That morning, waking up felt like dragging herself through quicksand. Emily had spent a sleepless night in her cosy, warm bedroom, haunted by the bitter argument with her husband. The fight had left her rawJames had demanded she sell their flat to fund some dubious business venture, and the cruelty in his words had crushed her.
She rose, gulped down a strong cup of coffee, then began packing his things into a large suitcase. Thats when she noticedhis passport was missing.
«Right. So hes gone on his own. Good,» she muttered, hot tears spilling down her cheeks.
James had stormed out before after their fights, always coming back when things cooled. But this time felt different. She was the senior sales assistant at the department store now, while he drifted between shady gigs, chasing get-rich-quick schemes. His latest idea? Importing brandy in bulk from France, bottling it at a local distillery, then selling it to corner shops.
«Total con,» shed told him.
He swore the distillery was on board, that thered be inspections, paperworkbut Emily refused. Worse, he wanted to sell *her* flatthe one left to her by her parentsto fund it. When she stood her ground, hed called her a penny-pinching miser. The row exploded, and he left. She knew exactly whereback to his ex-wife, Charlotte.
Once, the thought wouldve cut deep. Now? Nothing. Just numb resignation. James wasnt a husband, wasnt even much of a man. All bluster, no backbone. Always scheming for «easy cash,» as he put it. Fine. Let Charlotte bankroll his nonsense.
Emily wiped her face, took a shaky breath, and picked up her phone. Her oldest friend, Rebecca, worked at a top law firm.
«Becs, I need help,» Emily said, voice steady. «James is gone. I want a divorce. And I need to know if hes tied me to any of his mess.»
Rebecca got to work. Two days later, the truth surfaced: James *had* tried to rope her into the brandy scheme. Hed signed dodgy contracts with French suppliers, even tried to use their flat as collateralbut without Emilys signature, it was worthless. Worse, hed pawned his fathers vintage Jaguar for upfront cash. How hed convinced the old man, a stoic ex-army major, was a mystery.
Meanwhile, James, smug in his «brilliant plan,» had moved in with Charlotte. Flattered by his attention, shed poured her savingswrenched from her wealthy exinto his scheme. Even sent the kids to her parents to play house.
James promised her the world. Instead, the French suppliers vanished with the money. The distillery denied any deal. Left drowning in debt, James was booted out by a furious Charlotte. He crawled back to Emilyonly to find new locks and divorce papers.
Broken and exposed, he was soon arrested for fraud. Real prison time.
Emily, finally free, bloomed. She took a small loan against the flatnot for scams, but to open her own eco-friendly beauty shop. Her retail experience made it thrive. Within months, shed repaid the debt and turned a profit. Rebecca handled the legalities, and for the first time, Emily felt truly in control.
Only one question gnawed at her: *How had she ever loved him?*
Shed met James at her mums office Christmas party at twenty-fivenaive, lonely. He was thirty-three, brooding, freshly divorced. Handsome, though. Charismatic in a rough way. Her mum had warned her.
«Emily, love, dont fall for this one,» shed said gently. «Youre searching for something he cant give.»
But Emily hadnt listened. Three months later, her mum was gonecancer shed hidden till the end. James had clung to her through the grief, moved in, become her rock. A year later, they marriedjust as he quit his job to chase «bigger things.» Then came the miscarriage. Her devastation. His cold dismissal: «Meant to be, I suppose.»
Shed wept; hed vanished into pubs. And now? Now he was rotting in a cell.
Sitting in her bright office, Emily smiled out the window. Her mums words echoed*how right shed been*.
The next day, she bought a bouquet of red rosesher mums favouriteand visited the cemetery. Summer warmth wrapped around her as birds sang in the trees. The photo on the headstone showed her mum young, vibrantthe woman whod tried so hard to protect her.
Emily touched the cool marble. «Its over, Mum. Im okay.»
A breeze rustled the roses, petals trembling as if in reply. She pressed a hand to her chestfelt the steady pulse, the warmth. Her mothers voice whispered in her memory: *»Im always here, love. Right inside your heart.»*
Tears fell, but her smile stayed. She wouldnt betray that love again. Not ever.
