What have you ever gained from all your complaining? her husband asked. But what happened next left him stunned.
If ever theres a time to wake early, its at five in the morning when your chest feels as though its been bound tight. Mary sat at the edge of the bed, staring out at the bleak London dawn.
Her heart thudded oddly: two beats, a missed one, three beats, silence. The doctor said yesterdaypanic attacks, apparently. Hed referred her for more tests.
Eighteen years ago, Mary was an ambitious graduate with her economics degree in hand. Now, what had she become? An accessory to her husbands business? An amateur bookkeeper who managed his accounts and signed where needed? Or simply the cleaner who mopped up at days end because James never noticed the grime?
Awake then? James shuffled into the kitchen, face rumpled and cross. Another sleepless night?
Mary nodded silently. She poured him a cup of tea. She took his favourite yoghurt from the fridgethe one hed eaten for breakfast for going on five years now.
By the way, he said, taking a sip, Im off to Manchester today. Three days. Important meeting with a supplier.
James.
She knew she shouldnt start. She knew the look hed give herthat heavy, weary gaze that said she was whining, trying to squeeze out sympathy he didnt feel. Still, she said quietly, Dont go now, please. I truly dont feel well. The doctor insists on proper tests.
He paused, put down his mug, then sighed through his nosejust like people whove heard it all before.
And what has your whining ever got you? His tone was flat, almost unconcerned, not even irritatedjust bored. I need to work, Mary. Work, not listen to all this every dayyour panic attacks, your exhaustion. Who isnt tired?
He packed his baghis routine, knowing shed be silent, swallow the hurt, blame herself for choosing another wrongly timed word.
But, strangely, Mary didnt stay silent.
James, she stood, slow and steady. Tell me, do you even remember who the mortgage is in the name of?
He looked over and smirked. What does it matter? Probably both of us.
Its me. Its all in my name.
Something seemed to crack in the air. Mary saw his face change.
What are you saying?
I mean, she continued, eight years ago, when we took out this flat, you had serious debts, remember? No bank would have given you a loan.
He said nothing.
The mortgage is with me. The flat too. Im also joint-signatory on your business loans. Guarantor. You cant renew or expand anything without my signature.
James sat heavily down. Like his legs no longer supported him.
Why are you telling me this?
Just a reminder. And one other thing Mary opened a drawer and retrieved a folder, placing it on the table. I know about Emily.
James stared at the folder.
He sat completely still, the look of someone whos just taken a hefty knock to the headnot quite in pain, just dazed.
About Emily, Mary repeated, calm and evenher own voice unfamiliar to her. Emily, your friend Richards accountant. Pretty girl, twelve years younger than me.
She flipped the folder open. Sheet by sheet she fanned out the statements before himdeliberate, almost ceremonious, like spreading cards at a casino.
Your bank statements. The ones you hid away so carefully. See these transfers? Forty thousand. Fifty. Seventy. Month after month.
He said nothing.
And these are messages, Mary added, setting down printouts. Did you really think I wouldnt know the password to your work computer? I set the new one for you myself three years ago.
James snatched up the papers, scanning quickly. He blanched.
Where did you get these?!
Does it matter? Mary poured herself some water. Her hand shook, but only a little. What matters is that you funnelled money through her. Transferred it to her account. Do you reckon HMRC would be interested in this?
James shot to his feet, voice stumbling into a shout. How dare you? Who do you think you are? Youve lived off me all your life! Never earned a penny! Just sat at home sponging off me!
Sponger? Mary let out a brittle, bitter laugh. Amusing word, really. Funny isnt it? The sponger who signed your bank agreements. The sponger who did the bookkeeping while you were always at meetings. The sponger with the mortgage and is the co-signee for all your loans.
Youre threatening me?!
No. Mary walked to the window. Im simply laying things out for you. Because you seem to have forgotten some basic facts.
She turned round.
Ive restored my degree over the last six months. Taken refresher coursesat night, between panic attacks and sleeplessness. Someones offered me a job. Not glamorous, but enough to afford somewhere and take care of myself and Sophie.
Sophie?! he spluttered. You want to take our daughter?!
When did you last see her? Mary stepped closer, her voice gentle and frank. Honestly, James, when did you last speak to her?
He fell silent, because he truly couldnt recall.
Mary lifted another paper.
Neurologists assessment. Chronic nervous fatigue. Panic attacks. Recommendedchange of environment, therapy, removal of distressing influences. That last line? She pointed. Prolonged exposure to stress. Know what that could mean for you?
Mary
It means if I file for divorce now, the court will side with me.
