**Ten Days Later: The Empty House**
Emily paused on the doorstep of their small flat in Manchester, just back from work. Something felt off. She walked through each room, her heart tightening with dread—her husband’s summer clothes, razor, toothbrush, all gone. Standing in the middle of the bedroom, she fought back the sting of tears. He’d actually done it. Left her without a word.
A few months ago, she and David had dreamed of a holiday. He’d insisted on a trip abroad, and Emily, swept up in excitement, agreed. She pictured herself on a sunlit beach, walking barefoot on golden sand. They’d decided to split the cost—their finances had always been separate. She was used to it, though it left a bitter taste sometimes.
But then she’d spent all her savings on an emergency surgery. David knew, yet still asked where she’d get the money for the trip. His words cut deep. Swallowing her pride, she asked to borrow the difference, promising to repay it after her summer bonus. He just shrugged, muttering into his laptop.
David had a rule: never lend money. But wasn’t she his wife? Shouldn’t she be the exception? Other couples shared everything, yet she’d sometimes had to beg him for grocery money. Humiliating, but she’d held on, hoping he’d change.
She’d tried talking to him, pleading for help. He’d brush her off, insisting the holiday was still on—but his words rang hollow. Then his leave came, and he vanished. Alone. Without her.
When Emily realised he’d sneaked off to some beach without warning, her world shattered. He hadn’t just left—he’d betrayed her, choosing his comfort over their marriage. Anger and grief choked her as she sat in their stifling flat, surrounded by memories. She called her mum, sobbing into the phone.
*How could he, love?* Her mother’s voice shook with fury. *Your dad and I shared everything. Come home, pet. No sense staying there alone.*
Emily agreed. She couldn’t bear the flat’s emptiness. Packing a bag, she left for her mum’s house in the countryside. There, wrapped in familiar comfort, she finally breathed again. Days later, her brother James and his wife announced a seaside trip. Her sister-in-law, noticing her sadness, nudged her: *Em, come with us. Enough moping.*
The kindness undid her. Such a simple offer, yet it made her see how little David had ever valued her. He’d lived for himself while she’d clung to false hope.
By the sea, Emily laughed with her nieces, walked the shore, and felt the ache in her chest ease. There was no going back. David had shown his true colours, and she refused to be his shadow. Returning to her mum’s, she made her choice. She cleared her things from their flat, leaving a note on the kitchen table: *I’ve gone. Took my things. Expect divorce papers. Hope the holiday was worth it.*
Ten days later, David fumbled at the door—keys lost, as usual. A neighbour lent him a spare. Inside, silence swallowed him. No Emily. Just that note, each word a hammer blow.
He slumped into a chair, hands shaking. Too late, he understood what he’d thrown away. The woman he’d taken for granted had walked out, leaving only emptiness. She’d chosen herself—and he knew, with crushing certainty, she wouldn’t return.
*Some lessons come too late. Pride costs more than money ever could.*
