**Diary Entry 20th of March, 2024**
Bloody hell, she just wouldnt let it go.
Listen, why are you nagging me? Im working, alright?! Im the one keeping this family afloat. What kind of stupid question is that? Where else would I be, if not at work? Youre the one who contributes nothingsitting pretty while I foot the bill!
Emily married Edward three years ago. Hed pursued her relentlesslygrand gestures, silly romantic stunts. Once, he even climbed an oak in Hyde Park and declared in front of all their mates that hed do anything for her.
Now, the memory made her sick. She never imagined that just eighteen months after the wedding, everything would change. Edward stopped seeing her as a womanjust a housemaid, a cook, a shoulder to cry on. But a wife? A lover? No. He stopped noticing her, stopped bringing home little gifts. Didnt even wish her happy birthday. She tried talking to him, asking what was wrong, but hed just shrug. Everythings fine.
After their son, Oliver, was born, it got worse. While she was still in hospital, Edward moved her things into the nursery. When she stared at him, baffled, he just shrugged.
Whats the problem? Youre his motheryou should be near him. Im the only one working hereI need proper rest. Simple as that. Babies dont sleep through the night, and I cant turn up at the office with a splitting headache, can I? Well manage.
Lately, Emily couldnt shake the feeling she was no longer the only woman in his life. Sure, Edward had always worked late, come home past midnight. But now, the excuses came with a sharp edge. If she dared ask where hed been, hed snap:
For Gods sake, woman, lay off! Im working! Who else is putting food on the table? What, you think Im out clubbing? Youve got it cushyno job, no bills, just sitting here all day!
Shed flush with shame. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe he *was* just pulling extra shifts. The overtime pay was goodthat had to be it.
She woke to the slam of the front doorhed left without a word. Again. No good morning, no shared breakfast. Not since Oliver was born. Back then, Edward had banished her to the nursery, and their marriage, once so solid, crumbled like a sandcastle.
She sank back into the pillows, then grabbed her phone. It rang forever before he answered, voice tight with irritation.
What?
Hi. I just wanted to wish you a good day. You left so early, and
Bloody hell, Emily, is *this* why youre calling? Ive got a meeting! His laugh was harsh. Youre like a leechclingy, suffocating. Give it a rest!
The line went dead. She wiped her eyes, then slipped out of bed. Oliver would wake soonbest to pull herself together. And think. Think hard about what came next.
In the bathroom mirror, her reflection startled herred eyes, tangled hair, pale cheeks.
*Look at you. Whens the last time you felt like a woman? Just a worn-out mum now. A bloody leech.*
She washed her face, then drifted to the bedroom for fresh sheets. Something on the shelf caught her eyeor rather, the absence of something. Then it hit her.
The box was gone. The one shed bought for their anniversarysomething intimate, something *special*. Shed planned a quiet evening on the 13th, just the two of them. A proper date. Maybe then, hed look at her like he used to.
Did you move it? she murmured. Why?
Two hours later, with Oliver fed and napping, she tried calling again. That wordleechkept gnawing at her. Hed be on lunch now.
Ed, its me again. Sorry, but we need to talk.
*What* now?
Not over the phone. Tonight?
Tonight, I want to *relax*, not listen to you whinge. Christ, woman, cant it wait?
But its important. You dont even *look* at me anymore
Oh, here we go! He groaned. Fine. Lets *talk*. You look well, like any woman after a baby. Bit heavier, bags under the eyesnothing a gym wont fix. And your feelings? Youre a *mother*, Em. Be grateful youve got Oliversome women cant even conceive! Im irrelevant now. Focus on *him*.
Thats not fair! Im still a person! I still need
Alright, fine. Lets start with the obvious. Maybe try a new haircut? And that dressmakes you look like a sack of potatoes. And for Gods sake, wash more. You used to caremakeup, nails. Now? Youre a grey mouse.
A *mouse*? Ed, Im with Oliver all day! When do I have time?
Not my problem. My jobs the money. Yours is the house *and* looking decent. And cook betterlast weeks roast was saltier than the sea. Ugh, youve ruined my mood. Dont call again.
She didnt. That evening, she showered, dabbed on some makeup, even tied up her hair. Met him at the door with a smile.
Whats *this*? He scowled. Dressing up like a circus act? That frocks hideousyour legs look like sausages. Change. Now.
She slapped him. Hard. Then locked herself in the bathroom, scrubbing her face raw. The dress went in the bin. Edward didnt carejust flopped in front of the telly, dinner forgotten.
Later, after Oliver was asleep, she remembered the missing box. A pretext, reallyjust to talk. To ask when hed stopped loving her. He barely glanced up as she sat on the bed.
Ed, wheres the box from the wardrobe?
What box?
She took a breath. Stay calm.
The the one from Boots. The, erm, *protection*. I wanted I thought we could try for a proper night. On the 13th. Mums watching Oliver
He erupted.
Are you *accusing* me? Saying I gave them to some *other* woman? Youre *mental*!
The row exploded. Shouting, tears. Then, suddenly, he snapped:
Fine. *Yes*, I took them. And Im leaving. Shouldve done it ages ago. There *is* someone else.
How long? Her voice was eerily calm.
Months. Before Oliver. You were *insufferable* pregnantwhinging, demanding cuddles I stayed for *him*. Got it?
She almost laughed. Whats she got that I dont?
His grin was cruel. One thing, Em. She *cant* have kids.
She walked out. No tears. Just freedom.
In the nursery, she stroked Olivers cheek. Shed manage.
Edward did one decent thingleft *her* the flat. Both families sided with her. The divorce was quiet, the child support paid on time. He barely sees Oliver. Maybe thats for the best.
Some words stick. *Leech. Grey mouse. Circus act.*
Funny, isnt it? How love turns.
**Lesson learned:** A man who climbs trees for you might just be the same one who knocks you down later. And no amount of begging will make him pick you back up.
