Reaching into her fridge, Sarah-Jane had the strangest sensation. But it wasn’t just the cool air giving her shivers…
Heading to the fridge for some milk for my cuppa, I reached for the handle and froze.
Clocking a photo of my man and his mates on holiday, which had been turned into a magnet, my pulse quickened.
Soon, I’d forgotten all about my brew and was staring at the snap on the fridge door.
Only, it wasn’t my fella that I was going gaga over.
It was a dreamy older man.
‘Are you OK, Sarah?’ my boyfriend Darren said, snapping me out of my thoughts. ‘You’ve gone bright red!’
‘Er, I’m fine,’ I stammered. ‘Who’s that man next to you?’
I said it as casually as I could, pointing at the magnet.
‘Oh, that’s my mate’s father-in-law, Steve,’ he said, peering at the pic. ‘He’s a really nice guy.’
He told me they’d been at his pal’s stag do in Benidorm a few years ago, and had bonded.
With his silver locks and crinkly crow’s feet, he was just my type.
Aged 20, I’d always been attracted to the more mature gent.
Darren, who I’d met after serving him at the pub where I worked, was 37.
Steve must have been even older, but he’d aged very well, like a vintage wine.
You can’t go taking a fancy to your bloke’s mate’s pops, I scolded myself.
Plus, he was probably old enough to be my dad — heck, possibly my grandad!
Besides, things were going swimmingly with Darren and, after a whirlwind nine months, we got married.
Some people didn’t agree with how fast things had moved — or the age gap — so we only tied the knot in front of our parents at a register office.
For a while, things were blissful.
I even forgot about my crush on ‘magnet man’.
But, after almost two years, cracks appeared in the marriage.
'I know you've always liked older men'
Sadly, after yet another row, we decided to break up, and I moved into a friend’s house.
A few weeks later, feeling lonely, I logged on to Facebook. And to my surprise, a familiar face popped up as one of the ‘people you may know’.
I’d recognise that silver fox anywhere, I thought, clicking on Steve’s profile.
Gazing at his gorgeous, craggy face, I smiled for the first time in what seemed like forever.
I bet those wrinkles tell a story, I daydreamed.
Now Darren and I had split up, I figured there was no harm in adding him. But it wasn’t until six months later that he finally accepted me.
When he did, I changed my relationship status to ‘single’ — just so he knew I was available.
After that, Steve and I got busy liking each other’s selfies.
But still, there was no message from the sexy senior.
‘He’s probably just shy,’ I said to a friend.
I had a big, fun-loving personality, so the idea of the strong and silent type was hugely appealing to me.
Then something happened.
I was going to the supermarket with my tiny chihuahua pup Pablo in my handbag, when I was refused entry.
‘Sorry, no dogs allowed,’ the shop worker said, sternly.
Feeling fed up after my long walk, I decided to do a tongue-in-cheek Facebook Live video.
‘Pablo’s tiny, you can’t even see him, but he’s been turfed out of Tesco!’ I fumed. ‘He’s got anxiety, but they didn’t want to hear it.’
Suddenly, I saw Steve pop up in the comments.
You’re hilarious, he’d written, with lots of laughing face emojis.
Finally, he’d messaged me!
I smiled, happy that we shared the same sense of humour.
After messaging back and forth, I decided I had to bring up the issue I’d been swerving.
Did you know I’m 24? I said.
Wow, that’s younger than my daughters! Steve replied.
My heart sank, worried my honesty had put him off.
I’m 54… and a grandpa! he replied.
I almost dropped my phone in shock.
Really? I could have sworn you were in your 40s, I typed back.
I couldn’t believe he was a whopping 30 years older than me. He even had a few years on my mum!
But it certainly wasn’t a deal-breaker for me.
Steve seemed kind, funny and smoking hot — it didn’t matter what his birth certificate said.
After an hour of chatting had flown by, we arranged to meet at the local duck pond, where I was walking Pablo.
Phwoar, I thought, when Steve approached.
It turned out he was even sexier in the flesh!
Even though it was a sweltering day, we walked and talked non-stop.
He explained he’d decided to decline my request, because he thought I was still with his son-in-law’s mate.
But when he knew we’d definitely split up, he’d finally made a move.
Classy, I thought, impressed.
‘You’ll never guess what,’ I said.
Then I told him how for years he’d been my fridge fantasy.
‘No way, I see that photo every day, too,’ he said, pulling out his keyring, which had the same stag-do snap on it.
‘You were the third person in our marriage from day one, and you didn’t even know it!’ I joked.
Then we both fell about in hysterics. It felt like fate.
That night, he came over to mine for a takeaway.
We giggled and flirted for hours.
‘I don’t want you to leave,’ I said.
‘I won’t then,’ he winked.
Taking his hint, I took his hand and led him to my boudoir. As he started slowly kissing my neck, it was like I’d been hit by a bolt of lightning.
The connection between us was electric.
I discovered Steve was an expert between the sheets — so passionate and loving.
Afterwards, he stroked my face tenderly as we snuggled up in bed together.
He treated me like a lady, and I knew it was more than a fling.
Days went by, and we spent more and more precious time together. I found myself really falling for him.
Behind closed doors, our huge age gap didn’t bother me one jot. If anything, it was a source of comedy.
One day, Steve was waxing lyrical about the time England won the World Cup.
‘I was actually alive in 1966,’ he reminisced.
‘I was only a twinkle in my parents’ eyes,’ I laughed.
He also constantly brought up bands I’d never heard of, and moaned about his phone and new technology.
But in the bedroom, he had no trouble keeping up with me… in fact, I was often the one playing catch up!
Only, when we were in public, our 30-year difference was often far from funny.
Walking down the street holding hands, we regularly encountered raised eyebrows and nasty comments from passers-by.
But I quickly learnt not to pay them any mind.
Luckily, my wonderful family and friends were nothing but supportive. My mum didn’t even bat an eyelid.
‘I know you’ve always liked older men,’ she said. ‘As long as he treats you right, that’s the main thing.’
It quickly became clear that this relationship had legs. Only one day, I noticed Steve was looking upset.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked.
‘I’m just thinking, when I’m 74, you’ll only be 44,’ he sighed.
‘It doesn’t matter to me,’ I insisted. ‘I’d rather love you for however long we’ve got, than be with someone younger that I’m not fussed about.’
Now we’ve been together for six months, and are inseparable.
Recently we’ve even talked about marriage and babies.
But this time around, I’m taking my sweet time.
Steve is a grandad of seven and if we get hitched, I’ll be a step-granny in my 20s!
But forget pipes and slippers — I’ll be the most glamorous nan ever, with my fake tan and lash extensions.
People might think we’re an odd match, but I’m so excited about our future.
After all, Steve isn’t just thoughtful and generous — he’s a total babe magnet too!
Sarah-Jane Howell, 24, Harlow, Essex