“Sorry it’s turned out like this…”
“James, you’re sure you’ve got everything? Shouldn’t you double-check?” I called out, stopping in front of the closed bathroom door.
“Emma, relax! I’ve packed a whole suitcase—you saw it,” he replied, his voice muffled by the shower. But there was a tremor in it. Or was I imagining things?
“Yeah, I saw the suitcase. No idea what you stuffed in there, though,” I muttered under my breath, stepping away.
“Emma, could you make me a coffee? Strong. No milk,” he added smoothly, turning off the water.
I walked to the kitchen, silently pulled out the cafetière, poured in water, scooped the ground coffee, and added a pinch of salt—just how he liked it. We’ve got a proper coffee machine, but James always preferred when I made it by hand. “You’re so thoughtful,” he’d said the night before, coming home late from work and finding dinner wrapped in a tea towel to keep warm, an old habit I’d picked up from my nan.
Lately, he’d been working later and later—supposedly. Building his career. Gearing up for a promotion. And I played the part—cooking, ironing, biting my tongue.
“Smells like heaven!” James said, striding into the kitchen, shaking water from his hair. He sat down, reaching for the mug.
“Emma, I’ve got a delivery today—car seat covers. Could you take them for me? Cash on delivery,” he said, stirring in a sugar cube.
“Sure. Business as usual,” I said, sitting across from him.
“This work trip couldn’t have come at a worse time,” he sighed. “But I can’t say no. You know how it is—this could be my one shot. Senior manager’s no joke.”
“Right… Didn’t think a job like that would mean all this travel.”
“Boss’s whims. Anyway, I’ve got half an hour to kill—gonna check emails on my phone.”
He got up, left the room. Didn’t even take his mug. Whatever. He’s wound up—no point nagging.
I reached for his cup just as my phone buzzed—a message. I opened it.
“Emma, James is lying. It’s not a work trip. He’s flying to Italy with Sophie Carter. Stop him before he ruins his life.”
Sarah. His younger sister.
Something snapped in my head. Him… with Sophie? No way. Some sick joke? But Sarah wasn’t the type. And she’d never lie about this.
Everything blurred. The air felt thick as cement. I could barely breathe. Stumbled to my feet, poured myself water—then collapsed back into the chair.
I wanted to scream. Shatter everything. But all I could think was—”Why?”
I clenched my fist. Wanted to storm in there, rip the mask off. But… no. He didn’t deserve the drama.
Let him go. I’ll give him a surprise—not a fight, but action.
Opened the banking app. Joint account—£12,000. Shockingly, he’d already helped himself—£3,000 gone. My money, by the way. My freelance pay, late nights working. And he… used my savings to take his old flame on holiday.
I knew about Sophie. James had mentioned her. Sarah had too. High school sweetheart, total flirt. Dropped him twice—once for some rich bloke, then some hotshot. Now she’s back. James fell for it again. And lied.
Could’ve just said it straight—”Emma, I’ve met someone. Sorry.” Would’ve hurt, yeah. But not this foul. Instead—sneaky rat. Took the cash, lied about the trip, packed his bags…
Fine. I’ll take the rest. Today. Every penny. Then—divorce. His stuff? Courier to his parents.
Checked my calendar—big online presentation tomorrow noon. If it goes well, I’m taking leave. Not Italy, no. Maybe Portugal. Somewhere his feet haven’t touched.
“Emma, I’m off—thought I’d beat the traffic,” he said, popping his head in, all suited up.
“Bye. Good luck with the trip,” I croaked, gripping the cup.
“What’s with the tone?”
“Must’ve imagined it.”
“I’ll miss you…”
“Doubt you’ll have time for that.”
“No goodbye kiss?”
“I’d rather do the dishes.”
“Alright, see you.”
“Go on, then.”
The door slammed. James had no clue he’d just left for good. Tomorrow, new locks.
Sat back down. Sobbed—hard. From hurt, from humiliation. Traitor.
Another message from Sarah:
“Emma, you okay?”
Wiped my face, dialled her number.
“Sarah, how’d you know?”
“Sophie’s mate spilled it. She’s latched onto James again. Em, I’m sorry it’s—”
“Thanks for telling me. Didn’t stop him. Let him crash and burn.”
“He’s an idiot. She’ll wreck him a third time.”
“His choice. Sarah, don’t tell him I know.”
“Wouldn’t waste my breath on him. Done with his mess!”
“Cheers. Let’s stay close, yeah? Even after the divorce.”
“Course, Em. Stay strong.”
Back to the app. Another £1,000 gone. Panic? No. Calm. Transferred the lot to Mum. My mum. He’s lost all rights.
“Mum, just sent you £11,000. He took the rest.”
“Love, what’s happened?”
“Splitting up. He’s off to Italy with his mistress.”
“Oh, Em… We’ve got you. You’ll get through this. Someone better’s out there.”
“No, Mum. Not looking. Maybe just have a baby on my own. That’s it.”
“Well… your call. Auntie Grace’s nephew’s single… nice lad—”
“Mum. Not now.”
“Alright, love. Just—chin up.”
Hung up. Pulled myself together. Tomorrow’s a new day. James is gone, but I’m still here. Whole. Real. And my life’s still mine. No lies. No betrayal. Just… me.
