana told me was our engagement.
Only, as soon as I arrived, seeing his friends and everything organised,
I realised I’d been mistaken. This is our wedding! Exchanging our vows with me dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, it felt so exciting and spontaneous. Like I was in my 20s again. In fact, Priyanjana confessed he was 21, but it didn’t bother me.
‘You pay,’ he said, his smile lighting up the room.
How could
I say no?
Handing over the cash for the wedding and the celebrations afterwards, I was happy if Priyanjana was.
But after that, the costs kept coming.
I bought him a minibus so he could run a taxi service, helped to redecorate his family’s home.
I went back to Edinburgh, where friends were shocked by my news.
‘Are you sure he’s right for you? What about your life here?’ they questioned.
‘If this is my only chance to be in love and happy, then what have I got to lose?’ I insisted.
Back and forth during the next few years,
I really wanted to settle with Priyanjana.
So, in February 2016,
I sold my flat, quit my job and moved to Sri Lanka. I poured money into having our house built. The costs totted up to around £57,000. Only, I felt so lonely. Priyanjana was always working, spending days at a time away from our home, and I didn’t speak the language.
‘I miss you,’ I told him on the phone.
‘Yes, be back soon, working,’ he said.
In September 2016, I found a Valentine’s card in a wardrobe.
To my husband Priyanjana... it read.
What was this? It wasn’t my handwriting.
When Priyanjana finally came home that day, I shoved the card in his face.
‘A joke from a friend,’ he said, trying to calm me down.
I didn’t know what to believe. But I was determined to make it work with Priyanjana.
Then, just before Christmas 2016, I made another discovery.
And this time there was no mistaking it...
A marriage certificate, with Priyanjana’s name on it.
He’d wed a Sri Lankan woman months after he’d tied the knot with me!
The ultimate betrayal. He couldn’t deny it this time. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he cried.
I didn’t believe him for one minute. Had he ever loved me?
I’ve been such a mug,
I thought, wishing I’d listened to all of my friends.
Priyanjana and I argued for the next few weeks.
But looking at my bank balance, I didn’t have enough money to fly home.
In the four years we’d been together, I’d spent everything I had on my new life.
We were civil but split, still living in the house together.
Heaven knows what was going on with his other wife. I didn’t want to know. But then, in May 2017, I hadn’t seen him in weeks.
‘I’ll be home soon,’ he told me on the phone.
Days went past and there was still no word.
Then, one evening, I heard the sound of a man crying outside our house.
Going out, I found Priyanjana’s father, his head in his hands, and his aunty.
‘It’s Priyanjana. He’s dead,’ she told me.
Turned out he’d been shot dead by gang members.
I felt numb. His betrayal meant I didn’t love him. But I was devastated for his family.
After the funeral, I knew I had to leave Sri Lanka.
His parents wanted me to stay, to still pay for everything. But I had my own life to live. It took months – but after selling my furniture, I was able to fly back to Edinburgh.
Arriving home last November, I’d never felt such relief. But I felt so stupid, too.
How could I have been such a fool?
Now, I’m trying to get my life back on track.
The last seven years have been a whirlwind. Priyanjana drained every penny from me.
I want to warn other women not to fall for the charm of young men on holiday.
Don’t get sucked in like I did.
I found a Valentine’s card...the handwriting wasn’t mine