**Heartbreak Under the English Sun: A Drama in Lakeshire**
Emily returned home from her holiday with a heavy heart. Her husband, James, hadn’t written once. At the train station in Lakeshire, no one waited for her… The home was dark, no dinner, just chaos. “He must’ve been at his mum’s again,” she thought bitterly. She grabbed a second bag and started packing. That’s when James walked in.
“Back already?” he muttered, leaning in the doorway. “Wasn’t expecting you. Think you can just swan off and get away with it?”
Emily laughed—sharp, almost hysterical.
“Don’t be so dramatic, I won’t be here long,” she muttered, voice trembling with held-back emotion.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!” His face darkened, then realization struck.
—
“Jamie, how could you? We planned this holiday for ages!” Emily was on the verge of tears.
She’d dreamed of this trip all year. They’d scrimped and saved, debated resorts, imagined lazy beach days.
“Not my fault, is it? Mum fell ill—had to stay,” James grumbled, avoiding her gaze.
“And when next? If she’d been hospitalised, fine. But it’s just a cold!” Emily snapped.
“She had a fever! Called an ambulance!”
“Which dropped the minute she took paracetamol. James, this was a last-minute deal. If we don’t grab it now, we won’t get this price again!”
“Christ, your selfishness is unbearable! I said no. Mum could get worse!”
“She’s got a daughter, hasn’t she? Why can’t Lydia help?”
“You know she’s busy. Drop it. We’ll go another time. And anyway, I’ve promised Mum I’d help with her renovations. You’ll pitch in too.”
He left the room like the conversation was over. Emily burst into tears.
She endured a job she hated just to pay the bills, and now she was losing the one break she’d longed for. She’d weathered her boss’s snide remarks, worked overtime, all for the dream of warm sands and golden sun.
She’d wanted to quit before, but James forbade it—she earned well there. They’d bought a new car, redone the house. But his wages always bled into his mother’s whims—fixing this, buying that. Still, it wasn’t enough.
Likely, his mum had pushed him to cancel. She loved parties where everyone danced to her tune—though that “everyone” was just her darling boy. His sister, Lydia, had long since learned to steer clear. So he’d never ask her to care for Mum. But saying no to his wife? Easier.
The beach faded from reach. Instead, Emily pictured herself wallpapered into her mother-in-law’s stuffy flat and knew—she couldn’t do it. She needed this.
Half an hour later, she faced James again. “I’m going. With or without you.”
“You’ve lost the plot!”
“You’ve lost yours. I’ve waited for this like a miracle, and you’re stealing it. Stay if you’re so worried. I’m going.”
“Who with, then?” he sneered.
“Alone.”
He scoffed, then paced the kitchen. “I know why you want this—some fling, is it? Fancy a holiday fling to wreck everything?”
Emily clenched her jaw, biting back words.
“Silent? Knew it!”
“If you don’t trust me, come,” she said coldly.
“Not leaving Mum.”
“Then don’t.”
She stormed out, breath ragged with fury. Always, his mother came first. Now he accused her of fantasies she’d never entertained. She’d wanted peace—nothing more.
James assumed she was bluffing.
The next morning, she asked one last time. He snapped, calling her a fool. By afternoon, she returned with a ticket.
James exploded—unprecedented. Emily offered to buy his ticket, but he was too proud. Even though Mum hadn’t even coughed today.
As she left for the station, he spat, “Don’t bother coming back. I don’t need a wife like you.”
She boarded the train in tears, unaware this trip would change everything.
—
At the resort, her worries melted. Warm waves, golden sun, delicious food—it swallowed her whole. That first night, she texted James: “Arrived safe. It’s lovely. Wish you were here.” No reply.
She stopped messaging. If he cared, he’d ask. But silence was her punishment, he thought.
Only one day of guilt, then freedom took over. Being alone was bliss. With James, they’d have bickered, stuck to the pool and cafés. Instead, she explored, swam, wandered.
And thought. Re-evaluated. Peace settled her soul, putting everything in place. That hated job? She stayed not for lack of options, but because James feared losing her salary. Yet she never enjoyed that money—he decided where it went.
She’d scrimped for this trip—he hadn’t put in a penny. And she lived with a man who didn’t cherish her. She was convenient: docile, a breadwinner, cook, cleaner.
She looked good—unlike James, whose beer gut bulged at twenty-eight. His mother? Not once had she thanked Emily.
Sipping a cocktail by the sea, Emily wondered: Why? What did this marriage give her? Disrespect and stress. Why endure it?
She’d thought she loved him. But now, away, she realised… she didn’t miss him. And dreaded returning.
He never messaged. Maybe that was best. Cleaner to leave…
At Lakeshire station, no one waited. The house was dark, dinner unmade, chaos reigning. James had been at Mum’s.
She didn’t unpack. Just grabbed a second bag. That’s when he found her.
“Back?” he sneered in the doorway. “Didn’t expect you. Think you’ll just waltz in forgiven? Oh no, darling—you’ll be begging!”
Emily laughed—bitter, free. How kind of him to make this easier. Leaving the home she’d shared for three years? She’d feared it would hurt. But no—she wanted to sprint.
“No need to fret. Just here to collect my things,” she said calmly.
“What’s that?!”
His face twisted. “Ah—found some bloke on holiday, did you?”
“No. Found myself,” she said, zipping the bag. “I’m leaving, Jamie. Divorce papers soon.”
“You can’t! I’m throwing you out!”
“If you say so.” She shrugged.
She left for her old flat—bought before the wedding. James had nagged her to sell it, but she’d refused. Now, she thanked her past self.
He thought she’d cave. But days later, when the papers arrived, he panicked. Called, pleaded. Too late.
Emily started fresh. Divorced, quit the job she loathed, and—finally—learned to love herself. Life’s too short to follow someone else’s script.