Mary placed the final sheet on the table.
Most importantly, without my signature you cant renew your business loan next week. Richard called yesterday. The bank needs documents. Needs my signature.
James sank down again. As if barely able to stand.
What do you want? His voice was hoarse. Money?
Mary gave a short, quiet laugh.
Money? No, James. I want simple respect. I want you to admit, just once, that without me youd have nothing. No business. No flat. Not even this precious business trip youre so eager for.
She grabbed her bag.
Youve got until this evening. Im taking Sophie to Claires. Think it over. When youre ready to have a real conversation, call me. But dont expect to find the same Mary who put up with everything in silence.
James called six hours later.
Mary was at Claires kitchen table, drinking mint tea, feeling oddly light, as though shed just emerged from a bog shed been stuck in up to her neckand now, sitting here, wiping her face, she could finally breathe.
Hello, she answered, her voice steady as a rock.
We need to talk.
Im listening.
Not over the phone. A long pause. Come back home.
Mary grinned.
No, James. If you want to talk, come here. Remember Claires address?
He arrived within the hour. Angry. Tense. Face of a man cornered whod try anything to wriggle free.
Claire, sensing the mood, took Sophie into another room. Mary remained in the kitchen.
How dare you?! James struck the table. Are you trying to blackmail me?!
No. Im simply stating the facts.
What facts? You nicked my papers! Spied on me! Snooped through my computer!
James Mary sighed, really think nows the time to go on the attack? After everything Ive shown you?
He bit back his words, because she was right.
Listen to me carefully, Mary leaned in. Im not here to ruin you. Im not going to the taxman or airing this in public. I simply want you to understand that without me, you have nothing.
You want a divorce? His words barely a whisper.
Do you?
He looked down, silent for ages. Then let out a slow breath.
Emilyit meant nothing.
Dont interrupt. Mary raised her hand. Ive known about Emily for half a year. How you used her to move money, how you saw her on business, half of which were pretence. I knew. And I said nothing. I hoped itd pass. That youd come to your senses.
She gave a strangled laugh.
Or maybe I just feared admitting our marriage had died five years ago. We both just pretended nothing was wrong.
Mary
Im tired of being treated as an accessory in my own life. Having every word, every plea brushed aside. Of you never noticing I was unravelling under your nose.
James sat pale, fists clenched.
You have a choice, Mary went on. We could try again. No more lies. No more cheating.
Or you leave and take everything.
No. She shook her head. I only take whats mine. The flat. My business share. The loans I co-signedyoull pay those off alone. Ill make a new life for myself.
She stood upa clear sign the talk was over.
You have three days. Think about it. When youre ready for an honest discussion, call me. Just remember: the Mary who swallowed everything, she died yesterday at five in the morning.
A week later, James returned.
This time, none of the false bravado that used to mask his insecurity. He simply sat at Claires table and was silent for a long while.
Richard says without your signature, the bank wont extend the loan, he muttered. Business will go under.
Mary nodded. I know.
So, what do you want?
She looked at him.
I want a divorce.
James turned ashen.
Youre truly serious?
More than ever. Mary calmly poured herself tea. Hands were steady. Not a hint of tremor. Ill sign at the bank. Ill renew the loan. On one conditionwe divorce amicably. No drama. You buy out my share of the business; I keep the flat. Sophie lives with me.
Mary
Its all decided, James. She smiled. Best part? Ive finally slept well for the first time in yearswithout pills. Proper sleep. No panic attacks.
He said nothing.
And that taught me something. Im not ill. I dont need fixingI just needed to leave you, and the life where I meant nothing.
Mary stood.
Its your choice. Agree to my termspeaceful divorceor I go to court with all my documents. Then youll lose even more. Think on it.
James bowed his head. He knewhed lost. The woman he thought weak was stronger than hed ever been.
All right, he sighed. Agreed.
In three months, the divorce was final.
Mary kept the flat and received a proper sum for her share in the business. She started her new job.
James remained with the business and moved to a new place. But an odd emptiness haunted him, especially in the evenings when he returned home and realised there was nobody to share his day with. Nobody to just sit beside.
Emily, incidentally, left him a month after the divorce. She hadnt wanted love but a comfortable life. When she realised James was now saddled with all the loans and couldnt afford to keep a mistress in luxury, her interest dissolved.
Mary heard all this from Richard. She only smiledand felt nothing. No gloating, no pity.
Simply nothing.
In the end, sometimes involvement in a husbands business teaches you not how to live for someone else, but how to rediscover your own worthand that stepping away is not a weakness, but the start of a life that truly belongs to you.
