In a sleepy village tucked between rolling hills and dense pine forests, where the autumn wind chased brittle leaves through cobbled lanes, life drifted by with quiet melancholy. At the foot of an ancient ridge, where the air carried the scent of woodsmoke and pine, lived Evelyn. Her days seemed flawless—beloved husband Gregory, their daughter Matilda, a grand flat in the city, and a cosy cottage in the countryside. Gregory called them “my constellations,” spoiling them as best he could. When Matilda was small, he woke at night so Evelyn could rest. Their home brimmed with warmth and laughter.
**A Shadow Over Bliss**
Gregory’s business thrived, money flowed freely, and Evelyn lacked for nothing. He insisted she needn’t work, and she happily devoted herself to Matilda and their home. They ambled through parks, bought fine dresses, and made their nest ever cosier. Yet sometimes, whispers slithered through the silence—anonymous voices murmuring, *”Your husband isn’t what he seems. There’s another woman. He pays for her flat, her whims.”* Evelyn dismissed it as envy. Gregory worked late, took business trips, but always returned showering them with such affection that doubt dissolved like morning mist.
**The World Unmade**
Years passed. Matilda turned sixteen when Evelyn’s life crumbled like a house of cards. Gregory died in a crash—his car skidded on black ice, slamming into a lorry. The real blow came later: he hadn’t been on business, but with his mistress in the next town. Neither survived. The truth Evelyn had denied for years crashed over her like an icy wave. The whispers had been right. Gregory lived a double life, and their entire world was a lie.
*”How didn’t I see?”* she whispered to the hollow air. *”He lied, he cheated, and I believed every word.”*
Sympathetic glances from colleagues at his mistress’s firm burned like embers. Everyone knew but her. Shame and grief tore her apart.
The solicitor read the will. Gregory left everything to Evelyn—the business, the flat, the cottage, savings. A separate fund waited for Matilda’s education abroad. But money brought no joy. Evelyn wanted neither wealth nor his empire. Her world turned grey; life felt empty. She didn’t want to live.
**Daughter’s Rebellion**
Matilda, once sweet, grew cold. She demanded, *now*, as if her mother owed her every whim.
*”Mum, I need the newest phone,”* Matilda declared. *”Don’t say the old one’s fine.”*
*”But Gregory gave you the latest before—”* Evelyn faltered, unable to say *”he died.”*
*”Never say no to me!”* Matilda shrieked. *”Dad did everything for me, and you hoard his business like a miser! He loved me, and you—”* She hurled her phone at the wall and locked herself away.
Evelyn sank onto the sofa, strength draining. *”What’s happened to her?”* she wondered. *”Where’s my girl who laughed with us?”*
**Awakening**
A year slipped by like fog. Then Gregory appeared in a dream—smiling, silent. Something clicked. *”I won’t rot here, gnawed by his betrayal,”* she decided. *”We studied business together. I know it as well as he did. Time to live.”* She tidied herself, got a sharp haircut, donned a sleek suit, and marched into the office.
Staff gawked, murmuring, *”Evelyn’s back… Will she sink or swim?”* But she seized control. Old partners, new clients—business bloomed. For the first time in years, Evelyn felt alive.
Only Matilda scoffed. *”You? Running a business?”* She laughed. *”You’ve been playing housewife. Sell it before you ruin us. Dressing up won’t make you young. Or are you hoping some gold-digger’ll fancy you now?”*
Evelyn swallowed the sting. *”Matilda, I’ll live as I choose. Focus on your exams.”*
**New Life**
Matilda left for university abroad. Evelyn dove into work, and the business flourished. She relished her independence, her success. Calls with Matilda stayed brittle; warnings about safety abroad met only sneers.
Renovating the cottage, she tasked her deputy Oliver to find builders. *”Quality work, no corners cut,”* she insisted. He vouched for foreman Anthony. *”Top reviews. Trustworthy.”*
At the cottage, Anthony listened as she outlined plans—a new fireplace, light interiors, underfloor heating. *”Sketches soon,”* he promised.
**Ghost from the Past**
Stopping at a café afterward, Evelyn glimpsed a familiar face—an old classmate, Daniel, once besotted with her.
*”Evelyn! You’re radiant,”* he said, pulling up a chair. *”How’s Gregory? His empire?”*
*”Gone. Both of them,”* she murmured. *”I run it now.”*
*”Sorry,”* Daniel said, grimacing. *”I’m divorced—stayed for the kids too long. Back in town, running a garage.”*
They talked for hours, exchanged numbers. That evening, he called: *”Dinner? Proper catch-up?”* Her pulse fluttered at his voice, his moss-green eyes.
He greeted her with snowdrops. *”In March?”* she laughed. *”There’s still frost!”*
*”Saw them by a granny’s fence. Remember picking them as kids?”*
Dinner flew by. Coffee at his place led to… Dawn found her waking to its aroma, Daniel smiling with a tray. *”Not letting you go now,”* he said. For the first time, Evelyn felt her heart stir again.
**Light and Shadows**
Daniel proposed. Evelyn hesitated, dreading Matilda’s wrath. Still, she invited her to the wedding. *”Fine. I’ll see this new bloke,”* Matilda grunted.
At the renovated cottage, Matilda eyed the master bedroom—white walls, blue drapes, a vast bed. *”Nice,”* she drawled, then smirked at Daniel. *”Wouldn’t mind testing this bed with you.”* Evelyn pretended not to hear, though her chest ached.
Later, while Evelyn was on the phone, Matilda whispered to Daniel, *”I called you Daddy. Offered to break the bed in. Shame you chickened out.”* Her laugh rang cruel.
Matilda left two days later. *”Nothing ties me here. Wire my allowance; I’m staying abroad.”*
Now Evelyn and Daniel share the cottage, content in their work and love. She refused to quit the business, despite his teasing. Love revived her; she won’t lose it again. Matilda calls seldom, but Evelyn clings to hope: one day, her daughter will learn what true happiness means.
