“Natalie Stephenson, I wont be living with your son anymoremake sure he knows that,” said Charlotte.
“And who exactly will you live with? Whod want a woman with a child? I dont see a queue of princes lining up outside your fence,” muttered her mother-in-law.
Charlotte was packing her daughters things. Her own belongings were already in the bagjust the essentials, nothing more. The rest could wait.
Her movements were calm and methodicala warm outfit for Sophie went in next, mentally checked off. The shoes followedanother tick.
She wasnt crying anymore, wasnt panicking. One sleepless night had been enough to make her decisionshe and Kevin needed to separate.
She heard him come home late. He peeked into the bedroom, then nudged open Sophies door when he didnt find his wife there. Charlotte pretended to sleep.
In the morning, before leaving for work, Kevin lingered outside Sophies room, shifting awkwardly, but didnt dare step insidehed save the conversation for later.
But thered be no conversation. In half an hour, Charlotte would call a cab and leave with two-year-old Sophie for her parents house.
After last night, she didnt just refuse to speak to himshe never wanted to see him again.
Shed grown used to him coming home tipsy every Friday. But yesterday was Wednesday. Worse still, shed asked him to come home early to watch Sophie while she met a friendEmily had promised to help her find remote work.
She couldnt leave Sophie with him in that state, so she called Emily to reschedule. Kevin didnt like that.
“Who are you calling? What meeting?” he snapped.
“Its Emily. We were supposed to meet, but I cant leave Sophie with you like this.”
“And why not?”
“Look at yourself in the mirror. Go sleep it offyouve got work tomorrow,” Charlotte said, turning toward the kitchen.
“Stop right there!” Kevin grabbed her arm. “Whats wrong with how I am? Had a few pints with the ladsbig deal! I decide when I come home, got it?”
Charlotte tried to pull free. “Let go! Youre hurting me! Have you lost your mind?”
She yanked her arm away, and Kevin staggered, nearly falling. “Oh, so thats how it is?” he snarledthen his fist struck her brow.
She clutched her face. Kevin, looking as shocked as she was, loosened his grip and stammered something. But she turned away, heading straight for Sophie.
“Princess!” he shouted again before storming out.
“Princess” was his mothers nickname for Charlotte. Natalie Stephenson had disliked her from the start.
“Twenty-one and still living off her parents! Studying! At her age, I already had one child and another on the way.”
“A man, a home, a garden, responsibilities! But noshes studying! Princess! Youll suffer with her, Kevin. Shouldve picked a simpler girl!”
Charlottes parents werent fond of their son-in-law either.
“Charlotte, why the rush? Kevin isnt the last man on earth! Infatuated? Finedate, even live together, though you know how I feel about that.”
“Dont rush into marriage! Ask yourselfcan you spend your life with this man? Look at his family, then decide.”
So Charlotte decided. Within six months, she knew it was wrong. She couldve left sooner. But admitting her parents were right was humiliating. And thenshe was expecting.
Sophies arrival didnt change Kevin. He still believed housework and childcare were his wifes duties.
Her exhaustion, Sophies teething, any crisisnone excused an unmade dinner or untidy flat.
“Cant handle one child? Other women manage! Bet you nap when Im at work!”
“Surely youve time to shop and cook all day,” hed say.
“Sophies teethingshes fussy. I cant cook while holding her. I ordered groceries. Cant you make pasta? Or take her so I can cook?”
The rose-tinted glasses had shattered long ago. Charlotte often thought her mother had been rightshe shouldve waited, shouldve studied Kevins family.
Shed nearly left several times. But Kevin promised to change, and Charlotte, still hoping, believed him.
Until last nightthe first time hed raised a hand to her. That was the line.
Yes, facing her parents was humiliating. But living with a man whod hit her? Unthinkable. Worseletting Sophie grow up in that home.
Charlottes mother spotted the taxi pulling up outside their house, her daughter stepping out with Sophie in her arms.
“John, lookCharlottes here. With bags. Help her carry them in,” she said.
When Charlotte stepped inside and removed her sunglasses, her parents frozeher left eye was swollen, a bruise spreading beneath it.
“Kevin did this?” her mother gasped.
Charlotte nodded.
“Ill sort him out,” her father growled, heading for the door.
“Dad, no,” Charlotte stopped him. “Ill punish him my way. Just help me get our thingsand Sophies cotfrom his flat.”
Her father and uncle fetched their belongings, then took Charlotte to A&E.
“If you want to report Kevin, the hospital note wont be enoughyoull need a forensic exam,” her uncle explained.
“Well go tomorrow,” her father said. “Need to book an appointment.”
Kevin returned from work with flowers for his wife and a toy for Sophie. But the flat was empty. No belongings, no cot.
He tried calling Charlotteher phone was off. Then he rang his mother-in-law.
“Yes, Charlotte and Sophie are here. And dont you dare show your facemy husbands fists are itching. Shell file for divorce herself.”
Kevin kept calling. Even waited outside her parents house. But she ignored his calls, only taking Sophie to the backyard.
Within a week, divorce papers arrived. Then came the heavy artilleryNatalie Stephenson appeared at the gate.
“Mum, I dont want to talk to her,” Charlotte said.
“You should,” her mother replied. “Clear the air. Well talk outsideno need to invite her in, especially with Sophie napping.”
“So, divorcing?” Natalie began. “If things dont go your way, straight to the police?”
“Kevin hit me,” Charlotte said.
“You drove him to it! Comes home tipsydont provoke him, let him sleep it off!”
“You picked a fight, got what you deserved. And now youll divorce? Make your child fatherless?”
“Natalie Stephenson, I wont live with your sontell him that.”
“And wholl take you? With a child? Dont see a queue of princes behind your fence,” Natalie sneered.
“Ill manage.”
“Well, dont expect his flat or child support,” she scoffed.
“Dont want the flat. But Ill claim supportand the courts will side with me.”
They did. The divorce was swiftmedical evidence sealed it. Support was granted, plus an extra four hundred pounds monthly until Sophie turned three.
Five years later, a September morning saw a school assemblyrowdy older kids, nervous first-graders clutching huge bouquets. Sophie, starting Year One, was there with her grandparents and mother.
“Will Dad come?” Sophie asked.
“Hell be here. Just textedhes on his way,” Charlotte said. “There he is!”
She waved at a tall man scanning the crowd.
But it wasnt Kevin. Three years ago, Charlotte married Alexander, a colleague. Now, they were expecting another child.
As for Kevin? Still single. Thered been women he liked, women who liked him. But whenever things turned serious, someone always revealed why his first wife left.
Small towns have long memories. Worsehed earned a nickname: “The Sofa Puncher.”
Maybe someday, a woman would overlook it. But so far? The boomerang effectwhether you believe in it or nothad struck.
