My husband ended our marriage on a family holiday

Kate*, 43, had been looking forward to spending quality time with her husband on their family holiday. But then over dinner he dropped a bombshell...

Walking down the aeroplane steps at Cancun Airport, the hot air took my breath away and I instantly felt my body relax.

My husband, Tim*, 43, and I had been like ships in the night lately – him working all hours on a big merger, me juggling my nursing shifts with looking after our three sons. Some quality family time was just what we both needed and I knew that as long as there was a pool and a football pitch our three boys would be happy.

By the time we arrived at our hotel, it was late so we all collapsed into bed exhausted and next morning we were up early and after a quick breakfast we went straight to the pool. As the boys played happily in the water, Tim was in another world with his AirPods in, listening to podcasts.

When I asked him to put sun lotion on my back he rolled his eyes and made a comment under his breath about getting his hands greasy. Assuming he was struggling to unwind, I let it go. That evening I put on a new summer dress and heels for dinner, determined to make an effort.

Reeling in shock

Still though, as I reached across the table to hold his hand he seemed distant and distracted.

"Are you OK?" I asked, as the boys headed off to play in the games room after we'd eaten.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and his eyes wouldn’t meet my gaze.

"I can’t do this any more," he sighed eventually. "I’m sorry."

At first I didn’t know what he was talking about.

"Do what?" I asked, confused.

"Us," he replied solemnly.

I sat there fighting back tears, as he explained that after 12 years of marriage he didn’t feel the same about me.

I tried to hold it together as people on neighbouring tables began looking.

"Why?" I whispered through gritted teeth.

"I just don’t find you attractive any more," he admitted eventually.

I felt like I’d been punched.

"What?" I gasped, my mind racing, knowing I'd let myself go a little after having the boys. In fact, both of us had stopped bothering with the gym in recent years.

Seeing him peering down into his drink, I was suddenly filled with rage.

"Love’s not just about what a person looks like," I seethed, trying not to shout. "I thought what we’ve got together goes deeper than that."

Putting on a front

But as his silence made me realise that it didn’t for Tim, my upset turned to pure anger. I couldn't believe I'd wasted nearly two decades of my life with someone so shallow. I knew I deserved better.

And with nearly two weeks still left of our holiday, I wanted to make the most of the time with the boys.

Our family room already had three double beds in it, so that night I shared one with one of the boys so that I didn’t have to be close to Tim. Hugging our youngest tightly, silent tears rolled down my cheeks in the darkness and by morning, I felt completely drained.

Hiding my puffy eyes behind my sunglasses, I spent the days that followed in the pool with the boys, reading my book on the beach and trying out the hotel’s yoga classes.

Telling our sons

We ate as a family in the evening for the sake of the children, but by the time we flew home I could hardly bear to look at Tim. He moved out within days and we broke the news as softly as possible to the boys, who were as heartbroken as they were confused.

Our divorce was finalised recently and the boys still see their dad regularly. Although I’ll never forgive him for ruining our family holiday, as time has passed, I now feel that he did me a favour. In hindsight, I can see that our marriage had been stale for years and somehow along the way we'd stopped communicating.

I’ve since been introduced to a friend of a friend who is also divorced, and although it’s early days I already feel more loved and appreciated than I had done for a very long time.

*Names have been changed to protect identities.

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