My treasured items were slipping from my grasp, including the roof over my head. And I knew exactly who was behind it all. By Emma Greer, 35
As my boyfriend Stuart and I arrived at the swanky restaurant, he reached out and opened the door. ‘Ladies first,’ he said. ‘You’re sweet,’ I replied, stepping inside.
Stuart and I had been together for six months and he was a true gentleman. He treated me like a queen, holding open doors and bringing me breakfast in bed.
He was open from the start that he didn’t want children and I accepted that.
A year later, we bought a house together. The mortgage was in my name, but Stuart asked me to sign an agreement he’d drawn up.
The document confirmed I’d own some equity in the house if we ever split up, but ensured he’d be the main beneficiary.
‘This just gives me extra security,’ he explained. ‘Women have screwed me over in the past, so I need to be cautious.’ I thought it was odd, but trusted him. We moved into our new home and at first everything was great. But as the years went by, Stuart became controlling.
If I spent too long at the supermarket, or out seeing friends, he’d call, demanding to know where I was.
Soon, he started going through my phone and his constant monitoring put me on edge.
Then he started isolating me from friends. ‘You can’t trust them,’ he’d say. I thought he was being protective, but eventually, I barely socialised.
Then, one day while we were out for dinner, we argued.
Stuart stormed off home and when I arrived shortly after, he’d locked me out of the house. I knocked on the door, but he refused to let me in, so I slept in my car.
Next morning, Stuart finally let me back in, but he didn’t apologise. Somehow, he made me feel like I was in the wrong.
When I told my sister Sarah what had been happening, she said: ‘You need to leave him, it’ll only get worse.’ But I hoped he’d change. When he bought me a gorgeous cockapoo puppy, called Baile, for my birthday, I thought that might be a sign that my caring man had returned.
But no sooner had he given me Baile than he snapped: ‘I paid for him, he’s mine.’
Thoughts of leaving Stuart now began to fill my head.
Then one evening, while he was in the shower, I discovered messages on his phone from another woman. My heart sank as I read they’d been meeting in secret.
When he got out of the shower, I confronted him.
‘Nothing’s going on, it’s all in your head,’ he said.
‘I don’t believe you,’ I told him. ‘It’s over.’
I packed a bag ready to go to Sarah’s.
But as I reached for Baile’s things, Stuart said: ‘You’re not taking him.’
Leaving Baile behind broke my heart. But Stuart accepted it was
