My boyfriend borrowed my car – then I found out what he did

Watching my date slide into the passenger seat, I was filled with both excitement and nerves.

This was the first date I’d been on since my relationship had imploded only a month earlier. For weeks I’d been left distraught after learning my ex had been cheating on me, but now I finally felt ready to get back into the dating pool.

As he strapped himself in, I felt sure the night would go off without a hitch – and then he spoke.

‘Oh… I know this car,’ he said with a wry smile and I cocked an eyebrow in confusion.

He then proceeded to tell me all about the passionate night he’d had with a man in a car, this car, my car and my heart sank.

The man he was describing was my ex. 

I met my ex Alex* back in the autumn of 2010 on a dating site that has long since gone extinct called Black Gay Chat (BGC).

Back then, I was a carefree, horny 25-year-old but Alex made me curious. I found him gorgeous – he had the most beautiful smile in his photos. But he also seemed genuine, and so that physical connection turned deeper – I was besotted.

We talked for about three weeks before going on our first date in July. 

I lived in North London at the time but he lived in South London, so I agreed to drive down and pick him up in my car (a blue Ford Mondeo).

The date was fairly straightforward: we went to eat, then drove around for a while before parking up for a walk along the river in Surrey Quays.

It might sound like I’m exaggerating but I fell in love on that walk. We held hands, and didn’t let go of each other – it was rom-com perfect. His infectious laughter and witty banter instantly captivated me.

From then on, every spare moment we had we were together. I used to drive down every evening after work to see him and even when we went out, we only had eyes for each other.

Unsurprisingly, our relationship blossomed quickly after that. We spent countless hours exploring the city, sharing secrets, building a foundation of trust and affection and made it official soon after. Within a few months, I started to believe that he was the one. 

Then, about nine months into our relationship, he started getting too busy to see me. However, he told me he was with his best friend ‘working on a new business venture’ so I could hardly be mad.

And then he started asking to borrow my car.

At first he said he needed it to pick up a friend from the airport, so of course I didn’t think twice about handing him the keys. 

The next time he asked was because he needed to pick up a present for his niece. He was eventually requesting the car at least twice a week.

I never questioned him or suspected anything was amiss though. He always had a plausible reason and always returned it the same night. I had no reason not to trust him.

But, one evening while Alex was out with my car again, I decided to check his laptop. I had a gut feeling something was wrong – I wanted to understand why he needed my car so often. 

I felt a pang of guilt as I typed in his password, but my curiosity was overwhelming. And turns out, snooping like that was the best thing I could have done.

To my horror, I found a series of emails and text messages to dozens of different people that revealed he was cheating on me. My heart pounded in my chest as I read the words that shattered my world: ’I can’t wait to f**k you again’.

I was so angry that I couldn’t eat, blink or even breathe properly because I was filled with rage and despair. All I did was wait for Alex to come back to mine so I could confront him.

When I did, Alex initially denied everything. But as I presented him with the evidence, his façade crumbled, and despite his denials, the guilt was written all over his face.

We argued for hours and I realised there was no way back for us.

I could not deal with the distrust and lies, so I told him, loud and clear, it was over. 

That’s how I found myself on a first date a month later. He seemed like a sweet guy, and we had simply organised a drink – I wanted to take it slow.

But before our night could even begin, he dropped that bombshell.

Not only had Alex picked him up, he’d then driven them to our special place by the river in Surrey Quays where he told me they’d performed all manner of physics-defying positions in such a confined space.

I felt sick, devastated, heartbroken, and betrayed all over again. I ended the date about five minutes later and decided to take a break from dating. I wasn’t ready.

After a few months I thought I’d finally begun to heal from the whole ordeal, but then I was approached by a stranger, who worked at the hotel I was having dinner at with a friend. 

He said he’d seen my car outside that very hotel multiple times – with a different person behind the wheel, and dozens of people in the passenger seat every time. ‘I thought you should know what I’ve been seeing happening in you car’, he told me.

I knew he was talking about Alex.

Finding the texts had been one thing, but these constant discoveries that he’d used my car to carry out his affairs, really stung.

I didn’t think I’d ever find out the true scale of his infidelity, but then in September 2012 he asked to meet in person, which is when he revealed to me that he had an STI. 

He continued to claim I was the only person that he had slept with, essentially blaming me for his diagnosis, but I knew the truth. Furious, I left. 

I got tested myself and my results, thankfully, came back negative. And it was only after that, that Alex confessed to having cheated on me for several months.

He slept with 25 guys – and four of them had been in my car.

I was both shocked and relieved to finally have the truth.

As the saying goes: ‘trust takes years to build, seconds to break, and forever to repair’. Even though my pain still lingers from this moment, I have been able to heal.

But I’ll be keeping my car keys to myself in the future.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing James.Besanvalle@metro.co.uk. 

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