“Im sorry its come to this,” I muttered under my breath.
“Oliver, are you *sure* you packed everything? Should I double-check?” I called, hovering outside the bathroom door.
“Emily, leave it! Ive got it allone suitcase, you saw it yourself,” he replied over the sound of the shower. But his voice it wavered. Or was I imagining it?
“I saw the suitcase. What you stuffed inside itthats another matter,” I mumbled, stepping away.
“Emily, make me a coffee, will you? Strong. No milk,” he added calmly, turning off the water.
I shuffled into the kitchen, wordlessly filling the kettle, spooning in grounds, adding a pinch of saltjust how he liked it. We own a coffee machine, but Oliver swears my stovetop brew is better. *”Youre so thoughtful,”* hed said just last night, when he stumbled in late from work to find his dinner wrapped in a tea towelmy nans trick to keep it warm.
Lately, hed been staying later and later*work*, he claimed. Career stuff. Prepping for a promotion. And me? I stood still, stirring, ironing, tolerating.
“Divine aroma of a divine drink!” Oliver declared, striding into the kitchen, towel-drying his hair. He grabbed his mug and slumped into a chair.
“Emily, a deliverys coming todaynew car seat covers. Can you sign for them? Cash on delivery,” he said, stirring in a spoon of sugar.
“Sure. As always,” I replied, sitting opposite him.
“This business trip couldnt have worse timing,” he sighed. “But I cant back out. You understandits a shot at department head. Big deal.”
“Right Never realised the job required a European tour.”
“Bosss whims. Anyway, Ive got half an hourjust need to finish something on my phone.”
He stood, leaving his half-finished coffee. Typical. Couldnt blame himhe was stressed.
I reached for his mug when my phone buzzeda message. I opened it.
*”Emily, Olivers lying. Its not a work trip. Hes flying to Italy with Charlotte Cooper. Stop him before its too late. Hes wrecking his life.”*
Megan. His little sister.
Something snapped in my head. *Him? With Charlotte?* No. A joke? But Megan wasnt the pranking type. And shed never lie.
The room swam. The air turned to cement. I gulped water, gripping the chair to stay upright.
I wanted to scream. Throw things. Demand answers. But all I could think was: *Why?*
I clenched my fists. Thought about storming in, tearing off his mask. But no. He didnt deserve the drama.
Let him go. Id give him a surprisenot a scene, just action.
I opened our banking app. £42,000 in the joint account. Impressive. But hed been quicker£10,000 already gone. *My* money. *My* freelance projects, *my* late nights. And hed blown it on a holiday with his ex.
I knew about Charlotte. Olivers high-school crush, the one who dumped him twicefirst for an older bloke, then for some “up-and-comer.” And now she was back. Oliver fell for it. And lied.
He couldve just said: *”Emily, Im in love with someone else. Sorry.”* It wouldve hurtbut not like this. Instead, hed sneaked around, spun tales, packed his bags
Fine. Id empty the rest. Today. Every penny. Thendivorce. His stuff? Courier to his parents.
I checked my calendarbig presentation tomorrow. If it went well, Id book a holiday. Not Italy. Maybe Portugal. Somewhere hed never been.
“Emily, Im offbest leave early,” he announced, striding in, tie perfectly knotted.
“Bye. Safe trip,” I forced out, white-knuckling the mug.
“Why the tone?”
“Imagination.”
“Ill miss you”
“Doubt youll have time.”
“Not walking me out?”
“Prefer washing up.”
“Right. See you.”
The door slammed. Oliver had no idea hed just walked out for good. Tomorrow, Id change the locks.
I collapsed onto a chair. Sobbedugly, heaving cries. Betrayal. Humiliation. *Coward.*
Another message from Megan:
*”Emily, you okay?”*
I wiped my face and called her.
“Megan, howd you know?”
“Friend of Charlottes bragged about it. Shes circling back for round three. Olivers an idiot. Emily, Im so sorry”
“Thanks for warning me. Didnt stop him. Let him go.”
“Hes a prat. Shell ditch him again.”
“His choice. Dont tell him I know.”
“Wouldnt bother. Hes dead to me.”
“Thanks. Well stay in touch. Even after the divorce.”
“Course, Emily. Stay strong.”
I reopened the app. Another £3,500 gone. *Move fast.* NoI transferred the rest to Mum. *My* mum. Hed forfeited his share.
“Mum, sending you £38,500. Hes already nicked the rest.”
“Love, whats happened?”
“Were divorcing. Hes jetting off with his fling.”
“Oh, sweetheart Hold on. Weve got you. Youll find someone better.”
“No, Mum. Not looking. Might just have a baby solo. Be done with it.”
“Well theres always Aunt Margarets nephew”
“Mum, *not now.*”
“Alright. Just dont give up, love.”
I hung up. Pulled myself together. Tomorrow was a new day. Oliver was gone, but I was still here. Whole. Honest. And my life? Wide openno lies, no betrayal, just me.
