Right, so here’s how it went—right after my daughter finished school, I left my husband.
*”How heartless!”*
*”Poor bloke, how could she?”*
*”Took the daughter with her, what a snake!”*
Everyone in the village of Oakleigh felt sorry for abandoned Victor. Family, neighbours, mates—they all reckoned his wife had it made, living safe and sound, only to sneak off the moment their daughter finished school. Poor chap, left all alone at 55, abandoned by everyone! That’s what people said, but no one knew the truth. Behind this story were years of pain, betrayal, and just trying to survive.
Sophie married Victor for love. He was fifteen years older, but for her, he’d left his first wife and son, giving up half his property. At the start, he was the perfect husband—kind, strong, would do anything for her. But after their daughter Emily was born, everything changed. Buried in baby duties, Sophie didn’t notice at first how distant he’d become. He dumped all the chores on her, then stopped bringing money home altogether.
When Emily started nursery, Sophie went back to work to keep them afloat. Instead of helping, Victor turned their flat in Portsmouth into a proper den—mates crashing over, boozy nights while she was out grafting. She considered leaving, but fate dealt another blow. One of Victor’s mates fell asleep with a fag, and the flat burned to the ground.
Luckily, the neighbours were fine, but Sophie lost everything—home, belongings, any sense of safety. Standing in the ashes with little Emily in her arms, she didn’t know where to go. Part of her wanted to run, but for her daughter, she held it together. Borrowing cash from a neighbour, she got a cheap hotel room. She wasn’t worried about Victor—he’d always land on his feet.
Next morning, he found her. Grinning, he said he’d “sorted it”—they’d move in with his mum in Oakleigh. To Sophie, it sounded like a nightmare. She’d have to quit her job, pull Emily out of nursery, start from scratch. But she had no choice—no home, no money, a child to care for. She bit back tears, praying village life would sober him up, make him change. God, was she wrong.
In Oakleigh, things got worse. Her mother-in-law, sweet but blind to her son’s faults, never even scolded him. Victor drank harder, vanished for days with his mates, while Sophie juggled odd jobs—sewing, cleaning, selling at the market, saving every penny. The burnt flat sold for peanuts, and the money vanished on paperwork and bills. She swallowed the humiliation, stayed quiet, clinging to one thought: *Wait till Emily finishes school, then run.*
Those years were hell. Victor never worked, lived off his mum and Sophie, while she felt like a prisoner. She kept her escape plan secret, knowing he’d never let her go. The day Emily got her GCSE results, Sophie packed their things and left without a word. Victor noticed two days later—too drunk to care.
The village gossiped. Victor spun tales of Sophie betraying him, running off with some bloke, leaving “poor old him” high and dry. Neighbours and relatives slagged her off, called her a witch, pitied “poor Victor.” To them, she was the villain who wrecked their family. But Sophie didn’t care. She’d faked a happy marriage for Emily’s sake too long.
Emily didn’t blame her. She knew what her mum had endured. She saw Victor a few times, but once he stopped handing over cash, they drifted apart. Now, she wouldn’t even remember the way back to Oakleigh. She’s got Sophie’s back, knowing she saved them both from hell.
Sophie’s starting over—tiny flat, new job, making plans. For the first time in years, she breathes free. Let the village talk, let Victor spin his lies—she’s done. She survived, for Emily and herself. But deep down, the pain still smoulders: *How could someone I loved turn my life into this?* She doesn’t regret leaving. Still, sometimes she wonders—*Could it have been different?*
