«Sign the holiday request, would you? HR needs it by lunch,» said the young colleague.
Gillian looked up from her computer and smiled. «Thanks, Olivia. I’ll pop over now.»
She set her work aside and headed to HR, thinking about her upcoming break. Shed hoped for a seaside trip, but her husband, Edward, insisted on staying at homewhy spend money when they could relax in the garden? She didnt argue. After eight years of marriage, shed learned to compromise on small things.
Back at her desk, she noticed several missed calls from Edward. Oddhe rarely called during work hours. She dialled back.
«Gill, can you come home early?» His voice was tense.
«Is everything alright?»
«Victorias here. Says she needs to talk.»
Victoria was Edwards daughter from his first marriage. Twenty-seven, living in another city, she rarely visitedusually only when she needed money.
«Ill try to be back by six.»
Gillian left early and headed home. The three-bedroom flat in the suburbs had been her parents. When shed married Edward, she hadnt thought about prenups or legalities. Love and trust had been enough.
Inside, she heard voices in the living room. Victoria was talking animatedly, Edward murmuring in agreement. Gillian slipped off her heels and walked in.
«Ah, Gillian! Finally,» Victoria said, eyeing her coolly. «Meet Michael, my fiancé.»
«Nice to meet you,» Gillian said, shaking his hand.
«Sit,» Edward gestured to the armchair. «Victoria has something to discuss.»
Gillian sat, uneasy. Something in the air felt off.
«Move out. Im getting married, and were taking the flat,» Victoria announced, no preamble.
Gillian blinked. «Excuse me?»
«You heard me. Michael and I need somewhere to live.»
«Victoria, this is *Gillians* flat,» Edward said weakly.
«Dad, youve been registered here eight years. By law, youre entitled to a share. And Im your only daughteryour heir.»
Gillians face went cold. «Edward, whats going on?»
He wouldnt meet her eyes, fiddling with a napkin. «Gill, Victoria has a point. Maybe we should»
«Should *what*?» She stood. «This is *my* home. My parents bought it. I grew up here.»
«But Dad has rights,» Victoria said, pulling papers from her bag. «I checked with a solicitor. Eight years of cohabitation, shared billshe could claim half.»
«Are you *mad*?» Gillian turned to Edward. «Say something!»
«Gill, lets talk calmly. Victorias youngshe needs stability. We could rent something smaller.»
Gillian stared. The man shed trusted for eight years was calmly discussing evicting her from her own home.
«Edward, this is reasonable,» Michael cut in. «A young couple needs space. Two bedrooms are wasted on you.»
«And who are *you* to decide what we need?» Gillian kept her voice steady, though fury simmered beneath.
«Ill soon be family.»
«Not *my* family.»
«Gillian, dont be rude,» Victoria snapped. «Michaels father owns a construction firm.»
«Lovely. Let *him* buy you a flat.»
«Why buy when we can have this?» Victoria shrugged. «Dad, you want me happy, dont you?»
«Of course, love.»
«Then convince her. This is your home too.»
Gillian pulled out her phone.
«What are you doing?» Edward asked sharply.
«Calling *my* solicitor. And I suggest you all leave.»
«Gill, dont» He reached for her, but she stepped back.
«Mr. Thompson? Its Gillian Harris. I need urgent advice. Tomorrow morning? Perfect.»
She hung up, levelling them with a look. «Now, please go. I need to think.»
«This is *my* home too,» Edward insisted.
«No. Its *mine*. Youre only registered hereby *my* goodwill.»
«Dad has every right to be here,» Victoria snapped. «And so do I, as his guest.»
«Leave. Or Ill call the police.»
«You *bitch*!» Victoria lunged up. «Dad, youll allow this?»
Edward floundered, caught between them.
Gillian grabbed her bag and left. Hands shaking, she called her friend Martha, who lived nearby.
Over tea, she explained everything. Martha sighed. «I *told* you to get a prenup.»
«Not helping.»
«What now?»
«See the solicitor tomorrow. Then? Divorce.»
Edward called. She ignored it.
The next morning, Mr. Thompsona grey-haired man with kind eyeslistened carefully.
«The flats yours,» he confirmed. «Bought pre-marriage, inherited. Edward has no claim.»
Relief washed over her.
That evening, she returned home. Edward sat at the kitchen table, tea untouched.
«Victorias gone,» he said quietly.
«Good.»
«Gill, I was shocked. I never thought shed»
«Did you *ever* consider siding with me?»
He looked down. «Shes my daughter.»
«And I was your *wife*.»
A week later, Michaels mother phoned. «Victoria lied about the pregnancy. Theyve split.»
Gillian wasnt surprised.
The divorce was swift. Edward moved out, apologetic but unrepentant.
Then came Nicholasa soft-spoken programmer at work. Kind, with a quiet humour.
«Divorced?» he asked once.
«Recently.»
«Me too. Five years ago.»
They took walks. Shared coffees. Laughed.
One afternoon, they bumped into Edward and Victoria. The encounter was brief, tense.
As they walked away, Nicholas squeezed her hand. «Im glad you divorced him.»
«Why?»
«Or wed never have met.»
Gillian smiled. Life had a way of turning disasters into blessings.
That night, she deleted old photos of Edward. Eight yearssome good memories. But when tested, hed failed. She hadnt.
Her phone chimed. Nicholas: *Dinner tomorrow?*
She typed: *Yes.*
And life moved on.
