Vera Thompson stood in the matrons office, fists clenched, cheeks hot, a lump stuck in her throat.
Mrs. Thompson, do you realise youve already had three complaints this month? Thats not acceptable, the matron, Marie Spencer, said.
Vera tried to keep her voice steady. Im doing everything by the book, Marie. That nurse Clarke nitpicks at every little thing. Shes impossible to please.
Regardless of her temperament, you must speak to patients respectfully. Youre a nurse, not
Not what? Vera snapped, sharper than intended. A doormat that has to endure rudeness?
Marie exhaled, removed her glasses and rubbed her bridge of the nose wearily. I know youre going through a rough patch after the divorce, Vera. Its always hard. But work is work. Take some leave, rest a bit. Im not sure how much longer I can shield you.
Vera left the office, tears threatening to spill. A halfyear had passed since Ian left, and the wound still ached. Every day felt like a testshifts at the hospital, an empty flat echoing with her own footsteps, the silence of a life that had once been shared.
In the oncall room, her colleague and the only person she trusted, Lucy Bennett, waited.
Got any news? Lucy asked kindly.
The matron offered me a break. She says Im on the edge.
Maybe you really should go somewhere, get away for a while.
Vera shook her head. What would I do? Ians alimony is a pittance, and his mother, Nora, keeps sending paperwork saying his income is tiny and the flat is in her name.
Stubborn, Lucy sighed. I told you not to sign those papers.
I thought we were a family. I never imagined he could act like that.
Vera poured herself tea from a thermos, settled onto a worn chair, hands trembling. Lucy, have I really changed? Am I angry now?
Lucy placed a hand on Veras shoulder. Youre just protecting yourself. After twenty years together, its natural to feel bitter when he walks out for a younger woman without children.
I dont want to be bitter, Vera broke, tears streaming down her cheeks. I just want a normal life, free of this pain.
That evening she walked home on foot to save on transport. October was cold and damp; wet leaves stuck to her shoes, wind slipped under her jacket collar. She stared at the ground, lost in thought.
When Ian left, she could not accept it. It felt like a nightmare from which she would wake and find everything as it had been. She imagined him coming home, hanging his coat, asking what was for dinner, sharing the days storiesan ordinary, familiar routine.
Instead, his mother appeared at the door with a stack of documents and a frosty expression. Ian needs his own space, she said. Youve suffocated him with your care. Theres no love left in the marriage. Vera listened, barely recognising the woman she had called mother for years.
The flat is in my name, Nora declared, tapping the table. But I wont force you out. Stay until you can get on your feet.
Vera whispered, I lived here twenty years. Ian and I bought the furniture together
That was my money, Nora interrupted. Remember, Ian is my son and Ill always stand by him.
Silently, Vera packed a few belongings and moved into a small, dim council flat on the outskirts, sharing a kitchen that smelled of cats with a neighbour who struggled with alcohol. It was hersno one could take it away or tell her she didnt belong.
She spotted a familiar black sedan parked by the entranceIans car from six months ago. Her heart lurched.
Climbing the stairs, voices drifted from the landing. Ian and Nora stood there, Nora gesturing wildly, Ian nodding.
Vera! Ian called, relief in his voice. Weve been waiting for an hour.
She reached for her keys, but Nora stepped in front of her.
Wait, we need to talk first.
Theres nothing to discuss, Vera said, trying to stay calm. Please let me pass.
Nora, dont be so hard on her, Ian stepped forward, looking older, tired, dark circles under his eyes. We came to make amends.
Vera froze. Make amends? she repeated slowly.
Yes, Nora replied sweetly. Your daughter left you, realised she was only after money. He regrets it and wants to come back.
Come back? Vera echoed, the words feeling hollow.
Ian nodded and extended his hand, but Vera pulled away.
Lets sit down and talk properly, she suggested, though anger boiled inside.
What could you possibly explain, Ian? How you slipped out at night saying you loved someone else? Or how your mother threw me out of the home I built?
Dont start, Nora hissed. Were here with good intentions.
Good intentions? Vera laughed, a bitter sound. Youre here because your son is alone, because the girl he ran after turned out to be smarter than me. And now you expect me to welcome him back?
Ian tried to speak, but Vera cut him off.
Six months ago you said I smothered you, that there was no love left, that you needed space. And you were right.
No, Ian began, but Vera held up a hand.
I gave up my career because you wanted a housewife. I never had children because it never worked out, and I endured your mothers constant meddling. I was a perfect daughterinlaw, yet you never thanked me.
Ian turned pale.
Vera, I never meant those things, he whispered.
You never said them, but you stayed silent while your mother humiliated me, while I wept.
Nora sighed loudly. Enough, Vera. Hes apologising, isnt that enough?
Enough, Vera said, meeting Noras gaze. Do you know what Ive learned in these months? Im finally living for myself. Yes, Im in a tiny flat, my money is tight, but this is my life. No one can dictate how I should live.
Ian looked toward the neighbours door, where footsteps echoed. Should we go in?
Your neighbours are strangers to you, but theyre my neighbours now, and they treat me better than you ever did, Vera replied with a small smile.
Your mother has no right to kick you out, Nora shouted. The flat is legally mine!
Legally, perhaps, Vera answered. But conscience is another matter.
Nora snapped, The law is the law.
Vera nodded. Youre right, the law is the law. Im not asking for the flat, the money, or an apology. I just ask you both to leave and never return.
Ian grabbed her wrist. Im truly sorry, Vera. I was foolish. That girl Kristina
Enough, Vera said, pulling her hand free. I dont care who she was or why I was left. Its irrelevant now.
