I still remember the day I threw my exhusband and his mother out of the doorway when they came back hoping to make peace.
Mrs. Harris, do you realise complaints are being filed against you? Thats the third this month! You cant work like that!
Mrs. Harris stood in the matrons office, fists clenched, cheeks flushed, a lump in her throat.
Im doing everything by the book, Miss Clarke. That Miss Crutch nitpicks every little thing. Shes never satisfied.
Whether its temperament or not, you must speak to patients politely. Youre a nurse, not
Not what? Mrs. Harris snapped harsher than she intended. Not a wornout rag that has to endure rudeness?
The matron sighed, pushed up her spectacles and rubbed her bridge of the nose.
Veronica, I know youre going through a rough patch. A divorce is always hard. But work is work. Take a holiday, get some rest, otherwise I dont know how to protect you any longer.
Veronica left the office, tears barely held back. A halfyear had passed since Ian walked out, and the wound still ached. Every day felt like a trial: the ward, the empty flat where her own footsteps echoed back at her.
In the oncall room Lucy, her only confidante, waited.
Whats happened now? Lucy asked sympathetically.
I was offered a holiday. They say Im on the edge.
Maybe you really should take it. Get away somewhere, clear your head.
Veronica shook her head.
Whats the point? Ians alimony is a pittance, and his mother has shoved some bogus contracts on me, claiming his income is tiny and the flat is in her name.
Wretch, Lucy muttered. I told you not to sign those papers.
I thought we were a family. I never imagined he could do something like this.
Veronica poured tea from a thermos, sank into a worn chair, hands trembling. She was exhaustedfrom the job, from the endless thoughts, from the constant ache in her chest.
Lucy, have I really changed? Am I becoming spiteful?
Lucy rested a hand on her shoulder.
Veronica, youre just defending yourself. After twenty years with a man, he leaves for a younger woman with no children. Who wouldnt feel angry?
I dont want to be angry, Veronica finally broke, tears streaming down her cheeks. I just want a normal life, without this pain.
That evening she walked home on foot to save on transport. October was cold and wet; soggy leaves clung to her shoes, wind slipped under her coat collar. She stared at the ground, lost in thought.
When Ian left, she could not believe it. It seemed a nightmare from which she would wake and find everything as it had been: him returning from work, hanging his coat, asking what was for dinner, sharing the days stories. But he never came back. Instead his mother, Nina Parker, arrived with papers and a frosty stare, claiming Ian needed space, that Veronica had smothered him, that love had long since faded.
You see, the flat is in my name, Nina said, tapping the table with her finger. Im not evicting you, just live until you find somewhere else.
Veronica whispered, I lived here twenty years. Ian and I renovated, bought furniture
Bought with my money, the motherinlaw snapped. Never forget, Ian is my son and Ill always be on his side.
Silence fell. Veronica packed her belongings and moved into a council flat on the edge of townsmall, dim, shared kitchen scented with cats, a neighbour who drank far too much. It was her space, no one could strip it away.
She spotted a familiar black sedan outside the building entrancea car Ian had bought six months earlier. Her heart tightened.
Climbing the stairs she heard voices. On the landing, Ian and Nina stood, the mother gesturing wildly, her son nodding.
Ivan! Ian called the moment he saw her. Finally! Weve been waiting an hour.
Veronica fumbled for her keys, but Nina blocked the doorway.
Wait, we need to talk.
Theres nothing to discuss, Veronica tried to stay calm, though she trembled inside. Please, let us pass.
Veronica, dont be like that, Ian stepped forward, looking older, eyes sunken, cheeks hollow. We came to make peace.
Veronica froze. Make peace? she repeated slowly.
Yes, Nina cooed, her voice syrupy. His sweetheart left him, realizing she was after his money. Hes repentant and wants to return.
Return, Veronica echoed, the word bouncing around her mind.
Its home, Nina continued. Were a family, after all. Twenty years together, we cant just toss it all away.
Ian reached out, but Veronica stepped back.
Lets go inside, talk properly. Ill explain everything.
Explain what? Veronicas anger rose like a boil. What you did, sneaking out in the night, saying you loved another? Or how your mother threw me out of the flat I poured my heart into?
Veronica, stop, Nina snapped, pursing her lips. Were here with good intentions.
Good intentions? Veronica laughed, a harsh, bitter laugh. You only came because your son sat alone, because the girl he chased turned out smarter than me. She used him and dumped him, and now you expect me to take him back? Is that it?
