Reaping What You Sow
Thoughtless actions often lead to unexpected consequences—fate has a way of balancing the scales. Sometimes, life tests our patience, resilience, or loyalty.
Slamming the door behind him, James stormed out of the flat, fists clenched, jaw tight with frustration. He was furious—at himself, at his wife, Eliza.
*”I’m a grown man, yet I can’t stand up to my own wife—the woman I love, the woman I’d do anything for. What am I doing wrong?”* The thought gnawed at him as he walked.
He couldn’t understand why Eliza was always dissatisfied. Her icy stares, sneers, and belittling remarks chipped away at his confidence. Their five-year marriage, once full of promise, now felt like a battleground. They had a three-year-old son, Archie, but even he couldn’t bridge the growing distance between them.
Just last week, James had rushed home with roses and a gift—a golden pendant—to celebrate their anniversary. He’d imagined Eliza’s smile, her gratitude. Instead, she tossed the flowers aside and scowled at the jewellery.
*”Is this really all you could manage?”* She scoffed. *”I thought I married a man who’d value me properly. A diamond ring, at least—was that too much to ask? Five years of my life wasted on a failure like you.”*
She flung the pendant onto the sofa and turned away. James swallowed his anger and left before he said something he’d regret.
He wandered into a pub, slumping at the bar. *”Happy anniversary, mate,”* he muttered, downing his drink. He wasn’t a heavy drinker, but tonight, he didn’t care.
*”Rough day?”* A woman’s voice—soft, tearful—spoke behind him.
He turned, seeing a stranger with red-rimmed eyes. *”Yeah. You too?”*
He barely remembered the rest.
The next morning, he woke in an unfamiliar flat, a woman beside him. Guilt twisted his gut—he’d never strayed before. He slipped out quietly, barely recalling her name: Sophie.
At home, Eliza demanded answers. *”Where were you?”*
*”Got drunk with a mate after our row. Stayed at his.”* He lied smoothly, relieved when she believed him. But the guilt festered.
For days, Eliza was sweet—joking, affectionate, as if their fight had never happened. James hoped things were mending, but the shame of his betrayal weighed on him.
Determined to make amends, he borrowed money from his mother and bought a diamond ring. He took the day off, flowers in hand, eager to surprise Eliza.
But when he opened the door, he froze. The flat was candlelit, Eliza in a revealing dress, laughing with a stranger—*”Oliver,”* she called him.
*”You’ve been seeing him behind my back?”* James demanded.
Eliza didn’t deny it. *”Oliver and I were together before you. He’s divorced now. We’re in love. You were just a rebound—nothing more.”*
Devastated, James left. His marriage had been a lie.
With nowhere to go, he returned to Sophie’s flat. She welcomed him hesitantly. *”I was a mess that night—my ex had just left me.”*
*”I took advantage,”* James admitted. *”I’m sorry.”*
They talked over tea, then more. Sophie offered him the spare room. *”Stay. Maybe things with Eliza will sort themselves out.”*
Days later, James returned for his things. The locks were changed. Oliver answered, smug. Eliza shouted from the kitchen: *”I filed for divorce!”*
James moved in with Sophie properly. Slowly, their friendship deepened. Archie adored her—more than he ever had Eliza, who rarely showed him affection. When Sophie announced her pregnancy, James proposed. Archie, excited for a baby sister, stopped asking about his mother.
Then Eliza called. Not for Archie—for herself.
*”James,”* she cooed when he arrived, pressing close. *”I made a mistake. Kirill left me—I’m pregnant. Take me back. For Archie’s sake.”*
He stepped back, noticing her swollen belly. *”Your problems aren’t mine anymore. I’ve moved on.”*
He walked away without looking back.
