**Diary Entry 12th October 2023**
James walked out with nothing but a duffel baglike he was off to the gym, not abandoning a ten-year marriage Id thought was solid. He stood in the doorway, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips.
«Wont leave you the keys, love. No point,» he said, as casually as if hed just told me wed run out of tea.
I looked up, my voice steady. Inside, I was frozen, but Id be damned before I let him see me crack. «What do you mean, no point?»
«The flats covering the debts, Sophie. *Our* debts.»
*Our* debts. As if his harebrained NFT schemethe one Id begged him not to touchwas somehow *ours*. «I showed you the numbers. Told you it was a scam.»
«And who cheered when the first ten grand rolled in?» His grin made my stomach turn. «We blew it on that trip to Ibiza, remember? Fairs fair.»
He tossed a thick stack of paperwork onto the kitchen table, scattering over the napkin holder wed bought in Brighton on our honeymoon.
«Loans. Liens. Solicitors say youve got a week before the bailiffs come.»
I didnt cry. Didnt beg. Just stared at him with the coldest contempt I could muster. «A *week*?»
«Call it freedom,» he said, adjusting the cufflinks Id bought him last Christmas. «Met someone else. With her, I can *breathe*. With you Christ, it was like living inside a bloody spreadsheet.»
He didnt say she was twenty-two, or that her father was the investor hed been grovelling to for months. Didnt admit his business was sinking and this was his last lifeline.
«Right,» I said, shoving the papers aside. «Piss off, then.»
«No tantrums? Bit disappointed, honestly.» Hed wanted tears. Needed them, probably, to feel less like the villain.
«Tantrums are for people who can afford them,» I said, meeting his gaze. «Get out. And dont ever come back.»
He shrugged and left. The door clicked shut.
Alone, I stared at the mountain of debt hed dumped on me. Then I rang my brother.
«Tom, its me. Need your help. Nonot in trouble. Starting over.»
Tom arrived within the hour, flipping through the documents with the grim focus of a barrister. «Planned it all. Half these loans are in your name. The rest, youre guarantor. Legallyyoure sunk.»
«I trusted him.»
«Trust doesnt excuse stupid, Soph,» he snapped, then sighed. «Fine. Whats this starting over bit?»
I opened my laptop. A sleek presentation filled the screen: *»EdenGrow.»* Modular urban farming systems.
Tom whistled. «This is»
«The hobby James mocked while he was busy playing Wolf of Wall Street,» I finished. «Two patents. Software that cuts energy costs by 30%. All I need is capital.»
He closed the laptop. «Ill invest. But as a partner30%. First, you hire a proper solicitor. Mines ruthless. You deal with James *only* through him. Understood?»
Three days later, I was in a shoebox office. The solicitor had filed for bankruptcy protection. James rang. I ignored it. Then a text: *»Soph, dont be daft. Just need your signature on a few things.»*
Forwarded to the solicitor. The reply was instant: *»Another loan. Dont touch it.»*
I blocked James number. That night, while unpacking, I found our wedding album. Flipped it open. Two grinning faces.
Turned out, hed only ever seen a reflection of what *I* could give him. Without a second thought, I tossed it in the bin.
Eight months later, *EdenGrow* was thriving. My techgrowing premium herbs in urban warehouseshad restaurateurs queuing up. Contracts with three high-end chains. Meanwhile, James saviour investor saw right through him. His business crumbled without me handling the books.
When he heard about my success, he *snapped*. Phoned Tom, ranting about fraud, even faked bank statements to smear me.
Tom slid the papers across his desk. «Believe him?» I asked quietly.
«Course not. But he wont stop.»
Something in me hardened. «Then Ill stop him. Tomyour security team. I need your best tech bloke. Got a hunch.»
Tom blinked. For the first time in years, he saw it*real* steel in me.
Two days later, the tech guy dropped a USB on my desk. «Ponzi scheme. Fake investment sites. Took crypto. Screwed over some *very* dodgy blokesincluding his girlfriends dads mates.»
I didnt go to the police. Leaked it accidentally to the right people.
James wasnt arrested. Just *ruined*. Forced to sell everything to repay debts. The girlfriend vanished.
A year later, he was shivering at a bus stop. A sleek Jaguar I-Pace pulled up. I stepped outsuit sharp, phone to my ear, smiling. Didnt even glance his way.
As the car glided off, it hit him: hed thought he was setting me free. In truth, hed freed me *from him*.
Two years on, *EdenGrow* expanded to France and the Netherlands. At Heathrow, scrolling news, I spotted a familiar name: James exs father was remarrying. And there, in the backgroundJames himself, in a valets uniform.
I stared. Felt *nothing*. He was a footnote now.
Tom rang later. «Hows the Dutch rollout?»
«On track,» I laughed. «Ever regret backing my hobby?»
«Only that I didnt drag you away from that prat sooner. You were always like thishe was just a boulder in your path.»
«Not a boulder,» I said. «A cracked mirror. Had to smash it to remember who I was.»
Revenge wasnt his downfall. It was the day he stopped mattering.
Freedom wasnt his failureit was my flight.
