Yesterday, the Mail’s US health editor Eve Simmons bravely acknowledged the telltale signs that, in hindsight, suggested her six-month marriage was about to end.
Pictures of earrings on her husband’s phone that weren’t hers and weren’t intended for her. When he returned home, he found him in the middle of a bottle of red wine. There was no apparent “bold, arrogant” attitude towards her.
It all combined to cause the relationship to falter – and her article really hit a nerve, sparking hundreds of comments online.
That’s why we asked leading authors to look back on their romantic past and remember the moment they knew a relationship was doomed…
The Christmas competition
Lisa Hilton, 48
Lisa Hilton, 48, knew her first marriage had failed when her husband gave her a pair of Manolo Blahnik heels in the wrong size
It was Christmas morning when I knew my first marriage had failed. Unfortunately, it was also our first Christmas as husband and wife.
We invited his family to spend the day with us. I had been preparing for weeks – food, decorations, the perfect gifts. I don’t think Christmas should be about spending absurd amounts of money, but choosing a thoughtful and personal gift is important to me.
As we sat around the tree with champagne and homemade cinnamon rolls, I was thrilled by the reaction as everyone unwrapped their packages. Until I came to my own.
My new husband had given me a purple suede skirt and a pair of Manolo Blahnik heels. There was something strange about the admittedly very elegant pumps. I wear size 39 and this one was 36.
I thought it was a gross mistake until I saw his face. He looked horrified. I said nothing, but avoided the family walk before lunch, claiming I had to finish the fried potatoes.
Once everyone was gone, I searched my husband’s study and found an identical pair of shoes, this time in my size. He had accidentally given a gift that was clearly intended for another woman.
There was no need to make a scene. I simply replaced the shoes and when he came back with my in-laws I was wearing my new heels in the right size.
The dachshund didn’t walk
Vanessa Tait, 52
Vanessa Tait, 52, knew something was wrong with her boyfriend Nick when he stopped taking the dog at 11pm
When I met my friend Nick, I had a dachshund named Moira. She wasn’t exactly a good fit for Nick – he liked big dogs.
But he liked the little dachshund, picked him up and pressed kisses to his smooth, round head. And she liked him and squirmed with joy whenever he came to.
We walked arm in arm with Moira through London’s Hyde Park, watching as she chased squirrels and barked at everyone we met.
We were still young, but Moira had made us a family, I thought, and I would like to imagine the day when we would move in together and have another puppy. But there was one aspect of Moira that Nick didn’t like: her tendency to pee in the apartment.
When he stayed at home, he always went out with her at 11 p.m. to do her business. It was a favor and I was grateful.
Until one night he didn’t. Eleven o’clock came and went. I got up and went out myself – I didn’t say anything. The next night was the same. I don’t think he ever took her back.
It was a sign. He had loved Moira because he loved me. But now he didn’t do it anymore.
The poetry that wasn’t about me
Marion McGilvary, 65
Marion McGilvary, 65, discovered her husband was reading poetry and had highlighted a poem
My ex went away for a month and came back and said he wanted to make things happen.
I was very relieved. Gone were the long walks alone to make secret phone calls to the woman he was seeing.
It was over with her, he assured me.
He was relaxed, loving and, above all, happy – eager to do things together. I really felt like we were on the mend and I was giddy with relief.
And then I noticed that some of the poetry books were missing.
“You read poetry?” I asked him, amused – this from a guy whose usual reading material revolved around Stalin and the origins of World War II. He was strangely defensive. Later I saw a slim volume of Constantine P. Cavafy’s poetry on his desk.
The poem “Song of the Heart” was written on a piece of paper: “With you, I think, everything pleasant smiles on me.” Joy is reflected in the mirror of your eyes.’
For a sweet nanosecond I thought it was about me. Then I knew.
Nobody suddenly reads poems to their wife of 25 years. The relationship I thought was over had just been better hidden.
The jewelry that repulsed me
Kate Spicer, 54
Kate Spicer, 54, was put off by her boyfriend Jack when he started wearing gold necklaces, rings and thick chains
Jack had attended a fancy school, the best university, he had a small personal income and a mind that fit the stereotypical “steel trap.”
He was one of the loves of my life, no question, but he was a dark, cynical and sometimes cruel character.
He liked to lie in his huge bed in a large but incredibly shabby apartment with enviably high windows, where he smoked lots of cigarettes and drank red wine around the clock. When I was 20, I found it incredibly exotic – but its charm soon wore off.
As I began work, Jack sank deeper into his decadent personality. He went out drinking and came home at 3am to cook himself a roast.
A few times I met him at a late-night bar near where we lived, where he was drinking with a vampire with long, dark hair; Overknee boots; and a figure-hugging dress.
Then he started wearing jewelry. He really wasn’t a jeweler, but he got all these gold pieces – necklaces, rings, thick chains.
The stench of the cheap gold plate and his hungover sweat was the most miserable thing I had ever smelled. I held out for a few weeks after the jewelry arrived, but in the end it was this, not the woman in over-the-knee boots, that made me pack my bags and leave.
The sudden gap year he took
Linda Kelsey, 71
Linda Kelsey, 71, had been with her partner for 22 years, married for seven, and the couple supported each other through the lowest of lows. But his desire to take a year abroad ended their relationship
We had been together for 22 years and only been married for seven.
