**Diary Entry 28th October**
*»Who Needs You Anyway?»*
«Henry, please, just let me go We tried to make this marriage work, but it hasnt. Why keep torturing each other? Lets just get a divorce.»
«Not a chance,» he sneered, lips twisting. «Youre not going anywhere. Youre my wife, Im your husbandthats how it is. What, is life so terrible? Found someone else? Answer me when Im talking to you!»
***
Emily sat on the edge of the sofa, fingers worrying the fringe of the throw blanket. After yet another row with Henry, she wished she could vanishjust disappear from his life forever. Divorce was an option, but the thought of filing filled her with dread. Two years of marriage now felt like a nightmare, especially the last six months. Henry had morphed into a petty domestic tyrant, inventing new reasons to berate her daily.
It had started that morning over something trivial. Emily had ordered a new face cream.
«Wasting money on rubbish again?» His voice cut through the quiet as she walked in with the parcel.
She tried to explain, but Henry wasnt listening.
«Do you ever think about *us*? Or is it just you? Face cream! Couldve spent that on something usefullike helping *my* parents.»
«Henry, come on. I work, its my money. And I *do* help your parentsyou know that.»
«Pennies, Emily. They need *real* help. Youre selfish. Always about youyour creams, your clothes!» His voice rose, eyes flashing.
Emily broke into tears. Henry, as usual, slammed the door, leaving her alone with the crushing weight of helplessness. That was his patternwind her up, then walk away.
…She remembered how it began. Henry had been perfectattentive, kind, loving. But gradually, something shifted. Or maybe shed never seen the real Henry.
That evening, he returned to find her sipping tea in the kitchen.
«Crying again?» he muttered without looking up.
«No. You justyou hurt me.»
«*I* hurt *you*? You brought this on yourself.»
«What am I doing wrong?» she whispered.
«*Everything*. You dont even try. Im out there working, exhaustedand you? Typing away half the day, lounging the rest!»
«I work too, just as hard as you,» she said, instantly regretting it.
«Your job? Pocket change! *I* provide. You should be grateful, Em. Not once have I heard a thank you in this whole marriageand I *deserve* one.»
«I *am* grateful. But that doesnt mean you can speak to me like this.»
«How *should* I speak to you? Youre never happy. And the waterworksGod, its exhausting. Always playing the victim!»
«Henry Its *you* whos never satisfied. Im scared to speak, to buy anything, even to *rest*. If I lie down after lunch and you find out, youll scream at me! I cant take it anymore»
«Oh, spare me the drama. Im sick of it.»
The disgust in his voice made her physically ache.
«I dont understand,» she whispered. «Why are you like this?»
«Just do things right, dont piss me off, and well be fine.»
She met his eyesno warmth, no love. Only irritation.
«Maybe we should talk to someone,» she ventured. «A couples counsellor?»
«Counsellor? *You* need a shrink. Youre the one inventing problems.»
That was the moment Emily decided to leave. Henry ate in silence, then retreated to the telly. She pulled out an old notebook and began drafting an escape plan. Every detail mattered.
***
The next morning, Emily left early, stopping at a café to clear her head. Over coffee, she opened her notebook:
*Step one: Find a part-time job. Need more savings. Step two: Rent a flat or a room. Step three: Pack essentials. Step four*
«Emily?» A familiar voice startled her.
She looked upSophie, an old school friend.
«Soph! What a surprise!»
«Been ages,» Sophie smiled. «Everything alright? You look pale.»
Emily hesitated, then crumbled. «Its Henry. Hes cruel. Criticises, humiliates me. Im terrified hell hit me next. Hes raised his hand during arguments»
The words tumbled out. Sophie listened, then squeezed her hand.
«Leave, Em. Come stay with me. And there are free helplines for women like youabuse victims.»
«I didnt know,» Emily admitted.
«Now you do. And youre stronger than you think.»
***
That evening, Henry was waiting.
«Where were you?» he demanded, eyes glued to the telly.
«Out walking.»
«Walking? Or meeting someone?»
Her blood ran cold.
«Dont be absurd.»
«Wouldnt surprise me. Youre slippery.»
«Henry, stop. Im done with this.»
«Done with *what*? Compliments? Tough.»
She took a steadying breath.
«We need to talk. About us.»
«Go on, then.»
«I want a divorce.»
Henry gaped.
«You *what*?»
«I cant live like this. You belittle me constantly. Im miserable.»
«Youre *mad*! Divorce? Youre *nothing* without me! You owe me!»
«I owe you *nothing*. I deserve happiness.»
«Happiness? Youll *rot* without me. No one wants you, Emily. *No one*.»
She said nothing. The decision was made.
«Im leaving tomorrow.»
«*Where*? Youve got *nothing*!»
«Ill manage.»
«Ill *ruin* you!» he roared. «Ill find you, make you regret being born! Ungrateful witch! I *made* you!»
Emily turned and walked to the bedroom to pack.
Henry slept on the sofa. She lay awake, staring at the ceilingafraid of the future, of being alone, of never finding happiness. But most of all, she feared staying.
At dawn, she dressed quietly. Henry was at the kitchen table, coffee in hand.
«Youre not going anywhere,» he hissed.
«Its over, Henry.»
«*I decide* when its over!»
He lunged, shoving her against the wall. Her head cracked against the plaster as she crumpled. Henry raised his fist
She shut her eyes, bracing for the blow.
**Lesson learned:** No one has the right to make you small. Fear of the unknown is better than a life spent drowning in someone elses contempt. Walk away before the fist falls.
