**Diary Entry**
“Hey, where are you off to?” she called from the kitchen.
“George, where are you going?”Beatrice peeked out, drying her hands on her apron, eyeing her husband with surprise.
George, a forty-five-year-old manager of a well-known construction firm, had made up his mind. While his wife cooked breakfast, hed packed his bag. Now, standing in the doorway of their spacious flat in Kensington, he felt the weight of his decision.
Beatrice had always cared for the family. She believed a proper breakfastsausages, cheese, and warm toastwas the foundation of health and success. When the children were young, she rose before dawn. Three kids demanded her full attention, and Georges salary had allowed her to focus solely on home life.
He stayed silent. Watching Beatrice, his wife of twenty-five years, he convinced himselfthis was right. It was time for a change.
Lately, shed put on weight, losing the spark in her eyes that had once charmed him. She no longer excited him. Thats where Emily came inyoung, sharp, with jet-black hair, met at a corporate event in Cornwall. Bold, like him. Thats why he stood there now, bag in hand.
Enough! Why stay with a woman he didnt love? The kids were grown: James and Peter, graduates, worked in London; Catherine, in her fourth year of medical school, had his support. As for his wife Why keep providing for her? Emily was rightit was time to split the flat.
“Going somewhere?” Beatrice asked calmly. “You shouldve told me. Id made you sandwiches. Not good to leave on an empty stomach.”
“Always with the food!” George snapped, annoyed he couldnt voice his intentions. “Do you think there arent cafés out there? Youre stuck in that kitchen like the world doesnt exist!”
“Is something wrong?” Her voice stayed gentle.
Shed suspected the affair for months. Knew this day would come. But she knew her husband.
“Im leaving! Im with someone else. A modern woman, not some housewife!”
“Congratulations,” she replied, as if discussing the weather.
“Dont I deserve it?”
“You deserve more. Youre hardworking, clever, handsome”
“The flat will be split,” he said, softer now.
“Fine. Well handle it legally.”
Her ease unsettled him. Hed expected screams, not this calm.
“Get a job,” he warned. “I wont support you.”
“I dont need you to. Im remarrying.”
“Remarrying?” He scoffed. “Whod want you?”
“Plenty. Women like me are sought after. Experienced, homemakers, good cooks And with a flat of my own after the split.”
His throat tightened. The thought of Beatrice with another man gnawed at him.
“Ive got a meeting,” he muttered, putting his bag down. “Dont plan anything today. Its disrespectful.”
At the office, doubt ate at him. Hed planned to return if things with Emily fell through, but now
By evening, Emily called, impatient:
“Where are you? I found a flat in Mayfair! We need to furnish the bedroom and pay for that trip to Barbados. Remember your promise?”
“Whats for dinner?” he cut in.
“Nothing. Im dieting. We could order sushi”
George hung up. He thought of the shepherds pie Beatrice wouldve made, the quiet comfort of home. And the idea of another man calling her his wife.
No. That wouldnt happen.
**Lesson Learned:** The grass isnt always greener. Sometimes what you think youre chasing is just another patch of dirt.