You dont understand, Ian began, but Veronica cut him off.
I know exactly what you said six months agothat I smothered you, that theres no love left, that you need space. And you were right.
I
No, let me finish. I did smother you. I ironed your shirts for thirtyfive years, cooked your favourite meals, endured your mothers constant meddling. I gave up my career because you wanted a housewife. I never bore children, and I took the blame from your mother that I was defective.
I never said those things, Ians face went pale.
You didnt say them, but you were silent while your mother humiliated me. Silent when I wept.
Nina exhaled loudly.
Enough, Veronica. Ian is apologising. Hes realised his mistake. Isnt that enough?
It isnt enough, Veronica looked straight into Ninas eyes. Do you know what I realised in these six months? Im finally living for myself. Yes, its hard. Yes, Im in a council flat and money is tight, but this is my life. No one can tell me Im wrong.
Maybe we should go in? Ian asked, glancing at the neighbours door, where footsteps echoed.
In? For you theyre strangers. For me theyre neighbours who treat me better than you and your mother ever have.
What a cheek! Nina shouted. I was a mother to you!
A mother does not throw a woman out onto the street, nor take away the roof over a woman who cared for her son for twenty years.
The flat is mine on paper!
On paper, perhaps. But not in conscience.
Conscience is irrelevant. The law is the law.
Veronica nodded.
Youre right. The law is the law. I ask for nothingno flat, no money, no apologies. Just leave and never appear in my life again.
Ivan, wait, Ian grabbed her wrist. I truly regret. I was foolish. That Christina
Not interested, Veronica released his hand. What she was called, what she did, why she leftit matters not to me. Do you understand? Absolutely not.
But we spent years together! We had love!
Yes, I loved. You, apparently, loved something elseconvenience, habit.
She turned to the door, slipped the key into the lock, her hands steadier now. A strange calm settled over her, a peace that had eluded her for months.
Say it to her! Nina nudged Ian. Dont just stand there like a statue!
Mum, hold on
I didnt sit in traffic for two hours just to be driven away by a stubborn woman! Youll regret this, Veronica! Men like my Ian are hard to find!
Veronica faced Nina, her painted face, expensive coat, the way she always commanded her son. She then looked at Ian, head bowed like a guilty schoolboy.
Youre right, Mrs. Parker, she said softly. Men like that are scarce. Thats why Ill stop searching for them. Enough.
Youll regret it! the mother shrieked. Who will you need at your age? Fortythree, youth is gone. Youll be alone!
Perhaps, Veronica shrugged. But better alone than with those who never value you.
She opened the door and stepped through, pausing one last time.
Ivan, I bear you no ill will. Truly. Live happily if you can, but without me.
Ivan, wait
She shut the door, leaned against it, closed her eyes. Behind her, muffled voices drifted, Ninas protests, Ians quiet replies, then the clatter of a lift.
Veronica entered her tiny room, slipped off her shoes, collapsed onto the bed. The silence was profound, yet it didnt frighten her; it felt like a weight finally lifted.
Her phone buzzed. Lucys name flashed.
Hows it going? Dealt with Crutch?
Veronica smiled as she typed back, Handled it. And more.
She rose, walked to the window. Night had fallen, street lamps flickered, the city thrummed with life. Cars rolled by, people hurried about. She was part of that flow nowno longer anyones wife or daughterinlaw, simply Veronica.
The next morning sunlight filtered through a thin curtain. She wondered whether yesterday had been real or a dream, but it was real. Ian and his mother had stood at her door, seeking reconciliation, and she had turned them away.
She did her morning exercises, a habit shed kept for six months: jogging at dawn, signing up for a local yoga classnot to impress anyone, but because she finally had time for herself.
At work Lucy noticed a change.
Youre radiant, she said. What happened?
Ivan came, with his mother.
What? And what did he want?
Peace. He said he was sorry, wanted to come back.
And you?
I sent them away. Politely, but firmly.
Lucy whistled, then embraced her.
Youre brilliant. Im proud of you.
Veronica thought, I spent twenty years in the shadow of his wishes, his mothers meddling. I forgot who Veronica is, what she loves, what she wants.
What do you want now? Lucy asked.
Im not sure yet. I just know I wont go back to what was. It feels like breaking out of a cagescary at first, strange, then you realise you can fly.
