**Diary Entry**
This morning, waking up was harder than usual. Emily had spent a sleepless night in her cosy, warm bedroom. Yesterdays argument with her husbandcruel and unfairhad left her utterly demoralised. It had all started when James insisted they sell their flat to invest in some shady business venture.
She dragged herself out of bed, downed a strong cup of coffee, and began packing his things into a large suitcase. Only then did she notice his passport was missing.
*»Right. So hes left on his own. Good riddance,»* she murmured, hot tears spilling down her cheeks.
James had threatened to walk out before, after every row. But things had always smoothed over, and theyd carried on. She was now a senior sales assistant at a department store in London, while James flitted between dubious gigs, chasing his next big break.
Then came his latest schemeimporting brandy in bulk from Spain, bottling it at a local distillery, and selling it to independent off-licences. He swore there were contracts in place, that the distillery had approved it, that experts would inspect everything. Emily, however, saw right through it. The whole thing reeked of a scam.
Worse, the upfront cost was astronomicalmoney they didnt have. Hence the demand to sell their flat. Thats when the fight erupted.
The flat had been her parentsher safety net. She refused point-blank to risk losing it. James called her a penny-pinching miser, and in the heat of it all, he stormed out. She knew exactly where hed gone. To his ex-wife, Charlotte.
Once, Charlotte had divorced him, taken the kids, the house, everything. Then shed reappeared out of nowhere, newly single, calling James over for *»old times sake.»* Emily had always suspected that if not for the kids, hed have moved back in for good.
Now, though, she felt nothingno jealousy, no anger. Just numb indifference. James had failed as a husband, as a man. All bluster, no substance. Always chasing the next *»quick score,»* as he put it. Well, good riddance. Let Charlotte bankroll his nonsense.
Emily wiped her tears, took a deep breath, and decided it was time to take control. She wouldnt waste another thought on James or his mad schemes. The flat was hers. Her future was hers. She picked up the phone and called Sophie, an old friend who worked at a top law firm.
*»Soph, I need your help,»* she said firmly. *»James is gone. I want a divorce. And I need to make sure he hasnt dragged me into any debts or scams.»*
Sophie got to work. Within days, she uncovered that James had indeed tried to pull off the brandy deal. Hed signed shady paperwork with his Spanish *»partners,»* even tried to use the flat as collateralbut without Emilys signature, it was worthless.
Worse, hed pawned his fathers Jaguar for an advance. How hed convinced the old mana stern, no-nonsense army veteranwas beyond her.
Meanwhile, James, convinced of his *»genius plan,»* had moved in with Charlotte. Flattered by his attention, shed sunk her savingswhat shed squeezed out of her exinto his scheme. Shed even shipped the kids off to her parents to *»rekindle things.»*
James had promised her the world, spinning tales of wealth within months. Hed borrowed from gullible mates, paid the Spanish suppliers, and waited for his shipment.
But there was no brandy. No shipment. The *»partners»* vanished, the distillery denied everything, and James was left drowning in debt. Charlotte, furious, kicked him out. He tried crawling back to Emily, but shed already changed the locks and filed for divorce.
In the end, James had nothingno family, no money, a ruined reputation. Soon after, he was arrested for fraud and given a proper prison sentence.
Emily, free of the toxic marriage, flourished. She took out a small loan against the flatnot for a scam, but to open her own eco-friendly beauty shop. Her retail experience paid off. Within a year, shed cleared the debt and turned a steady profit. Sophie handled the legalities, and for the first time, Emily felt truly independent.
Only one question nagged at her: *How had she ever loved a man like James?* Youth? Naivety? Probably.
Theyd met at a work Christmas partyher mums doing. At twenty-five, with university friends drifting away, shed been lonely. James, brooding and divorced, had seemed *mature.* At thirty-three, hed complained about *»working for the man,»* sworn hed *»strike out on his own.»* Shed been dazzled.
Her mum had warned her. *»Dont fall for this one, Em. Hes not what you think.»*
But Emily hadnt listened. Three months later, her mum was gonecancer shed hidden until the end. James had been her rock then, moving in, comforting her. A year later, they married.
Then came the miscarriage. *»Meant to be,»* James had said, coldly. Hed started disappearing at night. And thenwell. The rest was history.
Now, sitting in her office, Emily gazed out the window and smiled. She thought of her mum, of her warnings. *How right shed been.*
But life was different now. James was behind bars, regretting his choices. She? She was building something real.
The next day, a warm Sunday, Emily bought a bouquet of red rosesher mums favouriteand visited her grave. Birds chirped in the trees; the portrait on the headstone showed a woman too young to be gone.
*»Its over, Mum,»* she whispered. *»Dont worry about me anymore.»*
The roses swayed in the breeze, and for a moment, she felt lighter. As if her mum had heard. She remembered her last words: *»Ill always be in your heart, love. When you need me, just listen.»*
Emily pressed a hand to her chest, felt the steady beat, the warmth. Tears spilled, but she smiled. She wouldnt make the same mistakes again. Not for her. Not for her mum.
