Margaret Clarke gently pulls her daughters wedding dress from the wardrobe and smooths the ivory fabric, tears welling in her eyes. Emily returns home only three months after the lavish ceremony, emptyhanded, without a husband, without a smile and without belief in happiness.
Mother, can I move back in with you? Emily asks, voice trembling, standing on the doorstep with two suitcases.
Margaret embraces her silently and helps carry the bags upstairs. Questions can wait. She feels something irrevocably broken in her only childs life.
Now that Emily is back at work, Margaret cant shake the bitter memories. It all began so beautifully.
Emily meets James Turner at a New Years office party. A friend coaxed her to attend so she wouldnt spend the holiday alone. She resists at first, then finally agrees.
The tall darkhaired man with hazel eyes captivates her instantly. He courts her gently, brings flowers, arranges romantic outings. Overwhelmed by his attention, Emily cant say no. Six months later James kneels in a restaurant, in front of everyone.
Emily, will you be my wife? he asks, his voice sincere, sliding a velvet box with a ring across the table.
She smiles shyly. She hadnt expected a proposal, though she sometimes dreamed of it. The room holds its breath; Emily whispers, Yes.
The whirlwind wedding planning begins. James insists on a grand celebration.
My love, a wedding only happens once, he says passionately. I want everything perfect.
Emily would prefer something modest, but she yields to his wishes. He books an expensive venue, invites a host of his friends and colleagues, most of whom Emily meets for the first time.
Margaret sighs, recalling a kitchen conversation.
Darling, arent you rushing? she asked gently. Youve only known him a short while.
Dont worry, Mum! Im twentyeight. How long should I wait? Besides, James is so thoughtful and attentive. I cant find a better husband, Emily replies brightly.
Now she returns home with a dimmed gaze. What has happened?
James moves into Emilys onebedroom flat immediately after the wedding. He claims he was renting elsewhere, but now theres no point spending money when his young wife already has a flat.
Sweetheart, Ive started saving for our future home. Well endure the cramped space a bit longer and then buy something spacious, he tells her, kissing her on the temple.
Emily doesnt want to start married life discussing finances, so she agrees. Soon she discovers James lost his job before the wedding.
Why didnt you tell me? Emily asks, stunned after hearing it from a mutual acquaintance.
I didnt want to upset you before the wedding, James shrugs. Im actively looking for a new position, dont worry.
Weeks pass and James makes no effort to find work. He sleeps in late, spends most of the day at his computer pretending to send out resumes, and meets friends in the evenings. Emily works in accounts, leaves early and returns late, and the bulk of household chores fall on her shoulders.
James, could you take a temporary job while you search for something permanent? she suggests cautiously.
You want me to be a courier or a porter? he snaps. I have a degree and experience; I wont waste it on menial work.
One evening Emily arrives home early. From the hallway she sees Jamess silhouette in the window. She climbs the stairs, hears loud voices, and opens the door with her key, frozen at the threshold. A noisy crowd occupies her tiny flat: empty bottles, snacks on the table, blaring music.
Emily! Weve just been having a few drinks, James grins, trying to hug her.
He reekes of alcohol. Emily surveys the scattered dishes, dirty glasses, and silently retreats to the bathroom, locks herself in, and cries. What is happening to her life?
The next morning, after the guests have left and James sleeps soundly, Emily discovers her gold earrings a gift from her parents for her eighteenth birthdayare missing from the jewellery box. She wakes James.
Where are my earrings? she asks sharply.
What earrings? he mutters halfasleep.
The gold ones that were in the box.
James winces and sits up.
Oh, those I took them temporarily. I needed a little cash to borrow from a jeweller friend and planned to repay it straight away.
You sold my earrings? Emily exclaims.
No, I pawned them! he snaps. We need the money! I was going to get it back.
Where did the money go? she presses.
We were at the pub with the lads, he replies, turning away.
Emily sinks onto a chair. Her husband has squandered family money and even pawned her personal items to fund nights out, while she had been saving for a new sofa.
The problems snowball. It emerges that James has hidden loans he never mentioned before the wedding, and Emily ends up paying them. He concocts endless excuses for his unemployment and even hints that she should work more.
James, this cant continue, Emily says one day. We need to talk seriously.
What about? he asks irritably, not putting down his phone.
Our life. I work from dawn to dusk, pay the rent, buy groceries, and you she trails off.
What am I? Speak up, he says, his tone turning threatening.
