Half the house is yours, but good luck living there!her ex-husband had moved a hardened criminal in next door
Emily Carter hunched as she stepped out of the courtroomas if her soul had been left behind on those cold benches, among the dry legal jargon and indifferent stares. She looked like a shadow of herself, as though life had erased her like an unnecessary word from a sentence. Her grey coat, crumpled and carelessly draped over her shoulders, nearly slid off, as if even fabric refused to stay loyal. Her hair, once neatly styled, now tangled into a heavy cloud over her forehead. Her arms hung limp, but onethin, paleclutched her sons small hand like it was the only tether to reality.
Mum whispered Liam, hiding his face against her sleeve as if he already knew: she couldnt protect them both now.
Emily couldnt lift her gaze. It was over. Everythinggone, as if it had never existed. James had done this. Hed shattered their family, taken nearly everything, smeared her name, even convinced their son she was to blame. Bitterness rose in her throat, her breath catching as memory betrayed her: three months ago, their kitchen, the scent of another womans perfumetoo sharp, too expensiveand Jamess laughter, just like before, but not for her anymore. She remembered how hed said it so casually, as if discussing the weather:
Dont even think of making a scene. It wont end well for you.
Now, in the bustling corridor of the county court, people rushed past. Someone chewed gum; another rummaged through a briefcase for lost papers. No one saw her pain. No one knew the hollowness inside. They were all too busy with their own lives. Hers had just collapsed like a house of cards. She squeezed Liams handher only anchor. Survive now. The rest would come later.
Outside the house theyd once shared, Emily hesitated for the first time in years. Their belongings sat in pitiful piles on the concrete step: a suitcase with a faded green stripe, a bag of toys, a box labeled Documents. Dust coated everything; light rain had streaked dark stains down the sides. Liam pressed into her side:
Mum, are we going home?
Emily wiped his nose with her scarf, forcing a smile despite trembling lips:
Homes wherever we are together.
She lifted the box, wheeled the heavy suitcase behind her. Behind that door was the pastclosed forever, like a theatre curtain after the final act.
She called her friend Charlotte. The woman answered in a robe, the flat smelling of coffee and vanilla. Charlotte hugged Emily tightly, then cautiously pulled Liam close:
Stay with me for now. Just rest.
Charlottes children were already asleep. Over pasta, her friend kept catching Emilys gazethen looking away. The air thickened with discomfort.
Im sorry Charlotte finally murmured. James he spoke to me too. He hinted youd had problems. With the law. With substances. Warned me to be careful.
Emilys breath hitched. Even here, in this home where theyd once laughed, where framed photos still hung, she felt like an outsider. Liam wolfed down his food as if afraid hed be sent away.
Days later, Charlotte approached, uneasy:
Im scared for my kids. James has told everyone. Someone even slipped me medical records about you.
What records?
Saying youre a risk. I know its lies, but how do I stop the rumours? The schools already asking about you.
The warm house had become a cage. Emily packed hurriedly, heart pounding. Liam sniffled:
I want my teddy. Why didnt Dad let me take him?
Dads busy, sweetheart, she soothed.
That night, they slept at a bus stop under an orange streetlamp. Road dust, trampled grass beneath them. Liam dozed against her knee. Emily stared at the starless sky.
A decision settled in her:
Were going to the cottage, love. Remember our place in the village? Where we picked berries last winter.
The night stretched endless, the road ahead holding only a fragile hope and an old house at the end of forgotten paths.
The cottage greeted them with overgrown nettles and timeworn neglect. The fence sagged like a weary sentry. An apple tree shed crimson leaves onto untouched ground. Emily lifted her collar, inhaling damp earth and woodsmokea strange, prickling comfort.
Mum, how long are we staying? Liam asked, stomping on the wet doorstep.
As long as it takes, darling. Weve got work to do.
They washed windows firstLiam drew silly faces in the soap, and Emily laughed, realizing it was the first time in months she hadnt cried.
Help me clear the path? she asked. Liam eagerly brought an old trowel, and together they cleared fallen branches.
Exhausted, she tucked him into the creaky bed. The dim lamp softened the room. Liam curled into her:
Mum, are we going back to Dad?
Emily held him tight, steadying her voice:
Its just us now, Liam. Well be okay.
Late that night, she opened her laptop. Her fingers hoveredshe wanted to disappear, to stop being this broken version of herself.
Finally, she typed:
Mr. Thompson, apologies for the delay. Personal circumstances require me to leave town temporarily. Any chance of remote work?
The reply came by morning.
Emily, her boss said evenly, Im aware of the situation. Lets trial remote work. Just stay steady, alright? Two months to start. Well manage.
A lifeline. Small, but real.
Days passed in a blur of documents and quiet tears. At night, Liam brought her tea or clumsy clay figures:
Dont be sad, Mum.
Then the notice arrived: court in a week. Emily swallowed a scream.
The second hearing was worse. James stormed inhaggard but vicious. He shouted before even sitting, slamming folders onto the table.
Your Honour, she lied for years! Hid assets!
Emily stared at the wall. The judgea weary man in his fiftiesraised a brow:
Proof, Mr. Whitmore?
James waved papers, dropped some. His lawyer smirked.
When Emily tried to speak, the judge cut in:
Youll have your turn.
The verdict came raspy and final:
Half the cottage is awarded to Ms. Carter. No further claims permitted.
James shoved his hands in his pockets, snarling on the steps outside:
Hope you like your new neighbour.
Emily met his gaze, icy calm:
Glad its over.
But inside, she was hollow.
Three days later, at dusk, a knock rattled the door. A man stood theretall, rough-edged, his jacket worn like second skin. Faded tattoos peeked from his sleeves. No smile, no threat. Just quiet.
Evening. Rented the other half from your ex.
Emily stiffened, pulling Liam closer.
IIve got a child. I hope thats not a problem.
The man nodded.
Daniel Harper. Wont be in your way.
That night, she barely slept, checking locks, holding Liam tight. Fear coiled in her chest.
But Daniel kept to himselfuntil one afternoon, when laughter rang out. Liam was kicking a ball with neighbourhood kids, Daniel among them, grinning as he dodged.
Later, on the porch, he spoke softly:
Not scared, are you? I dont bite.
He admitted his pastprison, a fight defending his ex-wife. No excuses. Just truth.
Emilys guard eased. There was no malice in him.
Spring came. Daniel helped clear the garden, taught Liam to hammer nails (Not your fingers, lad). One evening, she invited him to dinner.
Awkward at first, but soon meals became routine. Laughter returned. Liam adored Uncle Dan, bringing him drawings, chattering about school.
One night, Daniel sat silent on the steps.
You deserve better than my baggage, he finally said.
Emilys voice barely held:
We want you here. Familys who you choose.
A year later, Emily strode into Jamess office, tossing a folder onto his desk.
Whats this? he sneered.
Buyout for your half. I can afford it now. Ive got a family.
James scoffed.
What family?
She smiled, free for the first time.
Youll see.
The next day, James drove to the cottagenow vibrant, flowers blooming, fresh paint gleaming. On the patio: Emily, Liam, and Daniel, grinning as he built a new shed.
James called to Liam, but the boy clung to Daniel, who leveled a stare.
Leave.
James retreated, vanishing like dust in the wind.
That night, Emily kissed Liams forehead, then rested a hand on her rounded belly.
