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A real slap in the Facebook

What I was reading about my boyfriend couldn't be real.....


Published by: Sarah Lain and Amy Thompson
Published on: 31st March 2010

Things seemed too good to be true as I gazed at the blue lines appearing on the plastic wand in my hand. ‘You’re pregnant?’ gasped my boyfriend Owen, looking over my shoulder. I nodded, stunned.
Of course, me and Owen had talked about having kids during the three years we’d been together.
I already had twin boys Rhys and Oliver, 10, from a previous relationship but, even though Owen treated them like they were his own, I knew he longed for the real thing. He’d make a great dad.
He’d already taken on coaching the boys’ football team and, since he worked as an MC in nightclubs, he definitely had the cool factor. Kids loved him!
‘It’s early days,’ I warned. ‘Don’t get carried away.’
‘Sure,’ he nodded, kissing me. ‘Whatever you say, babe.’
When I heard him gushing down the phone five minutes later to his mum though I groaned, rolling my eyes. Wish I could be as thrilled as he was. But there were a few doubts niggling at me.
We were already struggling to make ends meet. Owen didn’t earn much, and I was hardly making millions at my admin job.
But as much as I’d badgered Owen to get a day job, he always said he couldn’t find anything.
‘It’ll be fine,’ he reassured me later. ‘I’ll think of something.’
Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but I worried more than ever. Me and Owen were constantly arguing about money.
‘Where are you going?’ I asked as he turned and stomped towards the front door after yet another row.
‘Out,’ he snapped. I hated that we were at each other’s throats.
Sometimes Owen would disappear for the whole night and wouldn’t answer
his phone.
Then, when I was five weeks pregnant, something awful happened. I miscarried.
Owen was in pieces. We both were.
Gradually, things started getting back to normal. It seemed to bring us closer together. Owen started staying around mine nearly every night.
Cooking dinner one night, I picked up my phone to call my mum. ‘I’m out of credit,’ I muttered to Owen. ‘Can I borrow your phone?’
He hesitated, then reluctantly handed it over. ‘Be quick,’ he said.
‘Okay,’ I replied. God, it was only for a little chat with Mum, it wasn’t like I was calling abroad or something! If it bothered him that much – and clearly from the way he was fidgeting it did – I’d give him some money to cover the flipping call! I kept it short but, before I could hang up the phone, a text message beeped.
‘Who’s Kelly?’ I asked, seeing the name pop up on screen, as I handed the phone back to him.
‘Are you going through my phone!’ he glared angrily, snatching it back. Whoa!
‘I-I wasn’t,’ I stammered, shocked. ‘Her name…’
‘She’s a girl at work,’ he grumbled sheepishly, realising I hadn’t deliberately rifled through his messages.
Suspicion was rising inside me though.
Why would he get so defensive about a workmate texting him?
‘Who is she?’ I asked again, slowly.
I could practically see the cogs whirring in his head, trying to make up another excuse.
Then Owen’s face crumpled. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t know how it happened… I went to a bar that night we’d been arguing.’
I couldn’t move. What was he on about?
‘I slept with someone,’ he blurted. ‘But I didn’t mean to. I was chatting to her at the bar, I left my pint while I went to the loo. I don’t remember anything after that, just waking up at my cousin’s house.’
I probably should’ve been marching him out the door right then, but shock rooted me to the spot. ‘There’s more…’ he said. ‘She says she’s pregnant with my baby.’
That was it – I flipped.
‘What?!’ I shrieked. ‘If you don’t even remember sleeping with her, how do you know she’s not lying?’
‘I agree,’ Owen soothed. ‘I’ve told her to leave me alone. I want to get on with our life together. Will you give me another chance?’
He looked so sincere, so crushed. We’d been through so much lately. I wasn’t sure I could take any more. I needed him here for me, to get me through losing our baby. I decided to give Owen another chance. But I had a few conditions for him…
‘I need some space, stay at your flat until we’ve got things sorted. And you need to find a proper job,’ I told him. ‘Then we’ll start over.’
He wasn’t keen on the idea of giving me space, but he knew I wasn’t going to budge. Moving to his cousin’s, he tried calling every day, but I refused to answer. I’ll call when I’m ready, I text him.
On my birthday, he left messages begging me to meet him at our favourite restaurant. I said no but could feel myself softening. I missed him.
And my punishment was having the desired effect on him – he’d learned his lesson and realised he didn’t want to lose me.
Oh heck, I’d no credit on my phone, though. I know, I’d message him through Facebook instead.
Only, when I logged in, he’d blocked me from seeing his profile.
Weird, especially for someone who wanted to be back in my life.
Curiosity got the better of me.
There was one quick way to find out what he was hiding – I created a fake profile using an American model’s photo, then added him as a friend. He accepted straight away.
But when his profile page popped up on screen, I did a double take. Tall, dark and handsome, Owen’s face stared back at me.
But under the photo was a comment that baffled me. I want to say ‘thank God’ for giving me and my girlfriend Kelly a beautiful baby girl, I read.
So it was his baby?!
My body shook as it sank in.
Although we were trying to patch things up, he was obviously still seeing Kelly. So much for wanting to move on with our life together. And, worst of all, the comment had been posted on September 5 – my birthday!
Picking up the phone, I confronted him.
He tried to deny it – until I told him that I’d seen his Facebook page.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I still love you, and want to be with you.’
I hung up, breaking down.
As if he hadn’t hurt me enough, sleeping with someone else around the time of my miscarriage – now he was flaunting that fact all over Facebook.
Some of our friends had even left congratulatory comments, thinking that it was me who’d
had the baby.
Fuming, I looked up Kelly on Facebook. She had to know the truth – he was a cheat, a liar.
But when I emailed her, she didn’t want to know.
Owen’s lived with me for a year, she typed back. You’re just jealous.
A year?!
I’d no idea how he’d managed to pull the wool over her eyes for so long. He’d stayed with me nearly every night of the week for the last three years.
Where did she think he’d been when he wasn’t sleeping next to her? Did she have the slightest inkling he was seeing someone else?
Or maybe she’d been as oblivious as me.
I knew one thing for certain, though – Kelly hadn’t been a one-night-stand, after all.
He’d been seeing her behind my back, playing happy families.
Well, she’s welcome to him.
It’s been so hard to accept that while we were losing our baby, Owen was planning a family with someone else.
I have to look on the positive side, though – I’ve had a lucky escape from the biggest fake on Facebook.

Owen Haisley, 36, says: ‘Michelle and I split up five months ago, and I have moved on with my life. I have no further comment to make.’

Kelly Mills was unavailable for comment.
Michelle Dickerson, 39, Eccles, Manchester