The door wasnt for him: a tale of love, betrayal, and inheritance
Emily was just about to turn in for the night when an unexpected knock rattled the front door. With a reluctant sigh, she threw on her dressing gown and shuffled over to answer it. There he stoodher ex-husband, James.
“You?” she blinked, tightening the robe around her. “What do you want?”
“We need to talk. Mind if I come in?” he said with a smile that didnt reach his eyes. “Its not like Im a stranger here.”
Emily stepped back without enthusiasm. James strode past her into the living room, flopped onto the sofa, and glanced around.
“Seems nothings changed,” he muttered. “No renovations, no comforts. Like time just stopped.”
“I like it this way. Did you drop by to inspect the place, or were you hoping to donate some paint and plaster?”
She wasnt afraid to be blunt with him anymore. Once, shed swallowed her words, endured his remarks in silence. But now? Why bother? Theyd been strangers for yearsif not outright enemies. Their daughter, Charlotte, was grown now, living her own life and barely speaking to either of them.
“Smells nice,” James abruptly changed the subject. “Cooking something? Care to share?”
Emily nearly laughed. Shed heard through the grapevine that hed split from his new wifethe same Sarah hed left her for a year and a half ago.
That night was etched in her memory. James had come home from work and started packing his things without a word.
“Im done. Ive been having an affair. You knew but pretended not to. Im sick of it.”
At the time, Emily had stood frozen, unable to believe itthough part of her had always known. Sarah, the twenty-year-old intern from his office, had turned his head in a matter of weeks. Emilys best friend, who worked at the same firm, had spilled everything. But Emily, swallowing her pride, had decided not to wreck their family over a fleeting fling. Shed thought it would pass. It hadnt.
James had moved into a rented flat and filed for divorce. Being the “honourable man” he was, hed waived his share of their home.
“You and Charlotte stay here. I dont need anything.”
Emily had cried for weeks. Shed begged him to come back. But hed been cold, smug even.
“Finally, Im in love,” hed said. “This is real. What we had was empty.”
During those bleak months, only her mother-in-law, Margaret Bennett, had stood by her. Already ill, Margaret had relied on Emilys helpdoctors visits, errands, prescriptions. James had barely shown his face; hed had a “new family” to tend to.
Margaret had openly taken Emilys side. Shed been disgusted with her son and refused to see him. Then, shed passed. Emily had been there till the end, organising the funeral while James only appeared for the wake.
Two weeks later, the will was read. The house hadnt gone to himit went to Emily.
“You wormed your way into her good books! Playing the saint, bringing her mealswhat an act!” James had shouted.
Emily had stayed silent. The choice had been Margarets. She turned to the window, where the pale moonlight glowed, and realisedfor the first time in yearsshe could finally breathe.
