“Sorry it’s come to this,” I whispered to myself.
“Oliver, did you pack everything? Should I check again?” I called, pausing outside the bathroom door, the sound of running water muffling my voice.
“Emily, leave it! I’ve got everythinga whole suitcase. You saw it yourself,” he answered, but his voice trembled. Or was I imagining it?
“I saw the suitcase. Not what you stuffed inside,” I muttered, stepping back.
“Emily, make me a coffee, will you? Strong. No milk,” he added, calm again, as the water shut off.
I moved to the kitchen, silent, filling the kettle, measuring the grounds, a pinch of saltjust how he liked it. We own a coffee machine, but Oliver prefers the way I make it. “Youre so thoughtful,” hed said just last night, coming home late to find me wrapping his dinner in a tea towel, the way my nan used to, keeping it warm.
Lately, hed been staying out laterwork, he claimed. Career prep. Promotion looming. And me? I stood still beside him. Cooking. Ironing. Enduring.
“Divine smell for a divine drink,” Oliver declared, striding into the kitchen, shaking damp hair from his forehead. He took his seat, reaching for the mug.
“Emily, a deliverys coming todaynew car seat covers. Pay on delivery,” he said, stirring in a spoon of sugar.
“Right. As usual,” I sat opposite him.
“This business trip couldnt have worse timing,” he sighed. “But I cant back out. You understandits a chance, maybe the only one. Department head. No joke.”
“Of course Didnt realise that sort of job meant travelling around.”
“Bosss whim. Anyway, Ive got half an hour leftjust need to sort a few things.”
He stood, leaving his mug behind as he vanished into the next room. Fine. He was stressedcouldnt blame him.
I reached for his cupthen my phone buzzed. A message. I opened it.
*”Emily, Olivers lying. Not a business trip. Hes flying to Italy with Sophie Carter. Stop him before its too late. Hes throwing everything away.”*
Martha. His younger sister.
Something snapped in my head. Himwith Sophie? No. A joke? But Martha wouldnt lie. Wouldnt joke about this.
The room blurred. The air turned thick as cement. My breath caught. I stood, shaky, poured myself waterthen slumped back into the chair.
I wanted to scream. To break something. But one thought drowned the rest: *Why?*
I clenched my fists. Thought of storming in, tearing the mask off his face. But no. He didnt deserve the drama.
Let him go. Id give him a surprise of my own. Not a scenean act.
I opened the banking app. £42,000 in the joint account. Impressivebut hed already taken £10,000. *My* money. My freelance projects, my late nights. And hewhat? Blew it on a holiday with his old flame?
I knew about Sophie. Oliver had mentioned her. Martha dropped hints. School crush, a real piece of work. Dumped him twicefirst for an older bloke, then for some “promising chap.” Now she was back. Oliver fell for it. And lied.
Couldnt he just be honest? *”Emily, Ive fallen for someone else. Im sorry.”* It wouldve hurtbut not like this. Insteadsneaking about. Draining accounts. Packing bags.
Fine. Id take the rest. Today. Every penny. Thendivorce. His things? Courier to his parents.
I checked my calendaran important presentation tomorrow. If it went well, Id book leave. Not Italy. Spain, maybe. Somewhere hed never been.
“Emily, best be offtraffics a nightmare,” Oliver announced, pristine in his suit and tie.
“Bye. Safe trip,” I forced out, gripping his abandoned mug.
“Whats with the tone?”
“Imagination.”
“Ill miss you”
“Doubt youll have time.”
“Not walking me out?”
“Dishes wont wash themselves.”
“Suit yourself. See you.”
The door slammed. Oliver had no clue hed just left for good. Tomorrow, Id change the locks.
I sank into a chair. Sobs tore loosebitter, humiliated. Betrayed.
Another message from Martha: *”Emily, you okay?”*
I wiped my face and called.
“Martha, whered you hear this?”
“Sophies mate let it slip. Shes latched onto Oliver again. Hes fallen for it. Emily, Im sorry”
“Thanks for warning me. Didnt stop him. Let him go.”
“Hes an idiot. Shell ditch him a third time.”
“His choice. Marthadont tell him I know.”
“Wouldnt dream of it. Sick of his nonsense.”
“Thanks. Well stay in touch. Even after the divorce.”
“Course, Emily. Stay strong.”
I reopened the banking app. Another £4,000 gone. *Move fast.* NoI steadied myself. Transfer the rest to Mum. My own. Hed forfeited any right.
“Mum, sending you £38,000. Hes already taken the rest.”
“Whats happened, love?”
“Were divorcing. Hes off to Italy with his mistress.”
“Bloody hell Emily, hold on. Were here. Youll get through this. Find someone who deserves you.”
“No, Mum. Not looking. Maybe Ill just have a kid. Alone. Be fine.”
“Well thats an idea. Auntie Margots got that nephewdecent lad”
“Mum. Not now.”
“Alright, love. Just dont give up.”
I hung up. Pulled myself together. Tomorrow was a new day. Oliver was gonebut I was still here. Whole. True. And everything ahead of me. No lies. No betrayal. No him.