There had been tough times both before our wedding – when he tirelessly and selflessly supported me through two years of depressive illness – and after, when his professional life imploded and his self-confidence hit rock bottom.
But our loyalty to each other, backed by love, would surely see us through, I thought.
When my now ex-husband said, “After that [our son] “Thomas is coming back from his year abroad and going to university, I’m doing a year abroad myself,” I said to myself for a while: “He deserves this.”
He was a man who loved adventure and the wilderness, while I preferred safer comforts, and a trip to South America would give him the opportunity to satisfy that desire.
Three or even six months of absence would help him find his feet, rethink his future professional life and goals, and enjoy a taste of freedom.
Maybe it would even reinvigorate and revitalize our relationship.
Looking back, I realize that the warning sign was less in the action than in the fact that it wasn’t a topic of discussion. His plans were non-negotiable, his statement was a clear intention.
But when he finally left, I no longer had any illusions – and when he came back, it was over between us.
The brand new bedroom trick
Liz Jones, 65
Liz Jones, 65, became suspicious when her husband was more generous in the bedroom. He said he learned his new moves at yoga, Liz knew immediately it was something different
We had been married for two years before my husband declared that he wanted to “find himself” in India. What he found, as I later learned from snooping on his camera, was a certain American woman. He begged for my forgiveness.
I had to be in New York for my job as a fashion editor and I invited him as a peace offering and even paid for his flights. He had never been there before, but one evening after I had worked all day he announced that he knew of a great vegan restaurant. Wow! Initiative! That is new!
The next morning in bed, in our room with a view of the Empire State Building, he performed a number that I had always found boring. But on this day? “Damn!” I said. “Where the hell did you learn that?” He grinned before saying, “Yoga.”
Then it clicked. He had met with the American from India who was now here in NYC. He wasn’t generous in bed. He subtly showed off his new conquest, like a cat dropping a mouse in my lap. “I landed a woman who is demanding in bed and knows the Big Apple like the back of her hand.”
I sent the American an insulting email to which she replied, “Thanks for reaching out.” Whore.
The ignorant “Moorish” confusion
Lucy Cavendish, 55
Lucy Cavendish, 55, couldn’t bear that her long-term boyfriend didn’t know that Moorish architecture meant the buildings were built by the Moors
While we were vacationing in southern Spain, I realized that my relationship with a long-term boyfriend was doomed. We sat on the terrace of a romantic villa we were staying in, drinking a bottle of champagne and looking out at the stunning white villages.
I said, “Oh, look at the beautiful Moorish architecture.”
And he said, “Oh, does that mean you want to see more of this?”
At first I thought he was trying to be funny. But then when I saw how quizzical he looked, I realized he was serious.
So I said, “No, it means it was built by the Moors.” He said, “Who are the Moors?”
That was it for me. I know it sounds intellectually snobbish, but it just confirmed what I was beginning to think about him, namely that, although he was very generous and a complete gentleman, he wasn’t quite as well-versed in culture, history, and literature as I was.
Although I had ignored it for a while and at one point thought I would marry him, I now realized it was a problem. I just couldn’t ignore his “Moorish” comment.
And then I noticed it everywhere. He couldn’t even master the basic words in Spanish. He had no idea about the ingredients in paella – and he had chosen Spain because of its wonderful food. When we got home ten days later, we could barely talk.
The crash that scared me
Liz Hodgkinson, 79
Liz Hodgkinson, 79, was involved in an accident with her then-boyfriend on his motorbike. His ruthlessness made her realize he wasn’t the right one for her
The moment we got off my friend’s motorcycle, the bike skidding across the road and us lying on top of each other, I began to wonder. We weren’t seriously injured, but the bike was a total loss and he seemed to think the whole thing was great fun.
“I’ll just get another bike,” he said.
I knew he was driving recklessly. Suddenly I no longer felt enthusiasm and love for this man, but rather the big warning signal of fear.
He followed me at university and I was initially very impressed with him. He was stylish, attractive, full of confidence, smart, rich, spoke several languages and had big plans for a bright future.
He wanted to marry me and even bought an engagement ring in case I said yes. I later found out that he was still with his former girlfriend. My smarter roommate didn’t trust him for a minute.
After we separated, he got married, but also always had a girlfriend on the go.
He later moved to Italy, where he became involved in criminal accounting activities and had to leave the country to avoid arrest.
Thank God I heeded the warning sign and escaped.
The dirty boxer shorts on the floor
Lucy Holden, 33
Lucy Holden, 33, couldn’t bear having to pick up her boyfriend’s dirty boxers from the floor and felt like she was cleaning up after a toddler
I looked at a pair of yesterday’s boxers on the floor of the room I shared with my longest boyfriend yet and felt a rage rise within me.
We were both in our twenties, but it had become a daily routine to follow him around like he was a toddler.
Why was I expected to take care of both of us?
When we first moved in together, I had done everything without complaint, telling myself that he would get better and start helping more.
It was “cooler” and “relaxed” not to argue about such domestic matters. Still, it always scratched. That was 2016, after all – the days of “male” and “female” jobs were over.
We were walking on London’s Clapham Common and I decided to voice my displeasure.
“You’re not going to break up with me because I don’t do laundry?” he said in an incredulous voice.
“That’s literally me,” I shrieked like a banshee. And I did.