“Sorry, but I won’t forgive you.”
“Oliver, are you sure you haven’t forgotten anything? Shouldn’t you double-check?” I called out, pausing by the bathroom door.
“Emily, it’s all packed. The suitcase is bursting!” he shouted over the sound of the shower. And for some reason, his voice held a hint of unease, something shaky.
I stepped back. I’d seen the suitcase, but what exactly he’d stuffed in there—no clue.
“Make me a strong coffee, please. No milk,” he called again, his voice steadier this time.
On autopilot, I headed to the kitchen. Spooned the coffee into the pot, added water, a pinch of salt. Even though we’ve got a coffee machine, he always asks me to make it by hand—says it tastes better, like his gran’s. And I do it. Habit. Love.
“Heavenly smell of a heavenly drink!” He walked in, running a hand through his damp hair before sitting at the table. “Courier’s coming—take the delivery. Ordered some car covers.”
“No upfront payment?” I slid into the chair opposite.
“Cash on delivery,” he sighed. “And honestly, this business trip came out of nowhere. Couldn’t say no, you know how it is—career and all. Senior manager, a big deal.”
“Who’d have thought ‘senior managers’ still did work trips…”
He shrugged, picked up his phone—figured he’d squeeze in some work while he had time. Then stood and left.
I glanced at his empty cup—didn’t even clear it away. Fine, I’ll let it slide. Not like he’s got time for dishes right now—first business trip, all the nerves…
Then—ping. A message.
I opened it.
“Emily, Oliver’s lying. He’s flying to Greece with Sophie Carter. Stop him—he’s making a huge mistake.”
Hannah. His sister.
I froze. Not a joke. Hannah doesn’t joke about things like this. So—it’s true.
Panic clawed up my chest. I sat. Gulped down the glass of water in front of me. Then another. Wanted to scream. Throw something. Smash the place. Instead—silence. Ice in my veins.
He knew. Planned it. Used our shared money, packed his bags, lied about the trip. And me? I made him coffee.
I grabbed my phone. Opened the banking app. Twelve grand. Minus three. Already taken. Mostly my money.
Sophie… I knew about her. His first love. He told me himself. Hannah filled in the gaps. Sophie had dumped him, come back, left again. Now—back once more. Old ghosts.
Why couldn’t he just say it? Why lie like this?
I’ll handle it. Draining the rest. Filing for divorce. His stuff? Courier. Got a presentation tomorrow—I’ll manage. After? Holiday. Not Greece. Alone.
He walked back in. Suit on, ready.
“Off now. Thought I’d leave early,” he said.
“Safe trip,” I muttered through gritted teeth.
“Emily, what’s with the tone?”
“Must be your imagination.”
“Going to miss you.”
“Doubt you’ll have time.”
“Not seeing me off?”
“You know the way. Dishes won’t wash themselves.”
He left. Wheels scraped the floor. Door slammed.
One thought—change the locks. Tomorrow. Called the landlord—sorted.
Only then did I let myself cry. Hurt like hell. Felt filthy.
Phone pinged again.
“Emily, you okay?” Hannah.
Called her.
“How’d you know?” I asked flatly.
“Friend of Sophie’s. They’re packing now. Couldn’t stay quiet, Em.”
“Thanks. Didn’t stop him. Let him go. His choice.”
“Christ, what an idiot. Let himself get walked over again…”
“His problem. Don’t tell him I know.”
“Course not. Honestly? Done talking to him. Absolute fool.”
“Han… thanks. Transferring the rest to Mum. Safer there. Then divorce.”
“Proud of you, Em. Stay strong.”
Hung up. Checked the account—another grand gone. Right. Transfer to Mum. Every penny.
“Hello, Mum?”
“Yes, love. Saw Oliver off?”
“Mum, transferring eleven grand. Can’t keep it in my account—he’d get half in the divorce. This way, it stays mine.”
“What’s happened?..”
“Flew off with some fling. Greece.”
“Oh God… Emily…”
“Done. Free now. Didn’t want kids—I do. Having one. Mine.”
“Sweetheart… maybe it’s not so bad? Caroline’s nephew—”
“Not now, Mum. Transferring the money. Talk later.”
Only after hanging up did I take my first deep breath all day. Hurt like hell. But breathing? Easier.
