13May
Dear Diary,
Shes on the edge of the sofa, fingers twitching the fringe of the throw. After tonights shouting match I could swear shed like to evaporate, to slip out of my life for good. A divorce is possible, but I never muster the courage to file the papers. Two years together now feel like a nightmare, especially these past six months. Ive become a tyrant of our flat, finding fresh reasons each day to pick apart everything she does.
This morning began with something so trivial it might have been harmless. She ordered a new face cream online.
Again spending money on frivolities? I snapped when she came back with the parcel.
She tried to explain, but I was already on the warpath.
Do you ever think about us? Or only about yourself, love? That cream could have been put to better useperhaps helping my mother.
She pleaded, James, why start like that? I work, I earn my own money. I always chip in for your parents, you know that.
I retorted, What are you doing? Sending pennies to them! They need real support, not your selfish splurges. Youre an egoist, Emma. Almost everything you earn ends up on those little jars for your face!
My voice rose; my eyes flashed. She broke down in tears, and I slammed the front door, leaving her alone with her sobs and a crushing sense of powerlessness. Ive always done thatpush her to the limit and then walk away.
She recalls how it all began. I once seemed perfect: attentive, caring, loving. Something shifted, or perhaps she never saw the real me before.
That evening I returned to find her at the kitchen table, tea in hand.
Did you cry again? I asked without looking up.
No you just hurt me, she whispered.
I hurt you? Youre the one at fault. You need to think about what youre doing.
What am I doing wrong? she asked quietly.
Everything! You never try. I work hard, Im exhausted, and you? You spend half the day at the keyboard, the rest lounging around!
I work too, not less than you, she shot back, then immediately regretted it.
My job pays peanuts! Im the one keeping this family afloat. You should be grateful, Emma. Ive never heard you thank me, even though Ive earned it!
I appreciate you, James but that doesnt give you licence to speak to me like that.
How am I supposed to speak to you? Youre always dissatisfied, always crying. Why do you paint me as a monster?
James youre constantly unhappy. Im terrified to say a word, to buy anything, even to rest after lunch. If you find out Ive taken a nap, youll start shouting straight away! My nerves arent steel; I cant control myself any longer.
Stop whinging! You always play the victim. It makes me sick!
His contempt cut deeper than any blow.
I dont understand whats happening, she whispered, why are you like this?
Just behave, dont annoy me and everything will be fine.
I saw no warmth left in her eyes, only irritation.
Maybe we should see a counsellor? she suggested.
A counsellor? You need one, youre the one who fabricates problems out of thin air, I snapped.
That was the moment she decided she had to leave. She ate quickly, turned on the telly, and pulled out the old notebook where she began drafting an escape plan, every detail meticulously noted.
***
The next day she left the flat earlier than usual, heading for a café on Oxford Street to clear her head. Over a coffee she opened the notebook and wrote:
Step one: find parttime work. Need more cash than I have now.
Step two: rent a modest flat or a room.
Step three: gather belongings.
Step four
A familiar voice called, Emma?
She lifted her eyes to see Lucy, a schoolmate from Birmingham, smiling.
Lucy! What a surprise!
Its been ages. What are you up to? Working here?
No, just needed a quiet spot to think, Emma replied evasively.
You look off. Something wrong? Feeling ill?
Emma hadnt heard genuine concern in years. She hadnt complained to her own family, not wanting to upset them, while I had quietly pushed everyone away. Overwhelmed, she broke down:
Lucy, everythings terrible. James constantly torments me, criticises and humiliates me. I cant take it any longer. Im scared hell start hitting during the fights.
Lucy listened, never interrupting.
I want to leave him, Lucy! I really do, but Im terrified. I dont know where to start, how to survive.
Run, Emma! I wont let you go alone. Come stay with me; you know my address, right? And there are free counselling services for women suffering under abusive partners.
I didnt know about those, Emma confessed.
Now you do. Most importantly, believe in yourself. Youre strong; youll get through this.
After work they met again, and a twohour talk left Emma feeling like a new person.
***
That evening James was already in his favourite armchair, glued to the telly.
Where have you been? he asked without turning.
Out for a walk, she answered.
Youre out there a lot lately. Got a lover?
A cold shiver ran through her.
What are you implying? she snapped.
If you were out, I wouldnt be surprised. Youre getting quite the reputation.
James, enough, she said, exhausted, I wont listen to this any longer.
What do you want to hear? Compliments? Youll have to manage without them.
She drew a deep breath, steadied herself.
James, we need to talk.
What about? My infidelities?
No, about us. About our marriage.
And what now?
I want a divorce.
He stared, bewildered.
You said what?
I said I want a divorce. I cant live like this any more. You humiliate me, berate me. Im miserable beside you.
Youre mad! Divorce? Who will you be without me? No one! You should be grateful I still keep you under my roof.
I owe nobody anything. I deserve happiness.
Happiness? You think youll be happy without me? Youre wrong. Youre useless. Do you understand?
Emma stayed silent, no longer willing to argue. She had made her decision.
Im leaving tomorrow, she said calmly.
Where will you go? Youre penniless!
Thats none of your business. Ill manage.
Ill make sure you never leave! Ill find you and make you regret ever being born! Youre a shameless I gave you everything, I raised you in society, and you!
She said nothing, turned, and headed to the bedroom to pack.
James spent the night on the sofa. Emma lay awake, staring at the ceiling, thoughts tumbling. Fear of the future, of being alone, of never finding happiness plagued her, but the greatest terror was staying with James.
Morning came early. She washed up, dressed, and walked into the kitchen. James was already sipping coffee.
You wont go anywhere, he declared, dont even think of running while Im at work!
Ive already decided, she replied.
I wont let you!
Enough, James
You dont understand what Im saying!
He rose, moved toward her. Fear tightened her chest.
Dont come near me, she pleaded, James, step back!
He shoved her against the wall. Her head struck the plaster and she collapsed. The man I once loved raised his fist. My eyes shut, bracing for the worst.
The neighbours, hearing the earlymorning screams, called the police. Officers arrived, rescued her, and took her to the hospital. Once discharged, Emma filed for divorce straight away. Our marriage crumbled into dust.
—
Looking back, I realise that power used in anger only shatters the very thing you claim to protect. I have learned that respect, not control, is the foundation of any partnership. The lesson I carry forward is simple: love cannot thrive where fear reigns.