You loved me, didnt you? Ian pleaded.
I loved you once, Vera admitted. Now I love myself enough to walk away from men who only see me as convenience.
She turned the key, her hands steady. A calm she hadnt felt in months settled over her.
Go on, Mum, Nora urged, Dont be stubborn.
Vera glanced at her motherinlaws polished coat, her heavily madeup face, the way she commanded her son. She looked back at Ian, head bowed like a guilty schoolboy.
Youre right, Nora, Vera said softly. Good men are hard to find. Thats why I wont search for them any longer.
Youll regret this, youll be alone at fortythree, Nora warned.
Perhaps, Vera shrugged. But better alone than with someone who doesnt value you.
She opened the door, stepped out, and closed it behind her. The muffled voices continued inside, followed by the clatter of the lift.
In her tiny room, she slipped off her shoes, lay on the bed, and felt a strange peace in the silence. Her phone buzzed.
Hey, hows it going? Handled Clarke? Lucy asked.
Vera smiled, typing back, Handled her. And more.
She walked to the window, watching the street lights flicker on as night fell. Cars moved, people hurriedshe was part of the city now, not anyones wife or daughterinlaw, just Vera.
The next morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains. She wondered if the previous night had been a dream, but the memory of Ian and his mother at her door was vivid. She rose, did her morning stretches, and continued her routine of jogging and yoga at the community centrenot to impress anyone, but because she finally had time for herself.
At work Lucy noticed a change.
You look radiant, she said. What happened?
Iran and his mother showed up to reconcile, Vera replied. I sent them away, politely but firmly.
Lucy laughed, hugging her. Im proud of you.
Last night I stayed up thinking, Vera admitted, and realised Id spent twenty years living in his shadow, his mothers, his choices. I forgot who Vera is, what she wants.
What do you want now? Lucy asked.
Im not sure yet, but I wont go back, Vera said. It feels like breaking out of a cagescary at first, then you realise you can fly.
Lucy smiled. If he returns?
He wont. He expected me to fall at his feet, thank him for coming back. When that didnt happen, he was lost. People like that never learn.
The following day Vera asked Marie for a weeks leave.
Yes, Vera, where will you go? Marie inquired.
To my sisters in the countryside. Its been ages.
Her sister, Gail, lived three hundred miles away in a small village. The house was modest but cosy, smelling of fresh pies and apples. A ginger cat purred on the hearth, and geraniums lined the windowsill.
Youve slimmed down, Gail remarked, pouring tea.
Divorced, Vera answered shortly.
Great! I always said that Ian wasnt right for you. Hes a mothers boy, a pushover.
Gail!
Honestly, you spent twenty years serving him and his mother. When a new lover appeared, they tossed you aside.
Gails bluntness made Vera laugh.
The funny thing is, they came yesterday to make up. The girl he left for has now left him, so hes trying to return.
And you sent them packing? Gail asked.
Exactly.
Gail nodded approvingly. Now live for yourself. Youre still young, beautiful. Lifes ahead of you.
Im fortythree, Gail. What life?
Life doesnt stop at fortythree. My neighbour is fiftyeight and married a widower last year. Shes thriving.
Vera spent ten days with Gail, walking the woods, picking mushrooms, helping with chores. Gail never pried into the past, just kept company.
One evening they sat on the porch, sipping honey tea as the sun set, painting the sky pink.
Ever thought of moving here permanently? Gail asked.
To the village? Why?
Its quieter. My house is big enough, and the local clinic needs a nurse. Pay is lower than the city, but the stress is far less.
Vera considered the calm, the absence of reminders.
I dont know. It feels like giving up everything.
What would you be giving up? The shoddy council flat? A job that doesnt respect you? A city where every corner holds a memory of him?
Back in the city, the grey sky and bustling streets welcomed her once more. The council flat reeked of mould and a quarrelling neighbour. Work was unchangedClarke still complained, Marie still sighed. Lucy noticed Veras thoughtful stare at lunch.
Whats on your mind?
Gail suggested I move to the village.
And youll go?
Maybe its not running away. Maybe its a fresh start, exactly what I need.
Lucy paused. Whatever you choose, Ill support you.
Weeks later, as Vera left work, she saw Ian standing by a shop window, arm around a young woman who laughed at his jokes. He caught her eye, looked momentarily startled, then continued chatting without even a greeting.
Vera stood in the middle of the street, then burst into laughterlaughing at how little his presence meant now.
The next morning she handed in her resignation.
Youre serious? Lucy asked, eyes wide.
Absolutely. Im heading to Gails. Starting a new life.
What about the flat, your things?
Just a few essentials. Ill give away the rest.
Lucy hugged her. Promise youll keep in touch.
I promise.
Packing took a week. Two suitcases and a small bag held everything Vera owned. She walked the familiar park where she and Ian once strolled, lingered by the old apartment door, and finally boarded a bus heading north. The city receded, the countryside stretching ahead, and for the first time in years Vera felt no fear.
At the bus station, Gail awaited.
Here for good? she asked.
Yes, for good, Vera answered, smiling genuinely, without bitterness.
Life in the village was not easy, but Vera never regretted the choice. She found work at the local health centre, bought a modest cottage near Gails, and evenings were spent on the porch with tea, chatting about everything and nothing.
Sometimes she recalled the night she shut the door on Ian and his mother, remembering how her hands shook as she turned the key. She once feared loneliness, but now understood that the moment she chose herself was the moment her real life began.
She learned that true freedom comes from deciding who you are, not from clinging to the roles others impose. The lesson stayed with her: when you stop letting others write your story, you become the author of a life worth living.
