**A Break Under the Southern Sun: A Drama in Lakeshore**
Emily returned home from her holiday, her heart heavy with sorrow. Her husband, James, hadn’t written once the entire time. At the station in Lakeshore, no one was there to greet her… The house was dark, supper unmade, chaos reigning in every corner. “Probably spent all his time at his mum’s,” she thought bitterly as she reached for a second bag and began packing her things. That’s how James found her when he finally walked in.
“Back, then?” he muttered from the doorway. “Wasn’t expecting you. Had your fill of fun, did you? Think you can just waltz back in like nothing happened?”
Emily laughed—hollow, nearly hysterical. “Don’t worry, I won’t stay long,” she said, her voice trembling with restraint.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!” James frowned. Then it hit him…
“Jamie, how could you? We planned this holiday for ages!” Emily was on the verge of tears.
She’d dreamed of this trip all year. They’d scrimped and saved, chosen the perfect package, imagined lazy days on the beach.
“Not my fault, is it? Mum fell ill—had to stay,” James grumbled, avoiding her eyes.
“And when’s ‘later’? If she’d been hospitalised, fine. But it wasn’t serious!” Emily snapped.
“She had a fever yesterday! Called an ambulance!” James shot back.
“A mild one—gone after paracetamol. Jamie, this was a last-minute deal! If we don’t take it now, we’ll never get that price again!”
“Christ, you’re selfish! I said we’re not going. What if Mum takes a turn?” he barked.
“Funny, she’s got a daughter too. Couldn’t Lisa look after her?”
“You know Lisa’s busy. Drop it. We’ll go another time. Or just stay home—I promised Mum I’d help with the redecorating. You’ll pitch in too.”
He stormed off as if the matter were settled. Emily sobbed.
She hated her job but endured it for the money. Now even her holiday was being snatched away. She tolerated her boss’s jabs, worked overtime—all for warm seas and golden sand.
She’d wanted to quit, but James forbade it. “You earn well here.” They’d bought a car, renovated. His wages always vanished on his mother’s whims—repairs here, shopping there. Never enough!
Likely, she’d insisted they cancel. Used to everyone dancing attendance. Though who was “everyone”? Just her precious boy! James’s sister, Lisa, knew better than to argue. Easier to bully his wife than defy his mum…
Dreams of the sea slipped away. Emily pictured herself pasting wallpaper in her mother-in-law’s stuffy flat—and knew she couldn’t. She needed this break.
Half an hour later, she faced James squarely. “I’m going. With or without you.”
“What?! Gone mad, have you?”
“You’re the mad one! I waited for this like a miracle. You’re taking it away. Stay if you’re so worried—I’m going.”
“Who with?” he sneered.
“Alone.”
He smirked, then paced the kitchen, agitated. “I know why you really want this! Fancy a fling? Getting yourself in trouble?”
Emily bit her tongue, fury simmering.
“Silent? Because I’m right!”
“If you don’t trust me, come along,” she said coldly.
“Not leaving Mum.”
“Then don’t.”
She packed quietly the next morning. By afternoon, she returned with a ticket in hand.
James raged. “Don’t bother coming back! Useless wife!”
Emily boarded the train in tears—unaware this holiday would change everything.
At the resort, her troubles melted. Turquoise waves, blazing sun, delicious food—bliss. That first night, she texted James: *Arrived safe. Wish you were here.* No reply.
Fine. He could reach out first. But his silence was punishment for disobedience.
After one miserable day, she embraced solitude. Without James griping, she explored freely—sightseeing, swimming, strolling cobbled lanes.
And thinking. Rearranging her life. Clarity came with calm. She worked that dead-end job because James feared losing her salary. Yet she never enjoyed it—he controlled the spending.
This holiday? Her savings. Not a penny from him. And she lived with a man who didn’t cherish her. Convenient, wasn’t she? Obedient, breadwinning, housekeeping.
She was fit, stylish—while James, at twenty-eight, sported a beer belly. His mum? Never a “thank you” for Emily’s help. No, her golden boy deserved all credit.
Sipping a cocktail by the sea, Emily wondered: *Why?* What did this marriage give her? Disrespect and stress. Why endure it?
She’d thought she loved him. But here, away, she felt… nothing. No longing. Just dread of returning.
Still no word from James. A blessing, really.
At Lakeshore station, no one waited. The house was dark, supper unmade, chaos everywhere. James had been at his mum’s, then.
Emily didn’t unpack. She grabbed another bag.
“Back?” James loomed in the doorway. “Didn’t think you’d dare. Oh, you’ll grovel for this!”
She laughed—bitter, relieved. How kind of him to make this easy.
“Don’t fret. I’ll just take my things and go.”
“Go where?!”
His face twisted with fury. “Found some loser on holiday, did you?”
“No,” she said, zipping the bag. “Found myself. I’m leaving, Jamie. Divorce papers later.”
“I’m throwing you out!” he roared.
“Whatever helps you sleep,” she shrugged.
She left for her old flat—bought before marriage. James had begged her to sell it for something bigger. Instinct had made her refuse. Now, she blessed that choice.
He thought she’d crack. But when the divorce papers came, he panicked. Calls, pleas. Too late.
Emily started anew. Divorced, quit the job she loathed, and learned to love herself. Life’s too short to live for others while forgetting the most important person—you.
