**Diary Entry**
I woke up on the same edge of the bed where Id collapsed the night before. My eyes burned, my mouth was dry, my head throbbed. My phone kept buzzing, but I couldnt bring myself to answer. I knew who it wasMum, my sister, maybe a friend. What could I have said to them? How could I put into words that the man Id built my life with had packed up and walked out in a single night?
I crept into the kitchen. My son was still asleep. I boiled water for tea, but my hands shook so badly I spilled it over the edge of the cup. I watched the liquid spread across the table, too numb to wipe it up. The silence around me wasnt peacefulit was the quiet of ruin.
*”Two months until the hearing.”* His words echoed in my head like a sentence. As if my future had already been decided without me.
I didnt go to work that day. I texted my boss: *”Personal matters. Back tomorrow.”* I couldnt bring myself to explain more.
When my son woke up, he looked at me with those big brown eyesso much like his fathersand asked, *”Mum, wheres Dad?”*
Pain twisted inside me. I bent down, smoothed his hair, and told him the first lie Id ever invented for him: *”He had to go away. Well talk to him later.”*
I couldnt tell him the truth then. I wanted to protect him, even if just for a few days.
That evening, the message came: *”Ive arrived. Dont contact me. Well speak through solicitors.”*
No questions about his son, no concern. Just cold words. I deleted it, but the letters burned behind my eyelids.
The days dragged on, dull and heavy. Mornings at work, afternoons home, helping my son with homework, smiling as if everything were fine. But at night, once he was asleep, I crumpled to the floor and wept silently.
Friends found out eventually. Some told me to forget him; others urged me to fight for what was mine. Mums voice was the strongest: *”Love, dont break over a man who threw your heart away. Youre strong. You have your boy. Hes your greatest treasure.”*
I nodded, but inside, I was still in ruins.
The first real confrontation came at the solicitors office. He walked in, confident, his suit crisp, smelling of colognebeside him, the new woman, dark-haired, grinning with gold and jewels.
My stomach clenched, but I straightened my back. For my son, I couldnt let them see me falter.
*”Well sell the house and split the proceeds,”* his solicitor said flatly, as if discussing a flat, not the home where our son took his first steps.
*”No. My boy needs stability. Were staying. Take other assets, but the house stays.”*
He looked at me coldly. *”You dont decide. The court does.”*
Rage flared, but I swallowed it. *”The court will hear our sons voice too.”*
For a second, he wavered. He knew our boy loved himbut he also knew hed left a hole.
The hearing dragged on for months. Exhaustion weighed on me, but I learned to stand firm. I worked, cared for my son, and rebuilt my life. One day, he brought home a school assignment. On the page, hed written: *”The strongest person in my life is my mum.”*
I sobbednot from pain this time, but gratitude.
In court, the judge turned to my son: *”Who do you want to live with?”*
He looked at me, then at his father, and answered slowly but surely: *”Mum. She never left me.”*
It felt like mountains lifting off my shoulders. My ex-husbands face twitched, his smile crumbling.
Weeks later, the ruling came: the house was ours. He got other assets. Full custody remained with me.
Stepping out of the courthouse, I felt free for the first time in months. Rain fell, but every drop felt like healing.
My son took my hand and said, *”Mum, lets go home.”*
*Home.* Not a divided flat, not a place where Id criedbut ours, just the two of us.
Then I understood: life wasnt over. It was only just beginning.
Maybe Id never again be the *”slim, cheerful, pretty”* woman hed wanted. But Id be something far strongera mother. A woman who built from ruins and learned to shape her own future.
No matter how hard he tried to brand me with his poisonous words*”No one wants a woman over thirty-five”*I knew he was wrong. Life opens up again, somewhere new, in a different light.
For the first time in ages, I smiledreally smiledand whispered to myself: *”This wasnt the end. It was the start.”*
