Matthew never came back. His things were gone. The wardrobe held only empty hangers. On the bedside tablea note scribbled on a torn scrap of paper: «Couldnt handle it. Sorry.»
When Emily fell ill, the world didnt collapseit simply stopped breathing.
At first, it was fatigue and aching limbs, then a fever that neither pills nor injections could break. Soon came the pain in her chest, as if someone had driven a red-hot rod into her and slowly twisted it. She lay on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the ceiling, wondering: *Is this just the flu? Or something worse?*
That evening, Matthew came home late. He shrugged off his coat, tossed his keys onto the sideboard, and without glancing at her, asked, «Youre still lying there? The dishes arent done. The place is a mess.»
«Yes,» she whispered. «I cant get up.»
He sighed as if it were her faultbeing sick, lying there, ruining his evening.
«Fine. Stay there. Im taking a shower.»
He didnt touch her. Didnt hold her.
She stayed silent. She didnt even have the strength to resent him.
The next day, she was taken to hospital. The diagnosis was grim: double pneumonia, worsened by a viral infection, with possible autoimmune complications. The doctors spoke quickly, clinically, without emotionbut in their eyes, Emily saw: *This could go badly.*
She asked the nurse for her phone to call Matthew.
The nurse brought it. She dialled his number. He didnt answer.
She tried again an hour later. Then again. And again.
On the fourth attempt, he picked up. His voice was flat, as if shed woken him from something important.
«What?»
«Matthew Im in hospital. Its serious. I need»
She didnt finish. He cut her off.
«Im at work, Emily. Not now.»
«But Im scared»
«Youre a grown woman. The doctors are there. What do you wantme to drop everything and run to you?»
She went quiet. A lump tightened in her throat.
«Alright,» she said softly. «Sorry for bothering you.»
He didnt reply. Just hung up.
Day three in hospital.
Emily lay with an IV in her arm, staring at the window. Outsidegrey sky, wet pavement, lone pedestrians in raincoats. The ward was silent except for the ticking clock and the hum of ventilation.
She dialled Matthew again. Ringing. Still ringing.
Then her roommate spoke. «Dont call him. Hes gone. Left the keys with me.»
«Gone? Where?»
«Didnt say. Just packed his things and left.»
Emily closed her eyes. Something inside her snapped. Not her heartsomething invisible, fragile, that had tied her to him for years.
She didnt cry. She didnt even have the strength for that.
Day seven. Her mother arrived.
She burst into the ward with bags, parcels, and a look that said shed tear the hospital down if anyone hurt her daughter.
«That wretched man!» she cried when she saw Emily. «How could he?»
Emily tried to smile, but it was weak.
«Mum»
«Shh. Im here now. Ive got you.»
Her mother stayed. Slept on the fold-out chair, brought broth in a thermos, argued with doctors for better treatment.
«Youre not alone,» she repeated every morning. «Youre not alone, Emily.»
And for the first time in a long time, Emily believed it.
Discharge.
Three weeks later, she was releasedweak, thin, dark circles under her eyesbut alive.
At home, everything was as shed left it. Dust on the shelves, a stale smell. Dirty dishes. Matthew hadnt returned. His things were gone. The wardrobeempty hangers. On the side table, the same note: *Couldnt handle it. Sorry.*
Emily stared at the words. Then crumpled the paper and threw it away.
Her mother helped her clean, wash the windows, air out the rooms.
«Fresh start,» she said.
Emily nodded.
The first month after illness.
She could barely walk. Breathing was hard. But every day, she took ten more steps than the last. Then twenty. Soon, she made it to the balcony. Then the garden.
Work called. Asked when shed return.
«Soon,» she replied.
Though she didnt know if she ever would.
Return.
Six weeks later, she stepped into the office. Colleagues glanced at her cautiouslylike a fragile vase that might shatter.
«Were so glad youre back!» her manager said, hugging her.
Emily smiled. For the first time in monthsgenuinely.
Work became her lifeline. She forgot the pain, the hollowness in her chest, the man whod left her in her darkest hour.
At night, she wrote in her journal. Not complaintsjust facts:
*»Today, I walked three blocks without gasping. Today, I ate a whole apple. Today, I didnt think of him.»*
Autumn.
Leaves fell. Emily bought a new coatdeep red, the colour of life, not sickness.
She started yoga. Then photography classes. Saturdays, she went to the library.
Life wasnt perfect. But it was hers.
One evening, passing a shop, she saw a small stained-glass horse in the windowmulticoloured, delicate.
She stopped.
As a child, shed dreamed of horses. A white mare with a cloud-like mane. Her parents had laughed: «Weve got a garden, not a ranch!» But one day, her father had brought her a wooden figurinerough, but with kind eyes.
Emily bought the glass horse.
«Its a symbol,» the shopkeeper said. «Freedom. Strength. Survival.»
«I know,» Emily smiled.
Winter.
Matthew called in December.
«Emily can we talk?»
She stayed silent.
«I didnt realise it was so serious. I thought you just had a cold. Then I was ashamed. I didnt know how to come back.»
She watched the snow outside. Silent, still.
«You didnt come back, Matthew. You vanished. When I needed you mostyou werent there.»
«I know. Im sorry.»
«Forgiveness isnt something I can just give. Its something you earn. And you didnt even try.»
He was quiet.
«I miss you,» he whispered.
«I dont,» she said. «I missed who you couldve been. But you werent that person.»
She hung up.
Her heart didnt ache. Not even a little.
Spring.
Emily sold the old furniture, bought new. Adopted a black cat with green eyes. Named her Blossom.
She started writing short storiesabout illness, about horses, about women learning to breathe again.
Her mother visited every weekend. They drank tea, laughed, watched old films.
«Youre glowing,» her mother said once.
«Am I?»
«Yes. Like someone lit a lamp inside you.»
Emily smiled.
«Maybe because Im not afraid of the dark anymore.»
Summer.
She visited the countrysidean old childhood friend. There were fields, a river, a stable.
On the first day, she approached a chestnut horse with warm breath and gentle eyes.
«Can I?» she asked the stablehand.
«Go on,» he said. «Dont be afraid.»
She mounted the saddle. The horse moved. Wind in her face, grass under hooves, sky overhead.
Emily closed her eyes.
And for the first time in so long, she didnt just feel aliveshe felt free.
Epilogue.
A year passed.
Emily no longer thought of Matthew. No hatred, no longingjust absence. He was a chapter. Painful, dark, but over.
She wasnt searching for love. But she wasnt afraid of it either.
She was living.
And in that, she found her true victory.
*Sometimes people leave not because youre unworthy of love.
But because they dont know how to stay when it matters.
And so you learn to stay for yourself.
And thatis enough. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything. She planted a garden in the backyardroses, lavender, sage. Every morning, she stepped outside to water them, the sun warm on her skin. The cat followed, weaving between her legs. She spoke to no one, and it felt like a gift. The silence wasnt empty anymore. It was full of breath, of growth, of small, steady miracles. One evening, as she sat watching the sky turn gold, a neighbour stopped by with a jar of homemade jam. They chatted briefly, easily. When the neighbour waved goodbye, Emily realized shed laughedreally laughedwithout remembering the last time it had happened. And that night, she wrote in her journal: *»Today, I was happy. Not despite everything. Because of everything.»*
