My friend Emily, who’s also my goddaughter, has finally left her husband Victor, and I couldn’t be happier for her. That Victor was something else—never earned a penny, spent his days throwing his weight around and chasing anything in a skirt. Then, just a few days ago, Emily calls me, glowing with excitement, bragging about her trip to the Cotswolds with her new beau, James. I nearly choked on my tea when I heard. Who’d have thought she’d turn her life around so fast! But honestly, I’m over the moon for her—after everything she’s been through, she deserves this happiness.
Emily and Victor were together for nearly ten years, and all that time I’d watch her and think, “When are you finally going to kick him to the curb?” He was one of those men who thought just being in the house was contribution enough. Work? Never heard of it. Yet every evening, he’d lounge on the sofa like a king, demanding dinner while criticising Emily’s cooking. And then there were his little “adventures” on the side! More than once, Emily caught him with suspicious texts on his phone or lipstick on his collar. Of course, he’d deny it, blame her—”You drove me to it!” I must’ve told her a hundred times, “Dump him, you’re young, beautiful, you’ll find a decent man.” But she put up with it, whether out of love or fear of being alone.
Then, three months ago, Emily reached her limit. She told me later how she’d found messages from some floozy on Victor’s phone—and discovered he’d blown their savings on his “escapades.” That was the final straw. She packed his things, tossed him out, and said, “That’s it, Vic, go find yourself another fool.” When I heard, I could’ve cheered. Victor, of course, tried crawling back—flowers, promises to “change.” But Emily stood firm. “Enough,” she told me. “I won’t live with someone who doesn’t respect me.”
And now, before I knew it, she was on the phone gushing about James. They’d met, of all places, in a café. Emily had stopped for coffee after work, and there he was at the next table, reading a book. She says he caught her eye straight away—polished, well-spoken, with a dry sense of humour. One thing led to another, they swapped numbers, and two weeks later, James suggested a getaway to the Cotswolds—renting a cottage, long walks, cosy pubs. “Can you believe it?” Emily said. “He planned it all himself, even hired the car! Victor would’ve just moaned about the cost.”
Listening to her, I could hardly believe it. The same Emily who’d sobbed in my kitchen weeks before was now laughing, making plans, and raving about how James taught her to cook pasta properly. “He’s not just some fling,” she said. “He listens—actually cares what I think.” And that’s when it clicked: this wasn’t just a holiday romance. Emily was properly smitten, and James seemed like the real deal.
Of course, the gossip started. Mutual acquaintances whispered, “Moving on too fast, isn’t she?” But I shot back, “Good for her! Life’s too short to waste on someone like Victor.” Some reckon she’s rushing into things with James, but I see how she’s come alive. Before, she walked around like a ghost—now she’s laughing, joking, even dyed her hair a rich chestnut. “I want to feel good for myself,” she says, “and for James.”
When she told me about the trip, I had to ask, “Em, do you even know this James properly?” She just laughed. “Enough to hike the Cotswolds with him! He’s a software developer, works for some fancy firm, and he’s got this cat he adores. Proper bloke, not like Victor.” Still, I worry—what if he’s not what he seems? But Emily’s confident: “If it goes wrong, I know how to pack my bags now. I won’t let anyone walk over me again.”
Her story made me think. How many women stay with men like Victor, afraid of change? But Emily took the leap. I almost envy her courage. She didn’t just walk away—she started fresh, and this new chapter looks bright. The Cotswolds, James, plans for the future… I can’t wait to hear all about their walks and evenings by the fireplace.
Yesterday, Emily sent me a photo: her in a bright woolly hat, cheeks rosy from the cold, standing against snowy hills with a handsome bloke who must be James. The caption read: “Life begins now!” And you know what? I believe her. She’s earned this happiness. As for Victor? Let him argue with his own reflection. Emily’s moved on—and she’s all the better for it.
The lesson? Never settle for less than you deserve. A fresh start might be scary, but staying where you’re unhappy is far worse.