You make no effort to improve our situation, Emily finishes quietly.
James leaps up, dropping his phone.
You think I should work for pennies? Be humiliated? Im your husband! he shouts.
After that argument their relationship grows even more strained. Emily begins staying later at work to spend less time at home. She constantly wonders if she made a mistake marrying so quickly.
James becomes irritable, shorttempered, snapping at any minor mistake. One night she forgets his favourite orange juice.
You never think of me! I only asked for juice, is that too much to remember? he roars, pacing the room.
Im exhausted, Im sorry, Emily whispers, feeling a chill run down her spine. She has never seen him this angry.
Everyone ignores my requests! he thumps his fist on the table, making Emily flinch.
A call from his friend diffuses the tension; his fury instantly changes to a forced smile. He answers, steps onto the balcony, and pretends everything is fine.
Day by day the situation worsens. Emily notices money disappearing faster than usual. One evening she checks her bank statement and sees a large sum withdrawn at a nightclub on a night James claimed he was staying with a mate.
Why are you watching me? he snaps when she confronts him with the statement. Cant I relax?
Relax on what money? Emily asks quietly.
It doesnt matter. Were a family, everythings shared! he retorts.
Something finally cracks in Emilys heart. She realises she never saw the real James; she only fell for the image he carefully crafted during the courting phase. The real James is lazy, irresponsible and perhaps dishonest.
The last straw is the story of her mothers ring. Margaret had given Emily a family heirlooma rubyset gold ring passed down through the women of the Clarke line. Emily kept it in a special box. One day, preparing for her aunts birthday, she opens the box and finds it empty.
Her heart stops. James, have you seen mums ring? she asks.
He averts his eyes and mutters, I needed the cash urgently. A friend got into trouble; I couldnt refuse. Ill repay him, I promise.
Emily drops onto a chair, the truth clear. There was no friend, no job search. He simply used her, lived off her money, and sold her possessions.
I want a divorce, she says softly.
Jamess face hardens.
You cant do that to me! he shouts. We vowed to stand together in sorrow and joy!
Sorrow was enough, Emily replies bitterly. I never got any joy.
Youll regret this! he threatens.
Fear grips her. That evening, while James is out with his mates, Emily gathers the few essentials she can and drives to her parents house. There, in her mothers kitchen, she finally breaks down, spilling the whole story of her brief marriage.
Mum, I was wrong! Why didnt I listen when you warned me not to rush? she sobs.
Margaret strokes Emilys hair and whispers, It will be alright, love. Youll find happiness again, youll see.
A week later, when Emily musters the courage to return for the remaining belongings, she finds the flat turned upside down. Appliances, jewellery, even some clothes are gone. James has taken everything he could sell and vanished.
Emily collapses on the floor amid the wreckage and, absurdly, laughsa bitter, raw laugh. Her marriage has crumbled into ruins, as has her home.
A month passes. Emily files for divorce. James never appears in court; rumors say he fled to Manchester. Emily is left to repay the loans James secured during their marriage, forged with her signature.
Margaret carefully folds the wedding dress back into the wardrobe. Perhaps one day Emily will wear a white dress again, meeting a worthy man. For now it lies as a reminder of a mistake not to repeat.
That evening, when Emily returns from work, her mother brews tea and says, You know, love, a wedding is just one day. Happiness is built over years, with someone who deserves it.
Emily manages a faint smile. Now I understand, Mum. Better to be alone than with someone who makes you miserable.
Each day Emily takes small steps toward a new life. She picks up a second job to clear the debts faster, enrols in a professional development course, and spends weekends in the park with friends she abandoned during the marriage.
One afternoon she scrolls through old photos and finds a wedding picture: she stands radiant in a white dress, bouquet in hand, James smiling beside her. At that moment she once believed in a fairytale. She stares at the image, then tears it apart.
The act is symbolic. She shreds not only the photo but also the illusion that happiness can be handed over on a wedding cake. Real joy must be built brick by brick, day by day, starting with oneself.
That night, for the first time in a long while, Emily sleeps with a light heart. She does not know what the future holds, but she resolves firmly: she will never again live by others expectations or make hasty decisions. She will have a chance to build a true, strong, happy familywhen the right person comes.
For now, she learns to be content on her own. Happiness isnt a stamp in a passport or a white dress; its a state of mind that doesnt depend on marital status. And Emily walks toward that state one sure step at a time.