Beautifully put, Lucy smiled. And if he shows up again?
He wont. I saw his face; he expected me to throw myself at his feet, thank him for returning. When that didnt happen, he was lost. Men like that cant fight for anything; they expect everything to be handed to them.
The following week Veronica went to the matrons office.
Miss Clarke, about the holiday. I think I truly need a week off.
Of course, Veronica. Well arrange it for next week. Where to?
To my sisters village. I havent visited in years.
Her sister Grace lived in a tiny hamlet three hundred miles from the city. Their childhood home was simple, wooden, smelling of apple pies and fresh herbs. A ginger cat purred in a corner, geraniums perched on the windowsill.
Youve thinned, dear, Grace said, pouring tea.
Just in a hurry, Veronica replied tersely.
Good heavens! I always said that Ian wasnt right for you. Hes a mothers boy, a drudge.
Grace!
What? Im telling the truth. You spent twenty years catering to him and his mother, and they tossed you aside when a new lover appeared.
Veronica chuckled. The funniest part is they came to make peace after that girl left him.
And you sent them packing? Grace asked.
Exactly.
Grace nodded approvingly. Now live for yourself. Youre still young, beautiful. Lifes ahead.
Im fortythree, Grace. What life is there?
Does life end at fortythree? Nonsense. My neighbour is fiftyeight and married a widower last year. Theyre happy as clams.
Veronica spent ten days with Grace: walking the woods, picking mushrooms, helping with the garden. Grace never pried about the past, offered no advice, just presence.
One evening, on the porch, sipping honeysweet tea as the sun set in pink hues, Grace asked, Veronica, ever thought of moving here?
To the village? Why?
Its quieter. My house is big enough, theres work at the local clinic. Pay is lower than the city, but the stress is gone.
Veronica pondered. A village, peace, no bustling streets, no chance encounters with Ian.
Leaving everything behind is daunting, she admitted.
What would you be leaving? The council flat? The job that doesnt value you? The city where every corner could hold a reminder of him?
She said nothing, the thought lodged itself firmly.
Returning to the city, fatigue settled over her like a heavy fog. Grey skies, dirty streets, crowds hurrying. The council flat smelled of mould and a shouting neighbour.
Nothing at work changed. Crutch still complained, Miss Clarke still sighed. Lucy welcomed her back, but noticed Veronicas distant stare.
Whats on your mind? Lucy asked over lunch.
Grace suggested I move to the village.
And youll go?
Im not sure. It feels like running away, but maybe thats exactly what I needa fresh start.
Lucy fell silent.
Ill support whatever you choose, Veronica. But think it through. Village life is different. Youll have your own pace. No regret?
I might regret staying here, but I might also regret leaving.
The decision came one evening as Veronica walked home from work and spotted Ian outside a shop window, arm in arm with a young woman not the one hed left her for, but someone new. They laughed, talking loudly, oblivious to her stare.
She froze. Six months had passed since their hallway confrontation, and now he was already with another. She expected him to mourn forever, but he moved on swiftly.
Ian saw her, his face flickered, then steadied. The young woman asked something, he answered without taking his eyes off Veronica, then they passed without a greeting.
Veronica stood in the street and laughed, a sudden, liberating laugh that turned heads. She laughed because at last she understood she didnt need that life, those people, that pain.
The next day she handed in her resignation.
You serious? Lucy asked, disbelief in her voice.
Absolutely. Im heading to Graces. Starting a new life.
What about the flat? Your things?
Not many. Ill take what I need, give away the rest.
Lucy hugged her.
Ill miss you. Promise youll call.
I promise.
Packing took a week. Two suitcases and a bag held everything she owned.
On her last walk through the city she visited the park where she and Ian once strolled, lingered by the house they never truly called home.
On the bus, she watched the familiar landscape drift by. The city stayed behind; ahead lay the unknown, but Veronica felt no fear. For the first time in many years she was unafraid.
At the bus station, Grace waited.
Here for good? she asked.
Yes, for good, Veronica replied, finally smiling genuinely, without bitterness.
Life in the village proved not easy, but Veronica never regretted her choice. She took a position at the local health centre, rented a modest cottage near Graces, and evenings were spent on the porch with tea, chatting about everything and nothing.
Sometimes she recalled the day she shut the door on Ian and his mother, remembering the shaking hands, the fear of being alone. Now she understood that moment had marked the true beginning of her life a life where she finally became the main character.
