“Have You No Shame?”
“Youve lost your mind. You spent the money weve been saving for five yearson a flat for your pregnant mistress? My money too? You threw it all away on some I cant even find the words! How could you?”
Thirteen years. Thats how long Anna had been married to Edward. She had loved him utterly, completelysimply for existing, for the way his messy chestnut hair always stuck up at odd angles, for the tired but tender smile he reserved for their eight-year-old son, Oliver. Life in their quiet market town had been predictable, unchanginguntil now.
Edward walked in at exactly half past nine. Lately, hed been working late, but Anna hadnt thought much of ituntil tonight. The moment he slammed the door and shrugged off his jacket, she caught ita sickly-sweet floral scent clinging to the fabric. Not his usual cologne.
“Hello, love,” he muttered, brushing a kiss to her hairline. “Exhausted. Long day.”
“Hello. Are you hungry? I made dinner.”
“No, thanks. Just need a shower.”
He moved past her, and Annas stomach twisted. Hed been skipping meals too often. And the phonealways in his pocket now, never left on the side table like before. If she even glanced at it, he tensed.
“Youre late,” she said, picking up her tea. “Busy at work?”
Edward paused in the hallway.
“Yeah. You know how it isend of the quarter. Reports. Paperwork.”
“Why do you smell like that?” The question came out sharper than she intended.
Edward froze.
“Like what?” His voice was casual, but his shoulders stiffened.
“Flowers. Something sweet. Its not your aftershave.”
“Oh. Probably one of the girls at the office. Lucy from Accounting was showing off new perfume. Mustve rubbed off.” He waved a hand. “Dont keep me, Annie. Im knackered.”
“Lucy from Accounting,” Anna repeated under her breath as she stepped back into the kitchen. “Right.”
That scent had haunted her for weeks. Shed tried to ignore it, told herself it was nothing, that his colleagues wore perfumenormal, harmless.
—
Their familys dream had lived in a savings accountfive years of sacrifices, every spare pound tucked away for Olivers future. A flat of his own by the time he turned eighteen. Edward, an engineer at the local factory, and Anna, a seamstress taking private orders, had forgone holidays, skipped new cars, pinched penniesexcept when it came to Oliver. The account shouldve held nearly fifty thousand poundsa fortune in their town, a guarantee their son wouldnt have to scrape by in student digs.
The storm broke without warning.
A client paid Anna early, even adding a tip for her quick work. Instead of transferring it online, she walked to the bankmaybe for the air, maybe for the distraction.
The teller, Saraha girl shed known for yearsgave her a polite smile.
“Hello, Mrs. Hart. How can I help?”
“Id like to check the balance on our savings account. And deposit a bit more, if I can.”
“Of course. May I see your ID?”
Anna handed it over. Sarahs fingers tapped the keyboard.
“Mrs. Hart” She frowned. “Its empty.”
“What?”
“Zero balance. No pounds, no pence.”
Annas knees buckled. She gripped the counter.
“Sarah, thats impossible. Check again. We opened it five years agoEdward William Hart. I put money in every week!”
Sarah lowered her voice. “Im looking at the transaction history. A large withdrawal two weeks ago. The full amount£49,800. The account was closed.”
Two weeks ago. Edward had come home late that night, muttering about a last-minute meeting.
“Print the statement. Every transaction. Now.”
She stumbled out of the bank, barely remembering the drive home. Fifty thousand pounds. Gone.
—
When Edward returned, Anna was waiting at the kitchen table, the printed statement folded neatly in front of her. Her face was dry, eerily calmthe quiet before the storm.
Edward tossed his keys onto the shelf, rubbing his temples.
“Hello. Everything alright?”
“Sit down, Edward.” Her voice was flat.
He eyed the papers. Understanding dawned slowly.
“Whats this?”
“Look at it.”
He sat, jaw tight.
“Annie, I dont”
“Spare me. I went to the bank. The accounts empty. Wheres the money, Edward?”
He didnt deny it.
“How did you find out?”
“Does it matter? What did you do?”
“I bought a flat.”
“For who?”
He exhaled sharply. When he met her gaze, there was no guiltjust irritation.
“For her.”
“Who is *her*?”
“Sophie.”
Anna stared. Edward shrunk under her silence, then spilled the story.
“Remember that work retreat last year? The one the boss forced us all to go to? Thats where I met her. Shesdifferent. Wild. Nineteen when we started. Rides a motorbike, tattoos everywhere. I lost my head, Annie. With you, its like were friends. Comfortable. But with her”
Anna stood, cutting him off.
“So youll protect *her* child, but not your own son?” She laughed coldly. “Heres what happens now. Tomorrow, you sign your half of this house over to Oliver. When hes older, Ill sell ithell have his own place. As for you? I dont care. Im filing for divorce. And if you fight me, Edward, Ill ruin you.”
He begged, of course. Waited outside the house, sent pleading textsall unanswered. The divorce went through.
And Sophie? She didnt want him either.
The baby, born right on time, wasnt histhe almond-shaped eyes made that painfully clear.
And that was that.
