**Diary Entry**
Sorry its come to this.
Oliver, are you sure youve packed everything? Wouldnt hurt to double-checkI called, pausing outside the closed bathroom door.
Emily, leave it, will you? Ive got it alla bloody suitcase full, you sawhe replied over the sound of the shower. But his voice it wavered. Or did I imagine it?
I saw the suitcase. What youve stuffed in there, thoughno, I muttered, stepping back.
Emily, make me a coffee, love? Strong. No milk, he added calmly, turning off the tap.
I went to the kitchen, pulled out the kettle without a word, filled it, added ground coffee, a pinch of saltjust how he likes it. Weve a coffee machine, but Oliver adores my brew. Youre so thoughtful, hed said just the night before, coming home late from work and finding dinner wrapped in a tea towel to keep warmmy nans old habit.
Lately, hed been working latersupposedly. Building his career. Gunning for a promotion. And me? I stayed in the shadows. Cooking, ironing, enduring.
Its heavenly, this brew, Oliver said, striding into the kitchen, pushing damp hair off his forehead. He sat at the table, reaching for the mug.
Emily, the couriers coming todayordered a car cover. Can you sort it? Cash on delivery, he said, stirring in a teaspoon of sugar.
Course. Same as always, I replied, sitting across from him.
This trip couldnt have come at a worse time, he sighed. But I cant say no. You get itits an opportunity, might be the only one. Senior managerno joke.
Right Didnt realise a role like that meant traipsing round the countryside.
Bosss whims. Anyway, Ive half an hour leftIll crack on with emails.
He stood, walked off. Left his mug. Fine. What do you expecthes stressed.
I reached for his cup, then his phone buzzeda message. I opened it.
*Emily, Olivers lying. Theres no work trip. Hes flying to Italy with Isabelle Hart. Stop him before its too late. Hes throwing his life away.*
Charlotte. His younger sister.
Something snapped in my head. Him with Isabelle? No. A joke? But Charlotte wouldnt joke about this. And shed never lie.
The room spun. The air thickened, like concrete. I could barely breathe. Stood unsteadily, poured watercollapsed back into the chair.
I wanted to scream. Smash everything. But all I could think was: *Why?*
Fists clenched, shaking. I wanted to storm in, tear off the mask. But I didnt. He wasnt worth it.
Let him go. And Id prepare a surprisenot with shouting, with action.
Opened the banking app. Joint account: £12,000. Shockingly, hed already helped himself£3,000 gone. My money, mind you. My freelance projects, sleepless nights. And him funding his reunion with an old flame.
I knew about Isabelle. Oliver himself had mentioned her, Charlotte too. School sweetheart, reckless type. Left him twicefirst for an older bloke, then for someone with prospects. Now shes back. And Oliver fell for it. Lied again.
Couldve at least been honest: *Emily, Ive feelings for someone else. Sorry.* Wouldve hurt, sure. But not this gutless. Instead, he stole, lied about the trip, packed his case
Fine. Id take the rest. Today. Every last penny. Thendivorce. His things? Courier to his parents.
Checked my calendarbig online presentation tomorrow noon. If it goes well? Holiday. Not Italy. Spain, maybe. Somewhere hes never set foot.
Emily, Im off. Decided to leave early, he said, walking in sharply dressed, tie knotted.
Safe travels. Hope its productive, I replied, gripping the mug.
Whats that tone?
Your imagination.
Ill miss you
Doubt youll have time for that.
Not helping with the case?
Rather wash up.
Fine. Off I go.
Go on, then.
The door slammed. Oliver had no clue he was leaving for good. Tomorrow, Id change the locks.
Sat down. Sobbed. Bitter, aching tears. Humiliation. Betrayal.
Another message from Charlotte:
*Emily, you alright?*
Wiped my face, dialled.
Charlotte, howd you know?
A mate of Isabelles told me. Shes latched onto Oliver again. And he fell for it. Emily, Im so sorry
Cheers for telling me. Didnt stop him. Let him go.
Hes a fool. Shell ditch him a third time.
His choice. Charlotte, dont let on I know.
Wouldnt speak to him if you paid me. Had enough!
Ta. Lets stay close. Even after the divorce.
Course, love. Stay strong.
Opened the bank again. Another grand gone. In a rush? No. Calmed myself. Transferred the lot to Mum.
Sent the money, shut the phone, watched the sunset. Knowing tomorrow, the sun would risewithout him.
**Lesson:** Trusts like glassonce shattered, even the best glue leaves cracks. And some cracks? Theyre better left unfixed.
