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WHEN Laura Gahagan, 33, from Larkhall, South Lanarkshire, met Stephen Thomson, it was like a script from a movie.

But this rom-com was about to take a very dark turn…

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Pulling up at the traffic lights, I gasped in astonishment.

Sitting in the car next to mine was my dream man – the perfect stranger I’d first spotted months ago.

As he lowered his window, smiled and said hello, my heart skipped a beat.

It was just like a scene from a rom-com – too far-fetched and coincidental for real life. Yet here I was, living the moment I’d imagined so many times.

I’d first seen Stephen Thomson, now 45, at the end of summer 2019.

A newly divorced single mum with a two-year-old son, I was overweight, fed-up and definitely not looking for love.

But out shopping on my local high street, I walked past a gorgeous man with lovely dark hair and eyes.

We didn’t speak, but there was something magnetic about him. For weeks afterwards, I couldn’t stop thinking about him and even told my friends.

Four months later, over Christmas, I was out driving when I stopped at a red traffic light, and there he was. When the lights changed, he gestured for me to pull over, and we swapped numbers. I could hardly believe it was happening.

For our first date in January 2020, Stephen, who worked as a driver, took me for cocktails followed by a fancy dinner.

There was immediate chemistry between us, a zing I had never felt before.

It was love at first sight and Stephen admitted he felt just the same.

Over the months, he bought me flowers, ran me baths and rubbed my feet.

He booked posh restaurants and we did activities like cold-water swimming together.

But he was inconsistent. He’d often not show up for dates, and our relationship was up and down, on and off.

Still, I was head over heels and reasoned that surely the universe had brought us together again for a reason?

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Then one evening in 2022, my phone pinged with a text message from a male friend. We had dated briefly in the past, but there was nothing between us now.

Stephen read the message and instantly lost his temper, accusing me of being unfaithful and labelling me a “tramp” and a “whore”.

Feeling blindsided, I tried to calm him down, assuring him he was the only one I loved.

After that, he began checking my phone regularly and grew suspicious of any male friends I had. It was really tricky, because I worked as a receptionist in a car dealership where the staff were mostly guys.

Scrolling through my contacts list, Stephen messaged my ex-partners, asking them intimate details about our sex life. I begged him to stop – it was so humiliating.

He would keep grilling me for information, telling me he needed to know about every part of me. He tried to make me think he was acting out of love.

I was slowly being brainwashed by him.

Several times, Stephen checked my doorbell camera to see what I was wearing, then interrogated me over why I didn’t have tights on, which he took as evidence of my infidelity.

As our arguments became more and more heated, my family begged me to leave him.

And yet, even though I was miserable and hated the control he had over me, I couldn’t seem to cut the cord. I couldn’t forget the way we’d met – that romantic scene at the traffic lights, the whirlwind of our first months together. We were soulmates, weren’t we?

In between the bad times, there were good times, too, with lovely holidays to Loch Lomond, as well as Italy and France, that made me hope the worst was behind us.

In June 2023, Stephen gave me a custom-made ring, and he moved in with me at the end of that year.

Then, one afternoon in February 2024, we went shopping.

Stephen was driving when, on the way home, I checked my phone.

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He lost his temper, accusing me of texting other men. I snapped back that I wasn’t, but I realised that was a mistake: Stephen hated anyone answering him back.

He slowed down, screaming at me to get out of the car.

I managed to grab my bags and stumbled out on to the road.

Luckily, I wasn’t injured and I ran home, but when I arrived, his car was already there.

In panic, I hid down a side alley, unsure what to do.

An hour later, cold and shivering, I realised I couldn’t stay hidden forever.

Without a plan, I crept out and began walking up the street, away from my home. But when I heard an engine revving behind me, I knew Stephen was following.

He yelled at me to get in the car. To my horror, he pulled up and grabbed me, trying to force me inside. When I refused, he began screaming in my face.

He picked me up and tried to throw me into the passenger seat. I pushed my legs out straight so that he couldn’t force me in, and then clawed on to the door frame to wriggle away.

When I managed to get free, I ran straight across the road in front of a bus, which was going slowly because of busy traffic.

Back at home, I locked my windows and doors, terrified he might come for me.

Thankfully, he never appeared. Later that day, I was stunned to see two police officers at my door.

They told me that several bus passengers had called to report what they had seen him do to me.

They’d already spoken to Stephen, who had tried to blame the whole thing on me. Yet still, I couldn’t bring myself to speak out against him.

The police officers were kind and patient.

They told me one of the passengers, a teenage girl, was willing to go to court for me.

Eventually, almost a year later, I felt strong enough to make a police statement.

Stephen was charged with domestic abuse assault and pleaded guilty in June 2025, but failed to show for sentencing.

I was on tenterhooks. He began messaging and walking past my house. I called the police, but after they’d been round, Stephen texted to say: “Seen the police.”

Then: “I’ll be at the door shortly. F**k the police.”

My blood ran cold. At night, I spotted him on my doorbell camera, just standing in my garden and staring through the window. I was living on my nerves, worried what he would do next.

He was watching me all the time.

In March 2026, Stephen finally appeared at Hamilton Sheriff Court, where he was handed a non-harassment order and a community payback order with 24 months supervision and 135 hours of unpaid work.

In May, after breaching bail, he was sentenced to 45 hours community service and handed another non-harassment order. I’m so disappointed with the sentence, but relieved it’s all over.

Since we split, I’ve lost nearly 5st and had a breast lift.

My confidence is slowly coming back and I’m finally living without fear. I am so thankful I found the strength to walk away, and I hope others can learn from my story.

Stephen brainwashed me into believing he was my dream man. Now, I know he was my worst nightmare.

  • For help and support with domestic abuse, visit Sutda.org.

Domestic abuse – how to get help

DOMESTIC abuse can affect anyone – including men – and does not always involve physical violence.

Here are some signs that you could be in an abusive relationship:

  • Emotional abuse – Including being belittled, blamed for the abuse – gaslighting – being isolated from family and friends, having no control over your finances, what you where and who you speak to
  • Threats and intimidation – Some partners might threaten to kill or hurt you, destroy your belongings, stalk or harass you
  • Physical abuse – This can range from slapping or hitting to being shoved over, choked or bitten.
  • Sexual abuse – Being touched in a way you do not want to be touched, hurt during sex, pressured into sex or forced to have sex when you do not consent.

If any of the above apply to you or a friend, you can call these numbers:

Remember, you are not alone.

1 in 4 women and 1 in 7 men will experience domestic abuse over the course of their lifetime.

Every 30 seconds the police receive a call for help relating to domestic abuse.


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