A Storm Is Brewing

The Party

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to Leo, Happy Birthday to you."

The room was filled with everyone we loved, except Rhys. He was off on some exotic holiday with my ex-girlfriend, pretending that he had been the one to be wronged in this situation. Oh, and the rest of the family, most of whom had been nowhere to be seen since the allegations broke, found the embarrassment of going from Ireland's success story family to a cheating love-rat a little too much for them to bear. They did offer, but took my I wouldn't want you to be in the centre of the paps scandal much more literal than I expected. Leah couldn't have been happier. I watched on as she helped him blow out the candles on his cake and battled with Teddy to stop him from putting his hand into the flames.

Leah and I had somehow managed to establish a somewhat amicable relationship leading up to the party. After the first night she came to see the kids, we had a few days of peacefulness before another chaotic situation arose because she started liking fan videos designed to attack me. I was obviously angry at the situation, but when I found out that Leah was continuing to respond to Liv's messages as if everything was normal, I couldn't help but feel a slight change of heart towards her.

At some point in the last few months, I made the effort to completely read through the media stories from start to finish. I couldn't deny it, if these stories were about Leah, I would believe them as well. Whoever was responsible for this had put in such meticulous effort that, even as a lawyer, I would be at a loss as to where to start in exposing the truth.

Instead of questioning everyone around me, I accepted that the truth would reveal itself in due time. Eventually, Leah would come to realise that I hadn't cheated, and when that moment arrived, I would finally be able to tell her that I knew how believable the evidence looked. Maybe it was naive to think that this would all blow over, but if I stopped telling myself that, I would've broken.

Now I had to wait just a few minutes for the feeling inside to pass, desperately trying to focus in a room full of people who hated me. Anxiety. That's what the doctor had told me I was suffering from, and they were probably right. Life with two children was chaotic; there was always something else that needed to be done and somewhere else that I should be. Pair that with being the most hated person on the internet, and this is the result: a constant battle between resilient and broken.

One thing we could agree on was that the news articles had completely blindsided both of us. For Leah, she felt no sympathy towards me for what had come with them, reminding me at every opportunity that I had brought this on myself. My situation was a little different, and I could feel sorry for both of us. No matter what she did, what she shared, or who she was with, I would forever feel pity for Leah because, to her, she had been publicly humiliated by the person she had trusted. It didn't matter how many times I told her I didn't do it; she believed that I had, and I couldn't begin to express how proud I was of her that she was still standing on the other side of this.

The kids struggled to adapt. Well, Teddy did. Leo didn't know what was going on, but the first few times Leah had kept him overnight, he returned the next day exhausted, even if she tried to pretend he slept right away in the new, strange surroundings. I let her bask in her untrue glory. I loved her, and I wasn't about to rub in her face that they were happier when they were in their family home. We made separation work, obviously, but the media tested us both. With every new article, another blow-up came between us, often resulting in angry phone calls and revisits to our divorce settlement agreements.

That's what made it so frustrating when I took these dizzy spells on days like today. It was one day when we could just be happy. Of course, if Leah knew about them, she might not be so irritated by my reluctance to get in the pictures her mum was taking or my initial refusal to carry the cake so she didn't have to put Leo in his chair. But she wasn't mine anymore; she wasn't someone I could tell about my struggles with my own head.