«Listen here! I’m loaded now, and it’s time we split,» declared the husband with a smug grin, oblivious to the storm he was brewing.
«Youve no idea how your dreary, plain-Jane existence grates on me these days,» sneered Henry, eyes glinting. «A grey little nobody like you? Im worth far more!»
«You honestly think cash makes you a better man?» replied Emily, voice trembling as she fought back tears.
The cosy glow of the evening sun bathed the kitchen where Emily was fixing supper. The scent of beef stew and freshly baked scones hung in the air.
Henry barged in, brandishing an envelope like hed won the lottery. «Em! Em! Youll never guess!» he crowed, still in his muddy wellies. «Some long-lost great-uncle croaked and left me a fortune! Were rolling in it now!»
Emily turned, wiping floury hands on her apron. «Thats lovely, Harry,» she said evenly. «But who was this relative? Weve never heard of»
«Who cares!» Henry laughed, planting a peck on her cheek. «We can finally live like royals!»
Emily blinked but didnt get a word in as Henry launched into a monologue about sports cars and tropical holidays, arms flailing like an overexcited schoolboy.
By the next morning, however, after a sleepless night playing pretend tycoon, Henry had morphed into a monster. He eyed Emily like something stuck to his shoe, barking orders and holding forth on his newfound superiority. Youd think hed been knighted, not inherited a few quid.
«Look, Em,» he announced over toast, avoiding her gaze, «now that Im minted, we ought to reevaluate us.»
Emily froze, tea halfway to her lips. «Pardon?»
«I mean, lets be honestIm moving in different circles now,» he said, crunching marmalade smugly. «And youre just well. Ordinary.»
«Other circles?!» Emily choked out. «Have you lost the plot?»
«Ive got money,» he repeated, as if that explained everything. «Youre holding me back.»
Stunned, Emily rallied her best matesSophie and Gemmafor a crisis cuppa at their local.
«Girls, brace yourselves,» she blurted as they slid into a booth. «Henrys come into money and reckons Im beneath him now!»
Sophie nearly spat out her Earl Grey. «Youre joking. What relative? The blokes family trees deader than a doornail!»
Gemma leaned in, brows knitted. «Whatll you do?»
«I havent a clue,» Emily sighed. «Hes turned into an absolute wazzock overnight!»
Sophie snorted. «Em, sure this isnt some daft mix-up? Maybe hes just gone temporarily bonkers?»
Gemma chewed her lip. «Stay strong. Weve got your back.»
Days passed, and Henry grew more insufferable. Though the cash hadnt materialised, he swanned about like Lord Muck, treating Emily like hired help.
«Em! Wheres my blasted suit?» he bellowed one morning. «Ive got a very important meeting!» (Likely just the pub with his new investor friends.)
Emily wordlessly hung it up, then ventured, «Harry, can we talk?»
«Not now,» he dismissed. «Some of us have actual ambitions.»
That evening, over decaf lattes, Emily unloaded on Sophie and Gemma. «I cant take much more. Hes become a total berk!»
Sophie slammed her cup down. «Righttime to knock him off his high horse. The prat hasnt even seen a penny yet!»
Gemma squeezed Emilys hand. «Well sort this. Promise.»
Weeks rolled on. Henrys tirades grew crueller, accusing Emily of gold-diggingironic, given shed once supported him through unemployment with her teaching salary.
«Youre transparent, Em,» he sneered. «Just biding your time for my cash.»
Emily finally snapped. Over scones with the girls, Sophie dropped the bomb: «Em the inheritance letter? Its fake. We orchestrated the whole thing to show you his true colours.»
Emilys jaw hit the table. «You WHAT?»
Gemma winced. «Wed heard whispers he was two-timing you at the golf club. Wanted you to see him for the entitled toff he really is.»
Emily burst into tearsthen laughterthen more tears. «You devious witches! But thank you.»
That night, Henry came home to find Emily waiting, arms crossed. «Its over. I know about the sham inheritance.»
Henry turned puce. «Youyoud choose those harpies over me?!»
«No,» Emily said calmly. «Im choosing myself.»
As he stormed out, Sophie and Gemma arrived with prosecco and takeaway. «Now for the real news,» Gemma whispered, producing a lawyers card. «Turns out, there IS an inheritancefrom your great-aunt in Cornwall. The solicitors been trying to reach you for weeks.»
Emily gawped. «You mean Im actually rich?»
«Richer than Henry ever will be,» Sophie cackled, popping the cork. «To fresh starts and faux fortunes!»
Glasses clinked as Emily grinned through tears. Some friendships, it seemed, were worth more than gold.
