Victor Greene stands on the doorstep the man Emma Clarke has divorced twice, the last time four years ago. In his hands he holds a bouquet of white roses, his face wearing the same grin that once won Emmas twentytwoyearold heart.
Emma, Im back, he announces, as if proclaiming a victory. I realise I made a huge mistake. Youre the best woman Ive ever known.
Emma steps aside, letting him into the hallway. She smiles thinly. Well, Victor, what a surprise. Come in, but take your shoes off I dont want you trampling through my house again.
She slides back to the kitchen, continues her breakfast, and doesnt even offer him a seat. How are you, Victor? she asks, flipping an omelette. Did the latest job drive you out, or did you decide to look for a temporary refuge?
Victor is taken aback. In four years he has forgotten how calmly Emma can handle a crisis. He remembers her as a bright, forgiving young woman, not the thirtysixyearold with steel nerves he now faces.
Emma, I want to rebuild our family, he says, setting the roses on the table beside her plate. All these years Ive been drifting. I finally understand my place is here, with you and the kids.
Emma sips her coffee. And whats changed? Did your talent for disappearing at the worst possible moment finally run out?
Im serious, Victor snaps. I want to be with you, to look after the children, to support you. I came with flowers and an open heart.
And an empty wallet, as usual? Emma retorts, then softens. Sit down. Want a coffee? Or are you on some new diet to find yourself?
Ten years earlier, Emma, then a student at Manchesters School of Economics, met Victor at a college party. He was three years older, working as a security guard at the local market, and seemed unusually mature.
Will you marry me? he asked after two months. Why wait? I already see you as the one.
Victor, we barely know each other, Emma hesitated.
Whats there to know? he smiled, kissing her hand. Love isnt arithmetic, lovebug. No calculations needed.
Blinded by romance, Emma agreed. Victor rented a onebed flat for them after the wedding. She juggled university studies with nighttime translation gigs to pay the rent. Victor earned barely a few pounds a week and constantly complained about his boss.
Emma, Im a creative soul, he explained one night, slumped on the sofa after yet another dismissal. I need a job that lets me express myself. These grey office jobs just dont get me.
Right, dear, Emma replied, tallying the family budget. While you search, Ill work double. Its no problem.
After graduating, Emma aimed for a banking job her redtopped diploma and language skills promised a decent future. Then she discovered she was pregnant. Their son Connor arrived when Emma was twentythree; a year and a half later, daughter Sophie followed.
Children are a blessing, Victor murmurs, rocking Sophie. Well earn the money later. Love is what matters.
Exactly, Emma replies, mentally calculating how to pay the next utility bill. Kids are everything; the rest will follow.
Emma becomes the primary earner, working online as a translator, teaching English via video calls, and writing articles. Victor changes jobs five times in four years, each time offering a flimsy excuse for his low pay.
I cant work where my soul isnt happy, he philosophises. Better to earn less than lose myself.
Sure, Emma sighs, exhausted. Inner peace is priceless. The outside will sort itself out.
When Connor turns four and starts nursery, Victor declares, Im burnt out, Emma. I need freedom to find myself. Im filing for divorce.
What does find myself even mean? Emma asks, startled. We have two kids, a mortgage Victor, what are you talking about?
I need space, he says coldly. Im suffocating in this routine. I want half the house.
But I bought that house! Emma protests. Im paying the mortgage!
Were a family, Victor shrugs. Everything acquired in marriage is split equally. Thats the law, love.
Emma realises she could end up homeless with the children. Their twobed flat in a new development is all they own. She borrows from friends, takes another loan to buy Victors share. Her retired mother, a former teacher, cant help financially.
Sweetheart, if I had the money Id give everything away, she whispers into the phone, tears spilling. But my pension is pennies, and that scoundrel how can he do this to his own kids?
Dont worry, Mum, Emma comforts herself.
The court sets child support. Victor pays punctually for two years, then disappears, missing birthdays and New Year calls, simply vanishing.
A month after the divorce, Michael Harris, a former classmate of Victor and longtime friend of Emma, appears on the doorstep with a bunch of daisies.
Emma, Ive loved you forever, he says, nerves evident. I know the timing is awful, but will you marry me? I dont mind the kidsIll love them as my own.
Michael, youre a wonderful man, but I cant use your kindness as a rescue, Emma replies gently. You deserve someone who loves you wholly, not someone whos grateful for a bailout.
Michael, a respectable programmer earning a decent salary, looks hopeful but Emma only feels gratitude.
Im not ready, she says softly. Can we stay friends? That means a lot to me.
Ill wait, he promises. As long as it takes, Ill wait. Youre worth the wait.
I cant waste my best years on you, Emma smiles sadly. Find someone who sees the treasure right away.
