As soon as our daughter finished school, I left my husband.
— What a disgrace!
— Poor bloke, how could she?
— Took the daughter too, the snake!
Everyone in the village of Pinebrook pitied poor Victor. Relatives, neighbours, friends—they all believed his wife had lived a sheltered life, only to betray him the moment their girl finished school. Left alone at 55, abandoned by all! That’s what people said, but no one knew the truth. Behind this story lay years of pain, betrayal, and a fight for survival.
Emily married Victor for love. He was fifteen years older but left his first wife and son for her, giving up half his assets. At first, he seemed perfect—attentive, strong, devoted. But after their daughter, Lily, was born, everything changed. Busy with the baby, Emily didn’t notice Victor pulling away. He dumped all the chores on her and soon stopped contributing to the household.
When Lily started nursery, Emily went back to work to support them. Instead of helping, Victor turned their flat in Wellingford into a den. He brought mates over for boozy nights while she worked. She considered divorce, but fate dealt another blow. One of Victor’s mates fell asleep with a cigarette, and their home burned to the ground.
Luckily, the fire didn’t spread, but Emily lost everything—their home, their belongings, any sense of safety. That day, she stood in the ashes with little Lily in her arms, not knowing where to go. She wanted to run, but for her daughter’s sake, she held on. Borrowing money from a neighbour, she rented a hotel room. She didn’t worry about Victor—she knew he’d land on his feet.
The next morning, Victor found her. With a smirk, he announced he’d “sorted it”—they’d move to his mum’s in Pinebrook. To Emily, it sounded like hell. She’d have to quit her job, pull Lily out of nursery, start over. But with no home, no money, and a child to care for, she agreed. Tears choked her, but she clenched her teeth, hoping village life would change Victor—that he’d sober up. How wrong she was.
In Pinebrook, things got worse. Her mother-in-law, kind but blindly doting, never dared criticise her son. Victor drank more, vanished with his mates, leaving Emily to shoulder everything. She took odd jobs—sewing, cleaning, selling at the market—hoarding every penny. The charred flat was sold dirt-cheap, and the money vanished into bills and basics. She endured the humiliation, silent, clinging to one thought: wait until Lily finished school, then escape.
Those years were hell. Victor didn’t work, living off his mum and Emily, who felt like a prisoner. She hid her plans, knowing he’d never let her go. When Lily got her diploma, Emily packed their things and slipped away to the city. Victor noticed they were gone two days later—he was on another binge.
The village gossiped. Victor spun tales of betrayal, claiming Emily had run off with another man, abandoning him in his hour of need. Neighbours and family called her names, painted her as the villain, pitied “poor” Victor. To them, she was the homewrecker. But Emily didn’t care. She’d faked happiness too long, keeping up appearances for Lily’s sake.
Lily didn’t blame her. She knew what her mother had endured. She met Victor a few times, but when he stopped giving her money, the visits dried up. Now, she doesn’t even think of Pinebrook. She stands by her mum, knowing she saved them both from hell.
Emily’s starting over—renting a tiny flat, finding work, making plans. For the first time in years, she feels free. Let the village whisper. Let Victor spin tales. She doesn’t care. She survived for her daughter and herself. But the hurt lingers: how could the man she loved turn her life into a nightmare? She doesn’t regret leaving—but sometimes wonders if things could’ve been different.
