Emily was still asleep when the sharp ring of the doorbell cut through the quiet of the Saturday morning. Startled, she sat up in bed. Who could be here this early? She wasn’t expecting anyone.
Opening the door, she froze. Standing on the doorstep were her colleagues—Martha, Charlotte, and Grace. Martha held a thermos, while Charlotte carried a box with a freshly baked Victoria sponge.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Emily gasped. “It’s the weekend!”
“Exactly why we’re here,” Martha said, already stepping inside as if it were her own flat. “Where’s your daughter?”
“Sophie’s still asleep… What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Charlotte said gently. “Get her ready and pack a bag. You’re coming with us to a countryside retreat. No arguments.”
Emily stood stunned. None of this made sense. A retreat? Now?
“I told you at the office I couldn’t—”
“And we know why,” Charlotte interrupted softly. “We’re ashamed we didn’t notice sooner.”
Emily went pale.
“What do you mean?”
“We know everything, Emily. That you’ve been raising Sophie alone since the divorce, that your ex hasn’t paid child support, that you’ve been scraping together pennies for her school uniforms while skipping meals—and never saying a word to anyone.”
Emily stayed silent. A lump tightened in her throat.
“I… didn’t want to complain. I thought… I could handle it.”
“And you have,” Grace chimed in. “But handling it doesn’t mean just surviving. We’re your friends, Emily. And friends don’t let friends drown.”
“Everything’s sorted,” Martha continued. “The retreat’s on us—travel, food, everything. All you need to bring is yourself and Sophie.”
Emily looked down, cheeks burning. Accepting help felt impossible. But drowning in silence was worse.
“But… I don’t even have proper clothes—”
“You have us,” Martha said firmly. “Charlotte brought hand-me-downs from her niece. All in good condition, perfect for school.”
“We put together school supplies too,” James added, stepping into the hallway with a bag. “Pens, notebooks, sketchpads. Everything she’ll need.”
“I… don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything,” Grace whispered, pulling her into a hug. “Just believe this—you deserve more than just struggles. You deserve rest. You deserve care.”
Two hours later, their little group was on a coach heading out of London. Sophie sat in Emily’s lap, clutching her new satchel. Emily stared out the window, hands wrapped around the thermos of tea. For the first time in ages, warmth spread through her chest.
She’d had no luck with her husband. But as it turned out, she’d been wildly lucky with the people beside her.