For two years Emma lives with the children, working tirelessly. She completes advanced training and starts delivering online economics lectures to parttime students, paying off debts and reducing the mortgage. Michael offers financial help several times, but Emma refuses, not wanting any obligation.
Emma, arent you proud? Michael urges. Were friends.
Im grateful for our friendship, but I wont let money ruin it, she answers. Our bond means more than any aid.
Then Victor returns, humbled.
Ive spent the past two years in isolation, he says, kneeling in the living room. Ive reevaluated everything. I see now that family is the most important thing, children are my purpose, and true love only comes once.
Where have you been all this time? Emma asks, eyes locked on him.
Ive been working, renting a room, trying to rebuild my strength and understand my mistakes, Victor explains. Im ready to be a real husband and father.
Connor, now twelve, and Sophie, ten, rush to hug him, remembering the dad who once played hideandseek and read bedtime stories. Emma never told them about her own tears after his first departure.
Dad, youre not leaving again? Sophie asks, hugging him tightly.
Never, sweetheart. I finally belong here, with the people who matter most.
Emma yields. After years of solitary struggle, the children pleas, and relentless fatigue, she consents. Victor formally proposes, and they register their marriage at the local registry office.
Why do we need a marriage licence? Michael asks when Emma tells him the news. Isnt living together enough?
Victor insists it shows hes serious, Emma explains. And honestly, I want to believe in some stability.
Emma, a man whos fled once are you sure? Michael worries.
Please, Michael. People can change. Give us a chance, Emma pleads.
Her mother, Margaret Clarke, reacts with cautious optimism. Darling, Im happy for you, but remember a man who once chased freedom never forgets it. Be careful.
Mom, not all men are the same. Victor is genuinely remorseful, Emma replies.
Three years of married life feel almost perfect. Victor acts like a model husband and dad, handling repairs, taking the kids on a beach holiday in Cornwall, and continuing to pay the courtordered child support, even offering to stop it a few times.
Dont stop the payments, Margaret warns. The childrens savings are a safety net.
Mom, youre too distrustful. Victor has proved hes reliable, Emma retorts.
Time will tell, Margaret says.
Just when Emma thinks life has finally settled, Victor declares another divorce.
What are you talking about? Emma gasps. You just promised to stay.
I thought Id changed, but family feels like a cage. Im an artist; I need space to create, Victor declares, furious.
Youre a manager at a construction firm, not a painter! Emma snaps.
My soul needs to soar. With you I become an ordinary bloke, Victor replies.
The second divorce hits Emma harder than the first. Now a seasoned woman, she still feels the sting of betrayal. When Victor comes to collect his things, Emma hurls his suitcase onto the stairs.
Get out and never come back! she shouts, her voice unrecognisable.
Dont cause a scene, neighbours will hear! Victor snarls, gathering his belongings.
Everyone will know how youve abandoned your children twice! Emma yells.
Victor tries to claim alimony, but loses in court. The children are once again left without a father, and Emma no longer hides her feelings.
Mum, will Dad ever live with us again? twelveyearold Connor asks.
No, love. He chose his freedom over us, Emma answers.
Is he a bad person? sevenyearold Sophie asks.
Hes not bad, sweetheart, just he cant keep his promises, Emma replies.
Six months later Michael returns, offering again.
Emma, stop suffering because of him. Marry me. Ive loved you for over ten years, he says.
Michael, not now, Emma snaps. I cant trust any man again. Youre all the same.
Its unfair, I never let you down, Michael protests.
Its only because you never have, Emma retorts. Victor left us for a lover named Valentina, then for Mariah. He uses us as a stopover between affairs.
How do you know that? Michael asks, stunned.
Were friends. He bragged about it, Emma says. He treats our home as a temporary shelter.
Dont lie, Michael whispers. Hes a scoundrel, but you shouldnt let him ruin your life.
Emmas mother, Margaret, sides with Michael. Emma, maybe hes right. Victor always returns when youre financially stable. Dont make the same mistake again.
Margaret, you know Michael loved me forever. Hell just tarnish Victors name, Emma protests.
Facts remain facts. Two departures, two returns. Is that love? Margaret asks.
I dont know anything about men any more, Emma admits.
Three years of solitude have given Emma perspective. Michaels prophecy that Victor would return resurfaces, and it proves true.
Whats different now? Victor asks, hoping for a softer reaction. Emma, life without you has no meaning. Youre the only woman Ive ever truly loved.
Interesting theory, Emma says, finishing her coffee. I thought you were with Mariah. Did she kick you out like Valentina did?
Victor freezes. He hadnt expected Emma to know his private affairs.
Never mind where it came from, Emma continues. The important thing is I now see the truth about your selfsearch. Victor, the kids are twelve and ten. Connor and Sophie manage fine without a father who shows up every few years with flowers.
Ill do anything! Victor says, pulling out his phone. Whatever you want, any condition.
