I’m 51 and I Fell in Love with My Best Friend’s 33-Year-Old Son — My Story

12


Worried Woman. | Source: Getty Images

I had never imagined I would find love at 51. Little did I know the man I was dating and sharing a bed with was my best friend’s 33-year-old son. Was it all the beginning of a terrible mistake?

Was it a Thursday? A Friday? I don’t know. I don’t remember. Not that the different days in a week make any difference in the life of a lonely 51-year-old like me.

However, what I do remember is that I was in a cafe that day. I was working on my laptop, possibly writing a report, when a couple walked in and sat at the table across from mine. A young pair of love birds they were, giggling and holding hands.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

They were sitting so close to each other… even the wind would need to halt for them to give way so it could pass. I looked away. I couldn’t stand how much they were into one another, their closeness, and their love.

Hello, I’m Lesley, and this is my story. A story about how a lonely 51-year-old woman ended up falling in love against her will, how she couldn’t resist the man who made her smile after all these years, and how she slept with her best friend’s son…

I was alone. I had been so for quite some years. I didn’t have any love in my life after I got divorced. My ex-husband, Josh, married a younger woman because she could give him kids, which I could not.

I’m not sure why, but when I looked at that couple in the cafe that day, I felt a tinge of jealousy, regret, and a lot of sadness. I got up and walked out.

Is that how Josh and his new wife hold hands? Is that how they met behind my back? In a café? Or worse, were they sleeping together behind my back while I wasn’t home?

No, was what my mind told me. You can’t trust a stranger, Lesley!

As I sat in my car, I cried. I cried the same way I had when Josh told me he wanted a divorce because I couldn’t give him children. I was feeling depressed and alone… I took out my phone and called my best friend, Jennifer.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Good Lord, Les! Please tell me it’s not about Josh!” she cried. “Look, hun, you’ve got to get over that guy! He cheated on you, Les. And you’re still crying for him?”

“I’m not crying FOR him, Jen,” I said sternly, still sobbing. “I feel terrible for myself. I just feel so incomplete as a woman…”

“Then find someone for yourself, hun. Go out, meet men, and you’ll realize that the world is full of trashy lovers like your ex. I’m sorry, Les, but I don’t think a man can fix your life!”

“So what am I supposed to do? Die alone? Look what I’ve become, Jen… All I do is work, drink wine when I’m alone and sad, and lie in bed. I didn’t imagine my life would turn so crappy!”

“Oh well, then what did you expect, hun? Look, Les, how about you come over, and we talk it out? I could make you something to eat.”

“NO!” I screamed into the phone. “I don’t need anyone! Nobody! Did you hear me? Let me just die alone!”

“I’m 51, and women my age raise grandkids, not fall in love, Jen!”

Is that what she expects from me? Does she realize how I feel when I see people around me living and enjoying life? I thought.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I felt stuck and suffocated when I saw people around me happy and smiling. Ever since the divorce, all I had done was cry. I wanted to feel loved, but I was scared.

Was I strong enough to handle another heartbreak?

A few days later, I left work late, as always, and ended up missing my bus. I couldn’t call an Uber since my phone was dead, so I decided to wait for the next bus.

“Can I help you with something?” I heard a deep voice and looked up from my book to see a man in his car, the car window rolled down.

He smiled. “I don’t see anyone else here! Can I drop you somewhere?”

No, was what my mind told me. You can’t trust a stranger, Lesley!

“No, I’m fine,” I said. “I’m waiting for the bus. Thanks.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“It’s getting darker and colder… The next bus won’t be earlier than 20 minutes. Are you sure you want to wait?”

I don’t know why I didn’t say no to him. “Can I see your ID?” I asked. “I can’t trust a stranger just like that.”

“There you go,” he said, extending it. “Tyson here.”

“I’m taking a picture of it and sending it to my friends… Is that ok?” I asked. I pretended like I clicked the picture and sent it to my friends. I didn’t want to wait in the cold and night alone.

My heart was racing as if it would jump out of my chest.

“So, where are you headed?” he asked as I settled in his car.

I told him the address, and he nodded. “Oh, that’s close enough! Great! Your beautiful name, please?”

“Lesley,” I said with a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Tyson, and thanks for the ride.”

“No worries! By the way,” he said. “You have a lovely name… and if I may, you’re gorgeous.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I smiled. I hadn’t smiled like that in a long time for anyone.

“Uh, well, thanks,” I managed to say. “You… You are quite handsome too!”

“Oh, you don’t have to be that nice!” he chuckled. “I know you’ve seen better. I mean, look at you!”

My heart was racing as if it would jump out of my chest. What was happening?

“That’s very sweet of you, Tyson,” I said. “Really.”

“I guess we’re here,” he said as he pulled over. “Your home.”

“Oh!” I blushed. “Yes, yes…I almost forgot to ask you to stop the car. Thanks—”

“Are you free tomorrow?” he asked as I was about to get out of the car.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

He smiled his charming smile and said, “If you don’t mind, I’d love to take you out on a coffee date. I hope that’s okay?”

I got down without saying anything. Then I turned back and said, “Would 7 p.m. be a good time?”

A coffee date was how it all began, and before I knew it, I was in love. Tyson, 33, was 18 years younger than me, but love isn’t bound by age, is it?

I felt so special when he held me. A week after we met, we were sharing my bed, and he would come running to me whenever I needed him. After meeting him, I felt alive. I was afraid of falling in love, but everything felt so special… I couldn’t resist him. I couldn’t resist the beautiful feeling of love.

Then one day, I decided to tell Jenifer about Tyson and my relationship, hoping to prove to her that the world isn’t full of “trashy lovers,” as she had claimed. But the moment I showed up at her house, I was in for a shock…

I walked into her living room and saw a man. He was beautiful. He had golden hair and a charming smile, and his name was Tyson.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“This is my son, Tyson, Les,” Jennifer said. “Tyson, meet Lesley, my best friend. Tyson was in Canada until recently and returned home a month back.”

We pretended we didn’t know each other, and Tyson later asked me to tell Jen the truth about our relationship.

I’m scared. Confused. Anxious.

What should I do? Should I tell Jen I’m dating her son? Is it the right thing to do, or will it endanger our friendship? What if I tell Jen about it, and she convinces Tyson to end our relationship? Would I lose my friend and my new love in that case?

Tell us what you think and share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a 76-year-old woman who fell in love but was ashamed to tell her son about it.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.



Source link

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept Read More