Rejected by the Younger Man

Being involved with a man six years younger than me was a secret affair. He often grumbled about using protection, promising that if I ended up pregnant, we'd marry right away. The next day, with a mix of excitement and nerves, I held a pregnancy test, ready to share the results with him. But then, I stumbled across his phone and saw the chat with his friends.

"Hey Riley, Kamryn's almost back, your dream girl. What are you gonna do about the older woman?"

"Riley’s got her wrapped around his finger. What else? Make the breakup sex count."

Riley hadn't replied yet, but another friend chimed in exaggeratedly.

"No way, man, don't tell me you're catching feelings?"

Riley responded quickly.

"As if. She's just practice, just an old woman I’ve loosened up."

The chat was full of nasty, degrading comments aimed at me.

"Riley, you don't bother with protection even once? Must be amazing."

"Yeah, well, he picked an older woman because she’s safe and doesn’t need much maintenance, right?"

"She knows Riley’s not into protection, so she takes the pill. How many pills has she popped this year?"

Riley, who had been quiet until now, simply replied with a number.

"99."

The shock of that number set the chat ablaze.

"Wow, Riley, you’ve got her on a leash!"

"Teach us, Riley, how to score a no-fuss, free pass."

"Better enjoy it, man. The older woman’s got a body to die for, but Kamryn’s almost back, then it’s game over."

I held the phone, my hands trembling uncontrollably. The words were all too familiar, yet they felt like a foreign language. I took photos of every conversation, quietly returned the phone, and sank into the couch, dazed and disoriented.

Was this the Riley Nelson I knew? When he chased after me, I told him from the start I was six years older and not interested in dating a younger guy. Back then, my best friend had stolen my fiancé, and everyone was waiting for the "old spinster" to become a laughingstock. To win me over, Riley went above and beyond. I felt insecure, so he constantly checked in. I wasn’t into long distance, so he moved to my company and made me his assistant to keep us close.

With sincerity, he entered my life, and I couldn't help but fall for him. He didn't like using protection, so I regularly took the pill. He craved excitement, so we kept things adventurous. I worried about accidental pregnancy and asked what we'd do. He was unfazed, always claiming we’d get married if it happened. In my early 30s, I thought he’d offer me a home.

Little did I know, his warmth was reserved for someone he held too sacred to touch—I was just a warm-up act.

Looking at the positive pregnancy test in my hand, I realized what a fool I’d been.

"Why are there two lines? Are you pregnant?"

Riley appeared unexpectedly from the bathroom, snatching the test from my hand. My heart skipped a beat. I feigned calm, grabbed the test back, and tossed it in the trash.

"Just a flu test, feeling a bit under the weather."

He didn’t push it, instead playfully nibbled my earlobe, trying to tease me.

"I got some new open-crotch stockings. Want to try them on? And today, how about from behind?"

He wrapped himself around me, fascinated with my legs.

"I’m obsessed with your long legs, never get enough."

There was a time when I thought this was love and indulged his every whim. In hindsight, I felt utterly foolish.

I pushed him away, my tone cold.

"I'm on my period today. Not a good time."

Riley paused, giving me a puppy-dog look.

"Then why don’t you just wear the stockings for me, and I'll take care of myself? When your period's over, you can make it up to me, okay?"

How could I possibly make up for it? With a quick breakup fling, as they suggested?

To keep him pleased, I never skipped a beauty treatment or yoga session, terrified he’d start finding me old, saggy, and boring—only to end up as the butt of their jokes.

I’m a woman, not a laughingstock.

Tears finally spilled over, rolling down my cheeks. Seeing me cry, Riley panicked instantly.

"I’m just teasing, love. It’s not just your body I love; it’s your soul!"

He seemed to know how to work my mind.

I often wondered if he just wanted to sleep with me, but he always insisted it was love that made us explore everything we did.

Is this really love? If he loved me, why did he neglect using protection every time?

He gently wiped away my tears, eyes seemingly filled with genuine concern.

"It’s my fault. I’ll do whatever you want to make it up to you."

With that, he dramatically knelt on the remote control, pleading for forgiveness.

"Forgive me, sweetheart. Please don’t sweat the small stuff."

Watching his earnest act, a wave of sadness washed over me. All this just to keep an "older woman" entertained—what a chore it must be for him.

I stood and closed the bedroom door, pondering deeply before messaging Josie, my best friend in Dublin.

"I’ll see you in three days. Count me in for the partnership."

"Yes, I’m certain."

Hanging up, I curled up under the blankets, tears streaming down my face.

Dominic, if only I longed for you for the same reasons.

But I'm too greedy—I want both love and partnership.

If I can’t have both, I’d rather have neither.