‘It became clear that he Was never going to change’

Tess Stimson, 46, is a writer who lives with her husband, Erik, 47, and three children.

The dawn was peeking through the curtains when my partner and I finally ended a phone call that had lasted all night. He had called six hours earlier from overseas, where he was working. But we hadn’t been whispering sweet nothings to each other all night, like most couples in love. Instead, he had repeatedly accused me of cheating on him, shouted at me, and even sobbed, saying I didn’t love him. The accusations were completely untrue, but instead of hanging up or getting angry, I’d patiently talked him off the ledge.

I knew he’d been hurt in a messy divorce, so I forgave him, aware it’d take him a long time to trust anyone again. The months that followed were punctuated by similar outbursts, but I put up with it, convinced his insecurity would fade, but It only got worse.

He’d create a scene in public, not caring who was watching. I lost count of the number of times he embarrassed me in restaurants. He’d be full of apologies later – once he even came home the next day with a pair of gold earrings.

Even after being together a few years, his outbursts didn’t improve. He’d start arguments when we were out, over stupid things such as the dress I’d chosen to wear that night. One year, on my birthday, we were on holiday in Cyprus and went out for dinner. He had a few drinks and accused me of flirting with the maître d’. It was nonsense, but he stormed out like a petulant child and I followed, cringing, trying to avoid anyone’s gaze. The next day, he was mortified and apologised profusely. And once again, I forgave him.

But it wasn’t just me who he humiliated. He offended waiters and employees too. He was forever sending meals back and he’d refuse to pay cab fares if there was traffic. Once, he even kicked a driver because he was late! But time and again, I condoned his behaviour. Why? Because I loved him, and I thought forgiving him made me the bigger person.

What I didn’t know then was that by forgiving his antics and moving on, we were doing anything but. My constant forgiveness was making me feel weak and, subconsciously, he repeat offended, knowing that I’d forgive him. It wasn’t healthy.

My friends didn’t like him and even my mother told me how it takes a strong person to forgive, but a stronger one to walk away.

At his best, he was a wonderful man to be around and a lot of fun. I desperately wanted to make things work. But as time went on, it became clear he was never going to change. We eventually split and it was the best decision. Sometimes you have to accept you can’t change someone, and let them go.

The Adultery Club by Tess Stimson, £7.99, amazon.co.uk, published by Pan Macmillan.

‘It takes a stronger person to Walk away’