**Diary Entry 12th March**
*»Let me go, Max»* The words still echo in my head. We tried to build a life together, but its broken beyond repair. Why keep hurting each other? Why not just end it?
*»Oh, now you want out?»* He smirked, that cold, mocking smirk. *»Dream on. Youre my wife. Were a family. What, life not good enough for you? Found someone else?»*
I sat on the edge of the sofa, fingers twisting the frayed edge of the blanket. Another row, another night choking on words I couldnt say. Two years of marriagesome nightmare I couldnt wake from. The last six months? Worse. Max had turned into some petty tyrant, nitpicking every breath I took.
It started small. This morning, a parcel arrivedjust a moisturiser.
*»Wasting money again?»* His voice cut before Id even shut the door. I tried to explain, but he wasnt listening.
*»Ever think of anyone but yourself? My parents could use the help, but noyoud rather splash out on rubbish.»*
*»I work, Max. Its my money. And I do help them»*
*»Pennies!»* he snarled. *»Youre selfish, Emily. Always have been. Dumping your wages on creams and clothes while I carry this family.»*
His voice rose, eyes flashing. I criedagain. He slammed the dooragain. Left me there, hollow.
I remember how it began. He was sweet, attentive. But bit by bit, the mask slipped. Or maybe Id just been blind.
That evening, he found me at the kitchen table, tea gone cold. *»Crying again?»*
*»You hurt me.»*
*»Your fault. Think before you act.»*
*»What am I doing wrong?»*
*»Everything! I break my back at work, and you? Tapping keys half the day, lounging the rest!»*
*»I work too»*
*»For peanuts!»* he snapped. *»I keep us afloat. You should be grateful. Not once have you thanked me.»*
*»I am grateful. But that doesnt mean you talk to me like this.»*
*»How else? Youre never happy. And the tearsGod, theyre exhausting. Stop playing the victim.»*
The disgust in his voice made my stomach twist.
*»I dont understand,»* I whispered. *»Why?»*
*»Do better. Stop winding me up, and well be fine.»*
No warmth in his eyes. Just irritation.
*»Maybe we should talk to someone,»* I ventured. *»A counsellor?»*
*»You need the shrink,»* he scoffed. *»Youre the one inventing problems.»*
That was it. The final thread snapped. He stomped off to the telly, and I dug out an old notebook. Time to plan.
—
Next morning, I slipped out early. A café, a coffee, and a shaky breath. My notebook lay open:
1. *Find part-time workneed more savings.*
2. *A flat, even just a roomsomewhere safe.*
3. *Pack essentials.*
4. **
*»Emily?»*
I looked up. Sarahan old schoolmatestood there, smiling.
*»Sarah! Its been ages.»*
*»You okay? You look pale.»*
God, when was the last time someone asked? Not Mumdidnt want to worry her. Friends? Max had pushed them all away. The dam broke.
*»Its bad, Sarah. Hehe picks at everything. Shouts. Im scared itll turn physical soon. I need to leave, but how?»*
She listened, didnt interrupt.
*»Come to mine,»* she said firmly. *»Stay as long as you need. And there are helplinesfree counselling for women like you.»*
*»I didnt know.»*
*»Now you do. Youre stronger than you think.»*
We met after work. Two hours of talking, and I felt lighter.
—
Home. Max was waiting, glaring at the telly.
*»Whereve you been?»*
*»Out.»*
*»Out? Got a bloke now?»*
Ice slid down my spine.
*»Dont be ridiculous.»*
*»Wouldnt put it past you.»*
Deep breath. *»Max, we need to talk.»*
*»About what? Your affairs?»*
*»About us. Our marriage.»*
*»And?»*
*»I want a divorce.»*
Silence. Then
*»You what?»*
*»I cant do this anymore. You belittle me, control me. Im miserable.»*
*»Youre mad! Divorce? Youre nothing without me. You should be thanking me!»*
*»I dont owe you anything. I deserve happiness.»*
*»Happiness?»* He laughed, sharp and cruel. *»You think youll find that alone? Youre worthless. No one will want you.»*
I said nothing. The fight was gone.
*»Im leaving tomorrow.»*
*»Where? Youve got nothing!»*
*»Ill manage.»*
*»Ill make your life hell!»* he roared. *»Youll regret this!»*
I walked away. Packed a bag.
He slept on the sofa. I stared at the ceiling, fear gnawing. Alone, Id be scared. But staying? That terrified me more.
—
Morning. He was at the table, coffee in hand.
*»Youre not going anywhere.»*
*»I am.»*
*»Try it. Ill drag you back.»*
I turned. He lunged, shoving me against the wall. My head cracked against plaster. As I slumped, his fist raised
I closed my eyes. Waited.
