Fifty thousand, Simon. Fifty. On top of the thirty thousand for child support.
Caroline threw her phone onto the kitchen table, hard enough that it skidded across the surface and nearly crashed onto the floor. Simon managed to catch it just at the edge, and that only made her angrier.
Emily needed trainers and a kit for football club, Simon placed the phone screen down as though hiding evidence. Shes growing, Caro. Kids always grow.
Trainers that cost fifty grand? Is she trying out for Team GB now?
There was a rucksack too. And a coat. Autumns coming.
Caroline turned away, unable to look at her husband right now. She already knew about these transfers. Every month. Like clockwork. Always the same reason: son, responsibility, fatherhood. Nice words, hiding very specific numbers, draining their joint budget into someone elses account.
I do love him, Simon said, stepping closer, stopping a pace behind her. Hes my son. I cant just…
Did I ask you to abandon your child? All Im saying is, why spend so much on top of child support? Thirty thousand a month isnt that enough? Doesnt Sarah work?
She does.
So whats the problem?
Simon stayed silent. Caroline knew that silence too well it meant he didnt have an answer. Just a habit of agreeing, helping, being reasonable. Always the good ex, the good dad, the good guy. At their expense.
She turned, leaning against the sink.
I keep track, you know? In my head. How much goes out every month. Want the annual figure?
Not really.
Nearly six hundred thousand. And thats without todays fifty grand.
Simon rubbed his temple. Another familiar gesture that said lets drop it. But Caroline couldnt stay quiet anymore. Shed spent too long pretending to be the understanding wife.
We had holiday plans. Remember? You promised November, seaside, two weeks. So wheres that money now?
Caro, I get it. But Sarah rang, she said it was urgent…
Sarah. Always Sarah. Theres always something urgent with her.
Simon sat down on the kitchen stool, his elbows on his knees, and suddenly Caroline saw just how tired he looked. Proper tired, not from work, but from the endless tug of war between two households. For a moment she almost pitied him, but she crushed that feeling instantly.
She wants to buy a flat, Simon said without looking up. So Emily can have her own room.
Wait. What flat?
A bigger one. Theyre squeezed into a one-bed, you know. Its cramped.
Its cramped but whos going to pay?
He finally met her eyes, an apologetic flicker crossing his face. Caroline felt cold.
Dont tell me…
She asked for help with the deposit. Im only thinking about it for now.
Thinking? Simon, thats… thats a huge amount! Where will you get it?
Weve saved some. For the car.
WE saved it! For our car! For OUR family!
Carolines voice broke into a shout; she clamped her hand over her mouth, as if she could force the words back inside. Pointless they were out there, hanging between them.
Simon stood, walked to the window, shoved his hands in his pockets.
Emily is my family too. I cant just pretend shes not there.
No one’s asking you to! But you pay child support by law, properly. Everything else is your generosity. And mine, actually. Because its our shared money.
I know.
But it doesnt stop you.
The flat fell silent. A neighbours TV murmured through the wall, a background chorus of laughter and voices from some sitcom. Ridiculous backdrop for their argument.
Caroline sat in her usual spot at the table, smoothing out the tablecloth. Inside, she burned with hurt, anger, confusion. Still, she kept her tone even.
How much is she asking for?
Two hundred thousand for the deposit.
The number just hung in the air. Caroline let out a short, bitter laugh.
Two hundred thousand. That’s everything we have.
I know.
And youre seriously thinking of giving it all to her?
Its for my daughter.
Im against it. Thats my money too, lest youve forgotten.
He didnt answer. There was nothing left to say.
A week later, Caroline opened her banking app to check if her salary had come in. She scrolled to the savings account the one theyd been building for three years.
Balance: forty-seven thousand five hundred and two pounds.
She blinked. Reloaded the app. Checked once more.
Forty-seven thousand instead of two hundred thousand.
Her phone slipped through her fingers and thudded onto the carpet.
Caroline stood in the middle of the living room, unable to move. Two hundred thousand pounds. Three years scrimping, no holidays, calculating each big purchase. And now forty-seven thousand. The leftover scraps of their future.
She picked up her phone, checked the transactions. Transfer to Sarah Anne Collins.
He hadnt even tried to hide it.
Simon was on the sofa, tapping away at his laptop, when she stormed in. He glanced up, tried a smile which froze when he saw her face.
You drained all our savings for your ex?
Her voice turned to a screech, and she didnt care. Let the neighbours hear, let the whole block know.
Caro, wait, I can explain…
Explain?! Two hundred thousand, Simon! Two! Those were our savings!
He shut his laptop, stood up slowly. In his eyes, no guilt only stubbornness.
Its for Emily. She needs a proper room, proper life. Im her dad, I owe her that…
You owe your family! Me! Not the woman you divorced four years ago!
Shes the mother of my child.
And who am I?!
Youre my wife. I love you. But Emily…
Stop hiding behind Emily! Caroline stepped closer, and Simon instinctively backed off. You bought a flat for Sarah. Not for your daughter for her! The flats in her name, right? Shell live there, shell own it, and if she wants, she’ll sell it for herself. What does Emily have to do with it really?
Simon opened and closed his mouth. Nothing to say. Of course there wasnt because she was right, and he knew it.
You still love her, Carolines words were barely a whisper. Thats it, isn’t it? Not about Emily. You just cant refuse her. Never could.
Thats not true.
Then why? Why didnt you ask me? Why decide for both of us?
Simon reached for her:
Caro, please. Lets just talk, calmly. I know youre upset, but this is for my daughter…
Caroline pulled away from his touch.
Dont touch me.
Those three words threw up a wall between them. Simon stood frozen, hands outstretched, finally registering what hed done. Far too late.
I cant do this, Caroline brushed past him into the bedroom, grabbed a holdall. I cant live with someone who makes choices behind my back. Who lies. Who…
I never lied!
You never told. Thats the same.
She threw the essentials into her bag underwear, documents, a charger. Simon lingered in the doorway as his life slipped away.
Where are you going?
My mums.
For long?
Caroline zipped the holdall, slung it over her shoulder. She looked at him this grown man with lost eyes, still not understanding.
I dont know, Simon. I really dont.
Three days at her mothers passed strangely. The first, Caroline lay on the sofa staring at the ceiling. Her mum brought her tea, didnt ask questions, just stroked her hair like she used to as a child. Day two, the anger arrived sharp, clean, liberating. Day three brought clarity.
She called a solicitor friend.
I want a divorce. Yes, Im sure. No, no going back.
Simon rang every day. Texted long, rambling messages, full of explanations and apologies. Caroline read them but didnt reply. There was nothing left to say. Hed made his choice now she was making hers.
A month later, Caroline moved into a rented one-bed on the other side of town. Tiny, overlooking the railway, but hers alone. She chose the curtains herself, arranged the furniture, spent her own money as she pleased.
The divorce was sorted quickly Simon didnt contest, signed everything without fuss. Maybe he hoped shed change her mind. She didnt.
Sometimes in the evenings, Caroline would sit at her window and wonder at the strangeness of life. Three years ago she’d thought shed found her person. Tonight, she was alone in her empty flat and oddly, that didnt scare her.
She opened her notebook, wrote a single word: zero. The starting line. Next to it: a plan for the month, six months, the year. What to save, where to invest, which courses shed take for work.
For the first time in a long while, the future depended on her and her alone.
