**After the Honeymoon – A Bitter Truth and a New Beginning**
Sophie and Oliver had just returned from their honeymoon in sunny Portugal. She curled up on the sofa and called toward the bathroom:
“Which film should we watch?”
“I don’t know, you pick!” came her husband’s muffled reply.
Sophie turned on his laptop and glanced absently at their unpacked suitcases in the hallway. *I’ll sort them tomorrow*, she muttered, shifting her gaze—just as a notification chimed. A message flashed on the screen. She clicked—and froze.
*”I miss you, love,”* wrote a stranger named Emily.
*”Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon,”* Oliver had replied.
The date? The eighth of August. The day *before* they’d come home. Sophie opened the chat, holding her breath as she read: *”Emily, last night was magical…”* *”Are you coming over today?”* *”Yes, sweetheart, I’ve missed you so much…”*
She slammed the laptop shut. Seconds later, Oliver stepped out of the bathroom.
“So, found a film? Maybe a comedy?”
“Oh yes… the comedy’s about to begin,” Sophie said coldly. “Who’s Emily?”
He paled.
“W-what Emily? I don’t know any Emily!”
“Really? Then take a look!” She hurled the laptop onto his lap. “We just got back, and you’ve already been sneaking around?”
“Wait… It didn’t mean anything! We had drinks at a work do, she came onto me… It was a mistake! I love you!”
“A mistake? Marrying *you* was the mistake!” Sophie stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
In the taxi, she stared blankly out the window, tears streaming down her cheeks. *How could this be happening to me?*
At her parents’ house, her mother greeted her with concern.
“Darling, what’s wrong?”
“I’m filing for divorce. I won’t live with a cheat!”
“Hush, love… Come inside. Let’s talk.”
A week passed. Her mother urged her to stay.
“Why rent a flat? Live with us as long as you like.”
“Mum, I’m thirty. I need my own space.”
She spent two days flat-hunting. Yesterday, she’d filed the papers. Oliver still called, sent flowers—no reply.
A month later, Sophie was settled in her new place. Two weeks without tears. She buried herself in work—but weekends were hardest, loneliness pressing in.
One evening, she mindlessly flicked through TV channels, ice cream in hand, drowning in apathy. Then—a sudden decision.
*Enough of this.* She stepped outside.
The park was warm and quiet—lamplight, rustling trees, couples holding hands. But as dusk fell, she realised she was lost. Footsteps approached from behind. She quickened her pace.
“Excuse me—” a voice called.
She broke into a run, tripped—and strong hands caught her.
“You alright? Didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Jack.”
He stepped back, showed empty pockets.
“I live nearby. Saw you circling the paths…”
Sophie stayed tense, but his warm smile softened her.
“I just can’t find the way out,” she admitted.
“Mind if I walk you?”
The stroll flew by—Jack cracked jokes, told stories, made her laugh. At her door, they hesitated.
“Goodnight, Sophie.”
“Goodnight, Jack.”
He grinned. “Should I wait till you’re inside? In case you get lost again.”
Next morning, still replaying it, she headed out for coffee—and froze. There was Jack, leaning in his doorway with two takeaway cups.
“Sleeping Beauty’s awake! Fancy coffee?”
“You—what are you *doing* here?”
“Living here. Been your neighbour for weeks. Saw you a few times but never got the chance to say hi.”
She faltered. He flashed a smile.
“Well? Coffee?”
“I’m not sure…”
“What if I’ve got biscuits?”
“…Maybe.”
Her phone rang.
“Yes, Mum… No, I haven’t changed my mind. I’m staying. I like it here.”
And for the first time in months, Sophie felt warmth—real warmth.
—
*Sometimes the worst endings lead to the best beginnings.*