A notification pops up: a transfer of £6,000.
This proves my seriousness, Victor declares. I want to restore the family, provide for the kids, make you happy.
Emma eyes the amount and laughs. Do you really think I can be bought? Im not waiting for you to stroll back with a wallet full of cash.
Youre still in love with me, then? Victor cries. Youre scared to trust anyone else!
Victor, youre a lovely man, but Ive already said yes to Michael. Hes a good, honest bloke, Emma says coolly. What does that matter to you?
Youre cheating with Michael? Victor shouts. Youve been carrying on with him while I was trying to find you!
Enough, Emma replies calmly. Youre no longer my husband. Leave my life.
Victors face twists with rage. Michael? That pathetic worm has loved you forever! So youve been having an affair while I suffered?
Stop, Emma says icy. Youre a man with three marriages. Valentina and Mariah were just your spiritual quests, werent they?
You dont understand! Victor yells. I was looking for you through them! I tried to forget, but I couldnt!
Thats romantic, Emma replies, sarcasm dripping. Youre just a saint in a desert, chasing love in other beds.
Realising hes cornered, Victor attempts another transfer, this time £5,000.
Thats all I have, even the loan money. Im giving you every penny because I believe we can start over, he says.
Emma checks the balance, nods. Thanks. This will go to the childrens tutoring. We needed that.
Victor smiles, thinking hes won. So you agree?
Ill take the money, Emma says, smiling. Now go. Never come back.
What?! Victor shouts, stunned. Youve given me half a million hryvnia converted to pounds! Ive handed over everything!
No one asked for it, love, Emma replies nonchalantly. That was your idea. Get out of my house.
Youre a liar! A golddigger! Victor yells.
Victor, you really thought you could buy love? At your age that naivety is almost endearing, Emma says softly.
At that moment Sophie walks in.
Mum, whos this? she asks, eyeing Victor.
This is your father, love, Emma answers.
Sophie rolls her eyes. Great, hes back pretending to be dad again?
Emma scolds her. Dont speak like that about dad.
Sophie starts to sob, furious. He left us twice! You worked nights to feed us, and now he strolls in as if nothing happened!
Emma comforts her. Sweetheart, calm down.
Connor, now twelve, appears in the hallway, his face as hard as his mothers.
Whats all this shouting? he asks, then sees Victor and turns stonecold. Right, dads back.
Connor, dont be rude, Emma urges.
Whats rude? Hes our dad, only when he shows up every few years, Connor snaps. Hes a periodic father.
Emma cuts him off. Enough, children.
Dont you dare say we hate him! Connor yells, fists clenched. We never forgot how you vanished when Mum was ill and we had no money for medicine! You were busy chasing selfdiscovery with aunties.
Victor looks bewildered. Mom was ill? I wasnt there?
You werent there then, Victor, Connor retorts. You were busy finding yourself in other womens arms.
Emma silences him. Victor, you have no right to demand our love. Weve survived without you.
Victor, humiliated, stalks out of the flat, his pockets empty, his pride crushed. The children hate him, Emma treats him like an intrusive beggar, and he has nowhere to stay.
The moment the door shuts, Sophie stops crying and smirks. Mum, how did I do? Im a good actress, arent I?
Emma laughs, then hugs her daughter. Youre a natural, love, but lets keep the drama to the stage.
Connor, seeing his mother and sister laughing, chuckles too.
Bravo, Sophie, Emma says. Just dont make a habit of it. Though it was convincing.
Im not acting, Connor declares seriously. I really hate him.
Sweetheart, hatred is a heavy burden, Emma replies gently. Better to let it go.
I want a cake today, Sophie asks. We have money now!
Pizza too! Connor adds. And cola, icecream!
And a new Harry Potter box set! Sophie exclaims. And a console game!
Emma watches her clever kids and smiles. Theyve grown smart and resilient despite everything. Perhaps its all because of them.
Alright, she says. Well have a little celebration today. The rest of the money well save for your education.
Will he ever come back? Connor asks seriously.
I doubt it, Emma answers. The lesson was pricey.
£6,000 for a lesson, Sophie giggles. The most expensive lesson of his life!
Probably the most useful one for us, Emma adds.
Meanwhile Victor wanders the streets, cursing his luck. He has no flat, sleeps in a rented room, relies on buses. All his savings and loan money the £6,000 he sent stay with Emma. He has only humiliation and the childrens hatred.
Damned Emma, he mutters on a crowded bus. Shes the last fool Ive tricked. Curse Valentina and Mariah for throwing me out, and that wretched Michael, probably still in my exVictor finally accepts that the only freedom he truly seeks is the quiet anonymity of a lonely park bench, where he watches strangers pass by, knowing his past will remain a cautionary tale whispered among the windblown leaves.
