Emily was perched by the floortoceiling window of her twelfthfloor office, watching London glow under a spring sun. Five years ago she never imagined shed end up in a spacious suite with panoramic panes and a brass nameplate that read Deputy Director of Development. She never thought shed feel alive again.
There was a time when she barely felt human.
It didnt happen all at once. The first two years of her marriage to James felt fairly ordinary. They’d met at a mutual friends party; he was charming, attentive, always bringing flowers and spinning grand plans for the future. Emily was climbing the ranks at a major logistics firm, fresh off a promotion and dreaming of a spot in the international division. Opportunities seemed to be everywhere.
Everything shifted after the wedding. At first it was trivial James asked her to have dinner ready earlier because his mother, Eleanor, was due to visit and wasnt used to waiting. Then Eleanor started dropping in more often, staying longer, and finding something wrong with every little thing: a speck of dust on the shelf, towels folded the wrong way, a tablecloth not ironed enough.
Emily, you know a good wife keeps the house in order, Eleanor would say with that sweet smile that made the room feel colder. James is used to things being tidy. I raised him that way.
A year in, James suggested Emily quit her job.
Why do you even need that work? he asked one night as she walked in at ten after a big negotiation. You come home exhausted, the house is a mess, theres no dinner. Find something simpler, closer to home. My salary is enough for us.
Emily tried to argue. She loved the challenges, the partners, the sense of growing competence. But James was adamant, and Eleanor backed him up.
Dear, a womans place is to tend the hearth, Eleanor said over tea in their kitchen. A career is a mans concern. Look at yourself those circles under your eyes, the sagging skin. What man could stand that?
So Emily left. She took a dull admin job in a tiny office near home, a far cry from the highstakes world shed known, but now she could cook, clean, and iron Jamess shirts. It seemed like things might settle.
Instead, the demands grew.
Eleanor fell ill. First she claimed a back problem that stopped her from mopping, then a heart condition that prevented her from worrying, which meant Emily had to swing by and tidy Eleanors flat so she wouldnt stress over the mess.
Moms alone, you know, James would say. Is it really that hard to pop over once a week?
One visit turned into two, then three. Emily was like a moth in a flame: job, home, motherinlaw, back to work, cooking, laundry, cleaning. She slept like a dead weight and woke up shattered. In the mirror she saw a stranger dull skin, dim eyes and an extra fifteen kilos that had crept on from stresseating and latenight snacking.
One afternoon she walked past a boutique window and spotted a stunning teal dress. It was sleek, tailored, made of a light fabric that caught the light. She tried it on, caught a glimpse of her old self in the mirror, and bought it on the spot.
At home James exploded.
Are you out of your mind? he shouted, waving the receipt. £70 for a piece of cloth? Thats part of our family budget! You couldve bought a weeks worth of groceries with that!
Its my salary, Emily replied softly.
Yours? What does that even mean? Im the main breadwinner here, I decide where the money goes. Take that dress back.
She did, and the shop assistant looked at her with pity.
Emily started feeling suffocated. Nightmares of walls closing in haunted her. Her life had become a neverending string of other peoples expectations, leaving no room for herself. She couldnt even recall the last time she did something just for her own pleasure.
One evening, after James once again berated her for a bland soup, Emily finally said, I cant live like this any longer.
There was a heavy silence.
What do you mean? James asked slowly.
Im drowning. I dont feel human anymore. I want a proper job again, I want to live, not just serve everyone else.
James called his mother. Within the hour Eleanor was there, her face set in that familiar, icy stare.
She prowled the office, eyes flicking over Emilys crisp suit, the family photo on the desk a smiling bunch by the sea.
So youve actually managed to get yourself settled, she sneered.
Good afternoon, Eleanor, Emily replied evenly. Please, have a seat. Tea, coffee?
No thanks. Eleanor perched on the edge of a chair, scanning the room. Ive been looking for you for ages. Got a tip from a mutual friend.
What did you want to know? Emily asked.
Eleanor fell silent. In her eyes Emily saw a glimmer of triumph the hope that Emily was miserable, that her prophecy of a pitiful future had been right.
I just wanted to see how youre doing, Eleanor said, voice trembling.
Im fine, Emily answered. Im Deputy Director at the same company I left, married to a wonderful man, and we have two kids a fiveyearold daughter and a threeyearold son.
Eleanors face went pale.
Kids? Youre only thirtyfive Emily said.
Now Im forty. And Im truly happy.
Eleanor blurted out, James never remarried. He lives with me, claims all women are selfish, that a good one cant be found.
Emily felt a pang of pity for her.
Eleanor, why are you really here? Emily asked.
After a pause, Eleanors voice cracked with genuine confusion: How? How did you do it? You were supposed to be useless, broke, with no prospects
Emily walked to the window.
Want the secret? she turned back. Happiness belongs only to those who grow on their own, not to those who climb by stepping on others. You spent your life trying to control James, then me. I chose my own development, alongside a partner who wants to grow too.
But Eleanor stammered, eyes wide. You were nothing
I was always someone. You only saw what was convenient a free housekeeper, a caretaker, a pawn. Im a person with dreams, talents, the right to be happy.
Eleanor rose, looking frail and alone.
I thought I really thought that was how it should be.
Do you know the saddest part? Emily whispered. If youd just let me be myself, if James had seen me as a partner rather than a servant, we might still be together, and everyone would be happy. Control and happiness dont mix.
Eleanor, on the brink of the door, asked, You wanted to make sure I was unhappy, didnt you?
Yes, Eleanor admitted. I came to see you suffer. And you youre happy.
Yes, Emily said simply. Im happy, and I wish you and James happiness too but it will only come when you stop building it on other peoples misery.
Eleanor gave a small nod and left. Emily watched her go, then turned back to the window.
Below, a young couple strolled handinhand, laughing. Five years ago Emily would have watched them with envy, thinking happiness was only for others. Now she knew happiness is a choice a choice to be yourself, to not betray yourself, to grow rather than shrink. It takes courage to walk away when youre told to stay, to believe in yourself when everyone else tells you youre worth nothing.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Oliver: Picked the kids up from school. Lucy wants a cake. Can you make it before dinner?
Emily smiled, typed back, Leaving in an hour. Will grab some apples on the way. Love you all.
She glanced at the family photo, at the life shed built. The Emily whod been suffocated five years ago was now a different woman, but she still remembered that desperate version of herself and was grateful for it. It was that Emily who, in her darkest hour, found the strength to say, I cant keep living like this, and took the first step toward the light.
Outside, the spring sun bathed London in golden light, promising warmth, growth, and a fresh start. Emily gathered her papers, shut down the computer, and headed for the exit.
Home waited a place where she could finally be herself.
