From the start, he was kind and attentive, always willing to listen to me vent about my day, never once distracted by his phone or looking bored. He was everything I thought I needed.
What sealed my affection for him was when he showed up on my doorstep with homemade chicken soup and a collection of my favorite rom-coms. “Everyone needs a little TLC when they’re feeling down,” he said with that charming smile of his.
This is it, I thought. This is the man I’ve been waiting for.
One of the things that endeared Martin to me was his nervous stammer. When he was anxious or stressed, his words would stumble over each other, and I found it adorable. It made him feel more real, more human.
Like the time, a month into our relationship, when he took me to a fancy Italian restaurant for our “monthiversary.” He was passionately explaining the new accounting software at his firm, waving his fork around, when it slipped from his hand, sending tomato sauce all over his shirt. His face turned beet red.
“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” he stammered, looking mortified. “I d-didn’t m-mean to m-mess up.”
I reached across the table, took his hand, and smiled. “It’s okay. Red suits you.”
He laughed, and the tension melted away. That moment solidified my belief that he was someone I could truly be with.
As our relationship grew, Martin opened up about his past, especially about his ex-wife, Janet. He painted a picture of her as someone constantly chasing more—more money, more status, more things. “Nothing was ever enough for her,” he’d say, shaking his head. Their marriage crumbled under the weight of her demands, according to him.
“I couldn’t keep up with her. It felt like I was drowning, and she just kept pushing me under,” he confessed one night. I vowed I’d never be that way—I would love him for who he was, not for what he could provide.
So, when he proposed a year into our relationship, I didn’t hesitate. Our wedding was intimate and beautiful, and it was the happiest day of my life.
But last Tuesday, everything changed.
I had just returned from visiting my mother and decided to surprise Martin with his favorite lasagna. As I pulled into our driveway, I slammed on the brakes when I saw two figures digging in our garden—Martin and Janet.
For a moment, I thought my eyes were deceiving me. What were they doing together? And why were they destroying my garden?
I stormed out of the car and marched over to them. “What’s going on?” I demanded, anger rising in my voice.
Martin froze, dropping the shovel. “M-M-Margaret! Y-you’re h-home early!” His familiar stammer only confirmed my suspicions—he was hiding something.
All the worst thoughts flooded my mind. Was he cheating? Why was Janet here? Why were they digging up our yard?
“We were just…” Martin began, but Janet interrupted.
“She deserves to know, Martin,” she said, wiping her hands. “We buried a time capsule here, ten years ago.”
“A time capsule?” I echoed in disbelief.
“Yes, from when we lived here together,” Janet explained, gesturing to the metal box at their feet. “We always planned to dig it up someday.”
Martin looked sheepish. “Y-yeah, we thought it’d be fun to reminisce.”
I stood there, stunned. “So, you decided to destroy my garden for your little trip down memory lane?”
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t,” I snapped before walking into the house, slamming the door behind me. Inside, I paced back and forth, trying to wrap my head around what just happened. How could Martin keep this from me? And why on earth would he prioritize his past with Janet over our life together?
I heard the front door open and the sound of hushed voices. Then Martin called out, “Margaret? Can we talk?”
I stepped into the hallway, where they stood with the muddy time capsule between them.
“What’s there to talk about?” I asked coldly.
“Please, let us explain,” Martin pleaded. “It’s not what you think.”
Janet chimed in. “We just wanted to look back. There’s nothing more to it—”
“Fine,” I interrupted. “Go ahead and dig up the past. I’ll be outside.”
I stormed out of the house, feeling a mixture of anger and betrayal. As I looked at the mess they’d made of my garden, an idea formed in my mind.
I gathered wood for a bonfire. By the time the fire was roaring, the sun had set. I could hear Martin and Janet laughing inside, likely over something from the time capsule. I called out, “Why don’t you bring that stuff out here? We could have a bonfire.”
They joined me, bringing the capsule with them. I picked up a handful of its contents—old photos, letters, trinkets. Without hesitation, I tossed them into the flames.
“What are you doing?” Janet gasped.
