Idly scrolling through a dating app on my phone, I flopped on my bed.
‘Where are all the good guys?’ I thought to myself. 
I was just about to log out when my phone pinged with a new match.
His name was Dylan and as I clicked onto his profile my heart fluttered.
He had an edgy, rocker style but behind his silver rimmed glasses he had kind eyes.
Hey, I’m Sophie, I tapped out.
It wasn’t long before Dylan replied and we got chatting.
‘Honestly, he’s the nicest person you could ever meet,’ I gushed to my pals over a drink one night.
It wasn’t long before I realised Dylan and I had a special connection.
‘Shall we take this off the app?’ I typed, suggesting we should swap numbers.
I didn’t want other girls messaging Dylan and when we began talking on the phone, we really hit it off.
A month after first clicking on the dating site, Dylan and I met in person.
‘We could go to the cinema and then get some food,’ he suggested. 
‘Sounds perfect,’ I replied.
The romantic spark between me and Dylan was just as sizzling in person.
He told me had a little girl who lived with his ex.
‘I see her all the time,’ Dylan said. ‘Does it bother you that I have a daughter?’
‘Not at all,’ I told him. ‘I’d love to meet her one day.’
Dylan and I officially became a couple and I’d never been happier.
We were in touch all the time but dating wasn’t easy because I lived in London, while Dylan was in Birmingham.
We made sure we saw each other at least twice a month, but I wanted more.
‘I miss you,’ I told Dylan.
‘I miss you too,’ he replied.
So, a few months later, when Christmas rolled around, Dylan came up with an idea.
‘Why don’t you move up here?’ he asked. ‘You can stay with me and my family for a couple of weeks over Christmas and then hopefully we can make it more permanent.’
The thought of living with Dylan full-time made my heart soar and I said yes immediately.
‘I can’t wait to wake up to you every morning,’ Dylan said.
I felt flattered that Dylan wanted me to spend Christmas with his family and I assumed that at some point over the festive period, I’d meet his little girl.
‘Yeah, you will,’ Dylan shrugged casually. But he was vague about arrangements and brushed me off.
I didn’t want to push it as it was a big deal and I knew that when Dylan was ready, he’d introduce us.
On Christmas Day, when Dylan took himself upstairs to call his ex and speak to his daughter and I gave him some space.
But 90 minutes later, there was still no sign of him, so I popped up to the bedroom and poked my head around the door to check on him. But Dylan was nowhere to be found…

‘He’s not here,’ I told his mum as I ran back downstairs.
‘He’s probably popped over to see his daughter,’ she said, before turning her attention back to the turkey in the oven.
It didn’t bother me that Dylan had gone to see his little girl. But why had he just disappeared without saying anything?
I punched out a text to him.
‘Where are you? You didn’t tell me you were going out. Are you ok?’ I wrote.
For the rest of the afternoon, I kept checking my phone but Dylan didn’t reply.
I was left watching his family open their Christmas presents.
I’d only known them six months and I felt incredibly awkward.
He finally arrived home at 5pm.
‘Did you have a good time?’ I hissed, trying to keep a lid on my anger.
‘Yeah great, I watched her open all her presents,’ Dylan smiled, showing me videos on his phone of his daughter tearing into her gifts.
It was a sweet scene but he’d been gone for so long!
I could have spent the day with my family instead, I was with Dylan’s parents and sister who I didn’t really know.
I didn’t want to ruin the festivities though so I dropped it.
In the New Year, I invited Dylan on a caravan holiday with my family.
‘Why don’t you bring your daughter too?’ I said, but Dylan shook his head.
‘No it’s fine,’ he replied.
One night, I popped out with my mum, leaving Dylan in the caravan with my brother.
‘Was that you on the phone to Dylan?’ my brother asked when I got back.
‘No, what do you mean?’ I replied.
‘Dylan was in your room on the phone to someone for ages,’ my brother shrugged.
I knew Dylan wouldn’t have been speaking to his mum, it was too late.
So who was he chatting to?
Dylan dismissed my concerns when I asked him about it but when his phone rang later and the caller ID came up as a love heart emoji, alarm bells rang in my head.
I didn’t say anything but my mind raced.
After the caravan trip, I went back down to London to spend time with my mum.
‘I don’t know what’s going on, he’s acting shady,’ I confided in her.
‘Talk to Dylan, you can work it out,’ she soothed.
She was right and by February that year, I’d officially moved in with Dylan and his family.

Then one day, when no one was home, the doorbell rang and I padded downstairs.
‘Thanks,’ I said as the delivery driver passed me a parcel address to Dylan.
Pulling out my phone, I tapped out a text to Dylan.
You’ve got a parcel here, I said.
Open it for me, his reply flashed up on my screen.
He thought it was a present for his daughter, but when I tore open the package, I gasped.
‘Oh pants,’ I gulped, my jaw dropping in shock.
Inside, nestled in tissue paper was a set of racy Ann Summers underwear.
I can’t wait to see you again tomorrow… and for you to move in with me, the accompanying note read.
It was then signed off with his ex’s initial.
I felt sick.
 When Dylan’s mum came home minutes later, I took the box to her.
‘What the hell is going on?’ I asked, feeling like I was about to burst into tears.
‘She wants him back, she’s trying to convince him to stay with her,’ Dylan’s mum admitted.
Furious, I snapped a pic of the sexy red lingerie and sent it to Dylan, along with the caption: We’re over. She can have you, I’m done.
Devastated, I bagged up my things and got on the next train back to London.
I blocked Dylan’s calls but a month or so later, he travelled to see me.
I felt sick when he admitted he’d never really stopped seeing his ‘ex’. He’d even had sex with her on Christmas Day, while I’d been at his family home, waiting for him!
‘We’ve got a child together, I wanted to be there for her. But one thing led to another. I don’t know why she’s doing this, it’s like she can’t bear to see me happy,’ Dylan pleaded.
It was almost too much to bear but when Dylan laid all his cards on the table and begged for another chance, I decided it was time for a fresh start.
‘No more secrets,’ I said and he promised.
Now we are giving things another go and although it will take time to rebuild the trust, we’re moving on.
But I don’t think I’ll ever forget the day I discovered the knickers that caught my fella with his pants down.

Sophie Abbs, 22, Strood
As told to Jack Falber

Dylan says, ‘Yes (the story as put to him is accurate). Yes (I slept with my ex on Christmas Day and around that time).’