**Diary Entry**
I still cant believe it. After thirteen years together, hes done this. The moneyour moneygone. Five years of scrimping, saving every spare penny, all for nothing.
Igorno, *James*walked in at half nine, reeking of some sickly floral perfume. Not his usual aftershave. He barely looked at me, muttering something about work, avoiding dinner again. Its been weeks of this. The phone glued to his hand, always face down. The late nights. I shouldve known.
Our dream was in that savings account. Every bit of extra cashhis engineering salary from the local factory, my sewing commissionswent into it. No holidays, no new car, just the hope of a flat for Michael when he turned eighteen. Nearly two hundred thousand pounds, enough to keep him out of student digs if he got into a decent uni.
Then today. A client paid me, even tipped for quick work. I went to the bank to deposit itjust fancied the walk, really. The teller, Sophie, gave me that polite smile until she checked the balance.
Its empty, Mrs. Carter.
Empty. James had withdrawn it all. Two hundred grand. Last Tuesday. The day he claimed he was stuck in meetings.
I sat at the kitchen table, the printed statement folded neatly in half, when he came home. No tears. Just ice.
Sit down, James.
He hesitated, eyes flicking to the papers. Then he knew.
Whats this?
You tell me.
He slumped into the chair.
I bought a flat, he admitted, voice flat.
For who?
A pause. Then: Sophie.
Sophie. Of course. Some girl hed met on a work retreat last year. Nineteen, tattoos, piercingshis midlife crisis on a motorbike. Hed been obsessed, then heartbroken when she dumped him. I thought it was over. Then she called him back.
Shes pregnant, he said, like that excused it.
I stood, gripping the windowsill. So your mistresss child matters, but your son doesnt? Fine. Tomorrow, youll sign your half of our house over to Michael. Ill file for divorce. And if you fight me, Ill ruin you.
He tried to crawl back, of course. Lingered outside, bombarded me with texts. Useless. The divorce went through. And Sophie? She had the babya girl with distinctly Asian features. Not his.
Karma, I suppose.