“Burnt bridges should stay burnt,” I said firmly. “It’s time to focus on the future, not the past.”
As I watched the fire consume their memories, I realized something—Martin wasn’t the perfect man I thought I’d married. He was flawed, just like anyone else.
Janet backed away, her face pale. “I think I should go.”
Neither Martin nor I stopped her as she left. Once we were alone, Martin turned to me with tears in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Margaret,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t know how to tell you about the capsule. I was afraid you’d think I still had feelings for Janet. I just wanted to get it done before you came back. I messed up. Can you forgive me?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, staring at the fire. “You’ve broken my trust, Martin. That’s not something you fix overnight.”
“We have a lot to talk about,” I continued. “But not tonight. Tonight, I need some space.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Martin said, defeated, before retreating into the house.
I stayed by the fire as it slowly died down. The garden would need to be replanted. New seeds, new life. Maybe our relationship could be the same.
Only time would tell which path we’d choose. But one thing was certain: Martin would never be the same in my eyes.
What would you have done if you were in my place?
CATHERINE ZETA-JONES AND MICHAEL DOUGLAS CELEBRATE 23RD ANNIVERSARY WITH HEART-MELTING WISHES
When Michael Douglas, then 54, caught sight of Catherine Zeta-Jones portraying Elena Montero in 1998’s “The Mask of Zorro,” he was instantly captivated.
In that same year, both Oscar-winning actors found themselves at the Deauville Film Festival, with Zeta-Jones promoting the film alongside Antonio Banderas, and Douglas attending for his movie, “A Perfect Murder.”
Following his instincts, Douglas had his publicist arrange a meeting.
However, things didn’t quite go as planned.
“I met her in the bar and was a complete gentleman,” shared the star of “Fatal Attraction” with People magazine. He recounted inviting her back to his room for a nightcap.
Later that evening, when the now 54-year-old star of “Ocean’s Twelve” joined him, he fumbled by saying, “You know, I’m going to be the father of your children.”
Douglas remembers her response: “You know I’ve heard a lot about you, and I’ve seen a lot about you, and I think it’s time that I say goodnight.”
Meanwhile, Zeta-Jones, whose breakout role was in “The Mask of Zorro,” believed the encounter with her future husband was purely work-related.
“I was going to a film festival. I thought Michael Douglas wanted to meet me for work because I knew he was a producer as well as an actor. I genuinely thought that because I was in work mode and I was going to a film festival, and that’s where film deals are made,” explained Zeta-Jones.
“So I never thought, ‘Oh my God, he wants to date me.’ And within hours of meeting me, he told me he wanted to father my children. So I presumed this was not for a job.”
But Douglas was undeterred. Knowing he would soon be filming “Entrapment” in Scotland, he arranged for roses to be delivered to her room upon her arrival.
In a 2019 interview with Access, Zeta-Jones joked, “You know what the worst thing is? He was right.”
Despite their initial hiccups, the couple, who share the same birthday with a 25-year age gap, have faced challenges. In 2013, they briefly separated, reportedly due to stress. However, they reconciled after a year apart.
In 2010, Douglas battled throat cancer, while Zeta-Jones grappled with bipolar disorder. But through it all, their love endured.
Recently, on their 23rd wedding anniversary, the couple, now grandparents, expressed their enduring love for each other. Sharing photos from their wedding and beyond, Zeta-Jones wrote, “Today we celebrate 23 years of marriage. Darling Michael, your Nobel Peace Prize awaits, I love you… from your darling wife, a gold star Medal of Honor recipient.”
Douglas also took to Instagram to share his sentiments, writing, “Happy 23 and Me, my darling @catherinezetajones. Can’t wait for 24! Happy Anniversary.”
“One netizen expresses, ‘I’ve always admired you both, which has fueled my love for all things classic… Happy Wedding Anniversary, my all-time favorite couple.’
Another shares, ‘The most charming and perfect couple!!! Congratulations!!’ While a third adds, ‘Remarkable! You’ve got to be one of the best couples in Hollywood for sure. I admire both of your work! Thank you for so many years of fantastic entertainment.’”
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