Hey, love, youve got to hear whats been going on with Laura and Paul lately its like a proper drama straight out of a soap.
So Laura was in the kitchen whipping up dinner. Paul had asked for seafood pasta, so after work she dashed to the local Tesco, grabbed everything she needed, and got cooking all by herself. Paul ran a bit late, but when he finally walked in he was lugging a bunch of roses and shouting, Laura, look whos home! I swear, she just burst out laughing, took the flowers and plonked them in a vase.
After they ate, they settled onto the sofa, talked about the days hassles, and put on a film. Theyve been married for over ten years now, and the early fire has settled into a cozy, comfortable warmth. They run a small joint business Laura handles the suppliers, Paul finds the customers and looks after the accounts. They live in a nice flat in a suburb of Manchester, no kids yet, and theyre not really thinking about that until theyre a bit older.
A few weeks back Laura found a scruffy grey striped kitten wandering the street and, despite Pauls protests, took him in. Paul was dead set on sending the little thing to a shelter. Why pick up a mutt? If you want a cat, get a proper breed a Maine Coon or something, he grumbled. Laura got attached and named him Milo. Paul never liked him, and the dislike went both ways Paul would shove the cat when he could, and Milo would jump onto his trousers, shedding fur and clawing at his sweater.
One night Paul snapped, Im getting rid of that cat hes ruining my clothes! Laura tried to calm him down, Dont just toss things around, put them away. Milo doesnt like the mess. He muttered something about the name being daft and Milo gave him that cold, greeneyed stare that only cats can manage.
That was the start of a yearlong standoff between husband and cat. Lately even the sight of Milo made Paul shout, Whats he doing here? Hell cause trouble! Laura would always say, Paul, love, hes just minding his own business, hes not a menace. Paul would whine, Laura, hes driving me mad, can we just give him away? Shed reply, No way, hes mine now. And over the months Milo grew into a huge, fluffy, gorgeous cat.
Laura did her usual Saturday cleaning while Paul was off on a Thursday business trip to Liverpool. Hed be gone till Sunday, so she gave the flat a proper onceover dusted, mopped, the works. Milo started poking around a cupboard, and Laura noticed a slim folder stuck in a crack. She pulled it out and inside were piles of receipts: hotel bookings, short break vouchers, pricey jewellery, flight tickets none of it for her. There was also a car sale contract signed by a Natalie, but the payments were all in Pauls name.
She flipped through, spotting Paul’s handwritten notes on a few of them. He kept all these receipts to later expense them through the company, effectively hiding money. Laura felt a wave of nausea, wanted to tear the papers up, scream, call Paul, but she held herself together. Milo circled, leapt onto the folder, and started purring like a little therapist. She whispered, You saw this, and you showed me. Milos purrs calmed her, and she thought, Right, Milo, I need to think before I act.
She photocopied every receipt and document, then that evening hunted the internet for the cars owner. She found a young woman posting a picture of a brandnew red car with the caption gift from my love. No picture of the boyfriend, just a pair of hands and a back. Laura recognised Pauls hands and his posture he had a mistress and was blowing the family money on her.
Paul came back Sunday evening, all cheerful with flowers, shouting, Wheres my wife? Laura, looking a bit pale with red eyes, said, Ive caught a cold, my head hurts. He tried to suggest a doctor, but shed already taken some meds and declined.
He fell asleep, leaving his phone on the kitchen counter. Laura, nervous but curious, picked it up shed never looked at his phone before. Inside were texts, messages, messenger chats that confirmed everything. That night Paul sent his sunshine a message: Missing you. Lets meet Tuesday.
Monday Laura sent Paul off to work, saying she was ill and would stay at the countryside cottage. She gathered all the papers and marched to a solicitor. She filed for divorce and a split of the assets, without telling Paul a word, just saying, Im really unwell, Ill be at the cottage for a while. She still popped into the office once a week, commuting from Manchester, because her work could be done remotely.
When Paul got the divorce papers, it hit him like a bolt of lightning. He rushed to Laura, What are you thinking? Weve been together for years. Ive done everything for you. She replied, I dont love you any more. See you in court. She kept quiet about the mistress. In court the receipts and the car contract were laid out, and Paul was left speechless.
The judge asked, Did you really spend that money on a lover? Buy her a car? Paul stammered, Yes, I did. Lauras lawyer secured a full division of the assets, half of the business, and even reclaimed half of the money Paul had spent on his affair, since it was family cash. Paul didnt contest.
In the end Paul kept the flat, Laura got the cottage and a decent lump sum. The cars stayed where they were each kept their own. Before the divorce Laura had already shifted some suppliers to a new company and restarted her own venture, now handling both finance and sales herself. She, Milo, and the little business are doing just fine.
Pauls left fuming, now his exwife is a competitor a successful one at that. His moneys dwindled, his new romance isnt panning out, and hes back to hopping from dates to an empty flat.
Crazy, right? Thought youd get a kick out of it. Catch up soon!
