I found myself slumped on the same edge of the bed where Id collapsed the night before. My eyes burned, my mouth was dry, and my head throbbed. My phone buzzed relentlessly, but I couldnt bring myself to answer. I knew who it was: Mum, my sister, maybe a friend. What could I even say? How do you put into words that the man youd built a life with had packed up and walked out in a single night?
I tiptoed to the kitchen. My son was still asleep. I boiled water for tea, but my hands shook so badly I slopped it over the mugs edge. I watched the liquid spread across the table, too numb to wipe it up. The silence around me wasnt peacefulit was the kind that follows disaster.
*Two months until the hearing.* His words echoed like a verdict, as if my future had already been decided without me.
I didnt go to work that day. I texted my boss: *Personal emergency. Back tomorrow.* There was no way I could explain more.
When my son woke up, he blinked at me with those big brown eyesso like his fathersand asked, *Mum, wheres Dad?*
The pain hit like a punch. I crouched down, ruffled his hair, and told him the first lie Id ever invented: *He had to go away for a bit. Well talk to him soon.*
I couldnt bring myself to tell the truth just then. I wanted to protect him, even if only for a few more days.
That evening, a message arrived: *Got here safely. Dont contact me. Well speak through solicitors.*
No questions about his son. No concern. Just cold words. I deleted it, but the letters burned behind my eyelids.
The days blurred into onedull, heavy. Mornings at work, afternoons home, helping my son with homework, smiling as if everything was fine. But at night, once he was asleep, Id crumple to the floor and cry silently.
Friends found out eventually. Some told me to forget him; others urged me to fight for what was mine. Mums voice was the steadiest: *Love, dont fall apart over a man who threw your heart away. Youre stronger than this. Youve got your boy. Hes your greatest treasure.*
I nodded, but inside, I was still in ruins.
The first real clash came at the solicitors office. He strode in confidently, freshly shaven, his suit smelling of expensive colognenext to him, the new woman: dark-haired, smug, dripping in gold and jewels.
My stomach twisted, but I straightened up. For my son, I couldnt let them see me waver.
*Well sell the flat and split the proceeds,* his solicitor announced, as if discussing a share portfolio, not the home where our son took his first steps.
*No. My boy needs stability. We stay. Take another asset, but the flat stays ours.*
He gave me an icy look. *You dont decide. The court does.*
Rage flared, but I swallowed it. *The court will hear our sons voice too.*
For a second, he faltered. He knew our boy loved himbut also felt his absence.
The case dragged on for months. I was exhausted, but I learned to stand firm. I worked, cared for my son, and rebuilt. One day, he brought home a school project. On the page, hed written: *The strongest person in my life is my mum.*
I sobbednot from pain this time, but gratitude.
In court, the judge turned to my son: *Who would you like to live with?*
He looked at me, then at his dad, and answered softly but clearly: *Mum. She never left me.*
It was like mountains tumbling off my shoulders. My exs face twitched; his smile collapsed.
Weeks later, the ruling came: the flat was ours. He got other assets. Full custody stayed with me.
Stepping out of the courthouse, I felt free for the first time in months. Rain fell, but every drop felt healing.
My son squeezed my hand and said, *Mum, lets go home.*
*Home.* Not a divided flat. Not a place where Id cried myself to sleep. *Our* home, just the two of us.
Then I understood: life wasnt over. It was only just beginning.
I might never again be the *”slim, cheerful, pretty”* woman he wanted. But Id be something far stronger: a mother. A woman who rebuilt from rubble and learned to shape her own future.
And no matter how hard hed tried to brand me with his toxic words*”no one wants a woman over thirty-five”*I knew he was wrong. Life opens up again, somewhere new, in a different light.
For the first time in ages, I smiledreally smiledand whispered to myself: *This wasnt the end. This was the start.*
