Margaret Thompson carefully took her daughter’s wedding dress from the closet and traced her fingers over the ivory satin. Tears pricked her eyes. Eleanor had returned home only three months after the grand celebration—without her husband, smile, or hope.
“Mum, may I stay here for a while?” Ellie asked, her voice trembling as she stood in the doorway of the family home, a couple of suitcases in her hands.
Margaret silently embraced her daughter, helping her carry the luggage inside. Questions could wait. She knew something had shattered in her only child’s life.
Now, as Ellie left for work, Margaret couldn’t help but recall the memories. Everything had started so beautifully.
Ellie had met James at a New Year’s office party. A friend invited her to avoid spending the holiday alone. Though hesitant, she agreed.
The tall, dark-haired man with kind brown eyes swept her off her feet. He courted her gracefully, brought flowers, and planned romantic dinners. Not long after, at a restaurant, James got down on one knee, a velvet box in hand.
“Ellie, will you marry me?” he asked earnestly.
Shy yet overwhelmed, Ellie smiled. She hadn’t expected the proposal—though she’d dreamed of it. As the room quieted, she whispered, “Yes.”
The wedding preparations began in a whirlwind. James insisted on a lavish celebration.
“Love, a wedding is once in a lifetime. I want everything to be perfect,” he urged passionately.
Ellie would have preferred a quiet affair but yielded to his wishes. He booked a high-end venue, invited dozens of his friends and colleagues—many of whom Ellie barely knew.
Margaret sighed as she remembered their kitchen conversation.
“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re rushing this? You two haven’t known each other long,” she’d gently asked.
“Mum, I’m twenty-seven. How much longer should I wait? James is thoughtful, attentive. He’s the best partner I could ever hope for,” Ellie had replied, radiant with joy.
Now, her daughter had returned with a hollow gaze. What had gone wrong?
After the wedding, James moved into Ellie’s one-bedroom flat, claiming her place was better than his rented apartment.
“Love, I’ve been saving for our future home. We can be cozy now and splurge later,” he’d said, kissing her temple.
Ellie didn’t want to argue about money at the start of their marriage, so she agreed. But soon, she discovered James had lost his job before the wedding.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she’d asked, stunned, after a mutual acquaintance mentioned it.
“I didn’t want to sour your day,” he shrugged. “I’m actively looking for new work. Don’t worry.”
Weeks passed, yet James stayed idle—sleeping in, scrolling online, and meeting friends in the evenings. Ellie worked as an accountant, rising early and returning late. She took care of all household duties.
“James, why don’t you start temp work while you search?” she suggested.
“Do you want your husband to work as a delivery driver or porter?” he scoffed. “I have a degree and experience. I won’t stoop to that.”
One day, Ellie returned home early and spotted a silhouette in the window. Upstairs, she heard muffled voices. With her key, she opened the door to find the flat filled with rowdy friends, empty bottles, and loud music.
“Ellie! We just had a few drinks with the lads,” James said, trying to pull her close.
He smelled of alcohol. She took in the mess, the dirty dishes, and disappeared into the bathroom. Locking the door, she wept. What had she done to her life?
The next morning, as the guests left and James slept, Ellie found her mother’s birthday earrings missing. She woke him.
“Where are my earrings?” she asked sharply.
“What earrings?” he mumbled sleepily.
“Mom’s gift. The gold ones in the box.”
James scowled. “Oh, those. I borrowed them. I needed cash for a loan with a jeweller. I’d return them soon.”
“You *stole* my earrings?” Ellie gasped.
“I *pawned* them,” he snapped. “We need money! It was only a loan.”
“And where’s the loan money?” she pressed.
He turned away. “Had drinks with the lads. It’s not a big deal.”
Ellie sank onto a chair. Her partner had sold their heirloom for alcohol. She’d saved for months to buy a new couch.
The problems spiraled. James revealed hidden debts, which Ellie now had to cover. He blamed her for overworking and hinted she should earn more.
“James, this can’t go on,” she said one day. “We need to talk.”
“Talk about what?” he mumbled, distracted by his phone.
“Our lives. I work from dawn to dusk, pay the rent, buy groceries, while you—”
“Finish your sentence,” he growled, his tone threatening.
“You don’t even try to improve our life,” she whispered.
James slammed down. “You dare accuse me of being lazy? I shouldn’t have to work for peanuts! And what am I, your husband or a servant?”
Their arguments intensified. Ellie began staying late at work to avoid him. She realized she’d married a facade—a man who’d hid his indolence and irresponsibility.
One evening, he exploded over something trivial: she’d forgotten to buy his favorite fruit juice.
“I don’t matter to her at all!” he roared, pounding the table. “All I ask is forgotten!”
“I’ll remember next time,” Ellie said quietly, a chill creeping up her spine. She’d never seen him so furious.
His calm returned when a friend called, and he stepped onto the balcony, smiling.
By now, Ellie noticed her funds disappearing faster. Checking her account, she found a charge from a late-night club on the night he’d supposedly stayed at a friend’s.
“Why are you spying on me?” he snapped when she confronted him.
“On whose money?” she asked.
“Does it matter? We’re a family—everything is shared!”
Ellie’s resolve crumbled. The final straw came when she discovered her mother’s ruby ring—her family’s heirloom—was missing. Confronting James, he claimed a friend had urgently needed cash.
“I’ll return it, I promise,” he insisted.
Ellie returned the next day to find the flat ransacked. Electronics, jewelry, even clothes were gone. James had vanished, taking whatever he could sell.
That night, Ellie finally broke down in her mother’s arms.
“I was so wrong, Mum,” she cried. “Why didn’t I listen when you said to wait?”
Margaret held her close. “Everything will be okay, love. You’ll find happiness again. I know you will.”
Three weeks later, Ellie filed for divorce. James didn’t attend the court hearing—rumors said he’d fled to another town. She now carried his debts, forged documents, and the guilt of trusting too soon.
One evening, as Ellie sipped tea with her mother, Margaret said gently, “A wedding is just a day. Real happiness takes years—and a partner who earns it.”
Ellie smiled faintly. “I’ve learned. Better to be alone than with someone who breaks your heart.”
She began rebuilding her life. Extra shifts paid off debts. Evening courses boosted her skills. Weekends were spent in parks or catching up with old friends.
One day, sorting through photos, she found a wedding picture. There she was, radiant in white, beside James’s beaming face. She’d believed in fairy tales then. Now, she tore the picture apart.
It was a symbol. Not just of a marriage, but of illusions—of expecting instant joy from a single day. True happiness, she realized, was built brick by brick, beginning with oneself.
That night, for the first time in months, Ellie slept with a light heart. She didn’t know what the future held, but she’d vowed never to settle for less than she deserved.
For happiness, she’d learned, wasn’t written in a passport or stitched into a white dress. It was a quiet strength, a choice to rise again every day—and that was something no one could take from her.
