“You’ve Lost It All, Roman”: How a Woman Left with Children Became the Master of Someone Else’s Future
For the first time in years, Chloe felt truly free. Taking a deep breath of the crisp Yorkshire air, she adjusted her shoulder bag and made her way toward the churchyard. The kids were staying with her Aunt Margaret—her late mother’s sister—while they were on holiday, giving Chloe a rare moment of quiet. She’d only come back for a few days: to visit her parents’ graves and see the woman who had been like a second mother to her.
But when she returned home, everything fell apart in an instant.
“Hand over the keys, Chloe,” Roman, her husband, said coldly, blocking the doorway. “This is it. Lillian’s pregnant. I’m starting fresh, and you—well, you’re free.”
“What…?” Chloe nearly dropped her bag. “Roman, how can you—?”
He didn’t even flinch.
“You knew this wasn’t forever. But don’t worry, it’s not like you’ve got anything anyway. The house is rented, the business is technically my uncle’s, the bank accounts are in your mum’s name. So let’s not make a scene. And if you cause trouble, I’ll take the kids.”
Once, Chloe had been the star of her university—a natural blonde with green eyes, poised, graceful, and sharp. She’d had plans, dreams. Her father, Geoffrey Harrison, had been a respected businessman. She’d imagined they’d start something together one day.
But in one year, she lost everything. First, her father passed, then her mother shortly after. She’d handed in her dissertation in a daze, barely aware of the pen in her hand. That’s when Roman first approached her and said, “Marry me. There’s nothing left for you here. We’ll start over.”
She hadn’t thought—she’d just said yes. They moved into a tiny flat her father had helped them buy, started working, and eventually launched a removal company together. Chloe even sold her parents’ house to invest in it.
At first, the business thrived, and everything was split evenly. Then came maternity leave, the kids, and bit by bit, everything was quietly transferred to Roman’s uncle. She hadn’t questioned it—the house was warm, the children healthy, life comfortable. It wasn’t until after their daughter was born that Chloe realised she hadn’t just lost her share—she’d lost herself.
She’d changed physically. Sleepless nights, endless laundry, and the grind of domestic life had taken their toll. Meanwhile, Roman had flourished—gym-toned, sun-kissed, his hair carefully styled.
“You’ve really let yourself go,” he’d sneered once. “It’s embarrassing being seen with you. At least get a facial.”
His mother never missed a chance to twist the knife either. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? My son’s a catch, and you—honestly, you look like his mother! You don’t deserve him!”
Chloe tried. She dieted, went to the doctor, did everything she could. But betrayal and exhaustion eroded her faster than any extra pounds.
And now he was tossing her out like yesterday’s takeaway. No shouting, no remorse. Her bag held just clothes and the children’s baby albums. No home, no savings, no stake in the business—not even stability. Just two kids her ex-husband was already threatening to take.
She went to Aunt Margaret, who said, “Leave the children with me. Pull yourself together first. I’ll help.”
And she did. She even suggested a business—a removal service. Margaret invested her savings, Chloe added what was left from selling the old flat. They started small—two vans, a couple of movers. Then things took off…
Five years later, Chloe had a franchise across the county, a dispatch team, her own garage. And Roman? Roman had nothing. Lillian had the baby, then divorced him, taking the flat. His uncle’s business wasn’t as profitable as claimed, and soon, Roman was out on his ear.
“You were never officially a partner,” his uncle said. “Just hired help.”
“Mum, say something!” Roman had shouted.
His mother just shrugged. “You had everything handed to you. You threw it away.”
The remnants of his “glamorous life” became a bunk in a dodgy hostel and odd jobs driving lorries. Then his health gave out, and he decided to apply as a driver… at the city’s biggest logistics firm.
He walked into the interview and saw… Chloe.
Sleek, polished, confident, in a sharp suit. She watched him calmly, even with a faint smile.
“Hello, Roman. Job hunting?”
“You look amazing,” he mumbled. “Maybe… take me on for old times’ sake? I know the routes, the city—I’ve got the experience.”
“We don’t hire deadbeat dads,” she said lightly. “You’ve got arrears.”
“I tried to pay!” he snapped. “Not in full, but I did what I could!”
“The kids are eighteen now, and you’re still ‘trying.’ We don’t need employees like you.”
His fists clenched. “You’re doing this to punish me?”
“No, Roman. I just learned to set boundaries. You did this to yourself. I rebuilt. Without you.”
“New husband help?”
Chloe laughed, standing. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, her figure as lithe as ever. But there was steel in her eyes now.
“No. I did it alone. After you, I couldn’t let anyone close for years. Thanks for that—it was great training.”
“Just… take me on,” he muttered. “I did love you once.”
The door swung open, and a tall, blond lad—Chloe’s double—leaned in.
“Mum, lunch? Everything alright?”
He shot Roman a frosty look.
“Leave. And don’t bother her, or we’ll have words.”
Roman froze. Then he spun on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door.
Outside, a drizzle slicked the pavement. Roman hung his head. He couldn’t pinpoint when it all went wrong. But deep down, he knew—it started the day he betrayed the one woman who’d once believed in him more than she believed in herself.
