The Shadow of Betrayal: Marina’s Path to Freedom
Marina dragged herself into her flat in Manchester after a long shift, dropping heavy grocery bags onto the kitchen counter. She changed into something comfy and noticed her husband wasn’t home. “Weird,” she muttered, frowning. “Where’s he gone off to this late? Stuck at work again?” Their son, Oliver, was visiting his aunt in the next town over. Marina cooked a quick pasta dinner, ate alone, then flopped onto the sofa and mindlessly scrolled through social media. A stranger’s profile popped up—a young, vibrant woman with a dazzling smile. Out of curiosity, Marina clicked, then gasped like she’d been punched in the gut.
“Finally made it!” Marina stumbled out of the taxi, her stomach still churning from the ride. She sipped lukewarm water from her bottle, trying to steady herself. She’d never handled travel well, and this cabbie seemed to think brakes were optional. “Mum, you alright?” Oliver, who adored cars just like his dad, eyed her nervously. “Fine, love, just a bit queasy. Give me a sec, then we’ll check into the hotel.”
This holiday hadn’t been planned. Marina had reached her limit—she couldn’t stand another day under the same roof as her husband. She’d picked up extra shifts, spent hours at the park with Oliver, anything to avoid him. Even glancing at their flat windows made her feel sick.
“Mum, look—slides! Can I go play?” Oliver tugged her hand. “Course, sweetheart. I’ll take our bags up.”
A bubbly woman with round cheeks bounded over. “Oh, new faces! What a lovely lad! I’ll keep an eye on him, and you can return the favor later! We all help each other here. Evening karaoke too—fancy joining? I do a mean rendition of *Sweet Caroline*! Fancy a go? I’m Lizzie, by the way!” she chirped.
Marina, still green around the gills, just wanted to collapse under the AC. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. Oliver’s fine on his own, and I’m not up for babysitting. Sorry, need to lie down,” she said flatly. Lizzie pursed her lips but wandered off. Marina wobbled to her room, cranked the AC, and drew the curtains. Alone at last. She closed her eyes, and the memories rushed back. When had James, the man she’d loved, become someone she couldn’t stand?
Maybe it started when he’d ditched helping with the bathroom reno to go to his mate’s. “Marina, Dave’s garage was a tip—had to sort it! Then he cracked open beers and fired up the grill!” he’d laughed while she scrubbed paint off three-year-old Oliver, who’d gotten into her supplies while she tiled.
Or when Oliver was four, crying with a nasty scrape from the playground. She’d called James in a panic, and he’d snapped, “Ring 999 or drive him yourself—stop wailing!” She’d held Oliver while the nurses cleaned the cut, whispering soothing words. Later, James glanced at it and shrugged, “It’ll heal.”
Marina dozed off until a knock jolted her awake. “Now what?” she groaned.
Lizzie stood there. “Forgot to mention—we do grocery runs! Need anything?”
“Already on first-name terms?” Marina thought wearily. But Lizzie seemed genuine, so she softened. “Thanks, but I’m knackered. Need a kip.” “No worries!” Lizzie beamed and dashed off.
Marina lay down, but before she could shut her eyes, Oliver burst in with a tearful eight-year-old girl. “Mum, help! Emily’s plaits came undone, and her mum said not to come back messy!” “Alright, love, come here,” Marina sighed, hastily redoing the girl’s hair. “There, off you go.” “Mum, you’re the best!” Oliver and Emily scampered away.
Sleep was hopeless. Marina tossed and turned, then stepped onto the balcony. The sea glittered as promised. A whiff of smoke made her cough. “Oh, bothering you?” A woman peeked over the divider. “Nah, just the breeze,” Marina waved. “I’m Sarah. Usually next door’s empty, so I smoke here.” “Marina. Here with my son.” “Me too—Emily!” “The one with the plaits?” Marina smirked. “Word travels fast!” Sarah laughed. “Why chat over a wall? Come down—I’ve got wine. Celebration?” “Why not?” Marina’s mood lifted.
Sarah, a brunette with a mischievous glint, had set up a makeshift picnic—grapes, plastic cups, a bottle of prosecco. “To new friends!” “Ooh, girls’ night? Can I join?” Lizzie appeared. “‘Course! Seaside rules!” Sarah poured her a glass.
Lizzie suddenly sniffled. “Girls, I can’t take it…” “What’s wrong?” they gasped.
“Came here with my husband, just us two. But his mum, Margaret, tagged along! She’s ex-headmistress—always organizing. Makes me host games nights! I just want to sunbathe, not entertain! I love my family, but I need a break too! She’s like, ‘Lizzie, be hospitable! You represent us!’ I hate my name now!”
Sarah and Marina exchanged looks. Each had their burdens. Sarah spoke first. “I’d kill for family. Emily’s dad? Blank space. He’s alive but has a new family. I was his secretary—he was midlife-crisis infatuated. When I got pregnant, he transferred cash and wrote, ‘This solves it.’ I quit but kept Emily. Tough, but no regrets.”
Silence hung. Marina finally said, “Two weeks ago, I found out my husband’s cheating.”
“What? You’re divorcing?” Lizzie gasped. “No… I haven’t told him.”
Marina still couldn’t believe she’d stayed quiet. It began that night she’d scrolled socials and spotted a stunning woman James had liked. Then she found their office party pics (wives “not invited”). Finally, she’d read their flirty texts while he slept.
No screaming matches. She’d weighed it—Oliver needed his dad, they had a mortgage, shared assets. James earned well; she couldn’t manage alone. But the secret was eating her alive. She’d barely eaten or slept. Hence this impromptue holiday—to figure things out.
James had been thrilled. “Good on you, Marina—relax for me. No holiday for me this year.” His indifference stung. She’d booked the next train out.
The women pondered this. Sarah finally broke the silence. “Enough moping—let’s fix this! Lizzie, your mum-in-law’s bored? Headmistress, you said? Introduce us!” “But what’ll I tell my husband? And the wine breath?” “What’s your room number?”
Half an hour later, Margaret joined them. She wasn’t the dragon Lizzie feared—just tired of her own bossiness. “Listen to these stories! Lizzie’s lucky to have me!” Sarah winked. “And my son’s lucky to have her!” Margaret chuckled.
Lizzie gaped. “What? I nag, but so did my mum-in-law. Tradition!” Margaret shrugged. “Oh, here’s Henry!”
Lizzie’s husband, searching for her and Margaret, froze at the scene. “Henry, girls’ night!” Margaret declared. “Take Emily and Oliver to the arcade. Feed them ice cream!”
By evening, they were thick as thieves. Wine and fatigue worked magic. Margaret turned to Marina. “Love, this isn’t living. He’s not worth it. Tell him you know. That’s his sin, not yours. The money? You’ll sort it.”
The week flew. Marina ignored James’s non-existent calls. Tanned and rested, she hugged her new friends goodbye, promising to visit.
At the taxi, Margaret whispered, “Decide, love. You can’t live like this.” Marina hugged her. “Already have. I’ll be free soon. Margaret… any single sons left?” “Might be!” Margaret cackled, and they dissolved into laughter.
