As soon as her daughter finished school, I fled from my husband.
—Heartless!
—Poor bloke, how could she?
—Took the girl with her, the snake!
Everyone in the village of Oakbrook pitied the abandoned Victor. Relatives, neighbours, friends—they all believed his wife had lived like a queen, only to betray him the moment their daughter left school. A wretched man of fifty-five, left all alone! That’s what they said, but no one knew the truth. Behind the whispers lay years of pain, betrayal, and a fight for survival.
Emily had married Victor for love. He was fifteen years older, but for her, he’d left his first wife and son, surrendering half his estate. In those early days, he seemed perfect—doting, strong, willing to move mountains for her. But after their daughter, Alice, was born, everything changed. Lost in caring for the baby, Emily didn’t notice Victor slipping away. He dumped every chore on her, then stopped bringing home money altogether.
When Alice started nursery, Emily went back to work to keep them afloat. Instead of helping, Victor turned their flat in Winchester into a den. He brought mates round for drunken gatherings while she slaved away. She considered divorce, but fate struck harder. One of Victor’s friends fell asleep with a cigarette, and the flat burned to ashes.
Miraculously, the neighbours were spared, but Emily lost everything: home, belongings, any sense of safety. That day, she stood in the charred ruins with little Alice in her arms, nowhere to go. She wanted to run, but for her daughter’s sake, she held on. Borrowing from a neighbour, she booked a hotel room. She wasn’t worried about Victor—she knew he’d land on his feet.
By morning, he’d found her. Grinning, he announced he’d “sorted it”—they’d move in with his mother in Oakbrook. To Emily, it sounded like hell. She’d have to quit her job, pull Alice out of nursery, start over. But with no home, no savings, and a child to care for, she agreed. Tears choked her, but she gritted her teeth, praying village life would sober Victor up. How wrong she was.
In Oakbrook, things only worsened. Her mother-in-law, kind but blindly devoted, never dared scold her son. Victor drank harder, vanished for days, while Emily carried the weight. She took any odd job—sewing, cleaning, market stalls—hoarding every penny. The burnt flat sold for scraps, the money swallowed by paperwork and essentials. She endured the shame, stayed silent, clinging to one thought: wait until Alice finished school, then run.
Those years were torment. Victor lived off his mother and wife while Emily felt like a prisoner. She hid her plans, knowing he’d never let her go. When Alice got her diploma, Emily packed their things and slipped away. Victor only noticed two days later—lost in another binge.
Oakbrook buzzed with gossip. Victor spun tales of betrayal, claiming Emily had fled to a lover, abandoning her “poor bloke” in his hour of need. Neighbours and kin branded her a monster, the homewrecker, while pitying “hapless” Victor. To them, she was evil incarnate. But Emily didn’t care. She’d faked happiness too long, keeping up appearances for Alice.
Alice never blamed her. She knew what her mother had endured. She met Victor a few times, but when he stopped giving her money, contact faded. Now, she can’t even recall the road to Oakbrook. She stands by Emily, knowing she saved them both from hell.
Emily’s starting over. A tiny flat, a new job, plans unfolding. For the first time in years, she breathes free. Let Oakbrook whisper. Let Victor spin lies. She’s done. She survived—for Alice, for herself. But deep down, pain lingers: how could the man she loved turn her life to ruins? She doesn’t regret escaping. Still, sometimes, she wonders—could it have been different?
