Youre an orphan, who will stand up for you? the husband sneered, shoving me out of the doorway.
Wheres the money I gave you yesterday? Daniel burst into the kitchen, his face flushed with rage.
Evelyn turned from the stove where the mince pies sizzled, droplets of fat hissing on the hot pan.
Money? I never gave you any.
Dont lie! £70 for groceries! I left it on the nightstand in the bedroom!
Daniel, I didnt take that cash. Look again, maybe you misplaced it.
Ive searched everywhere! Its gone! You must have spent it on your trinkets!
Evelyn turned the burner off, wiping her hands on her apron. Four years of marriage had taught her to brace for accusations, but each one still cut to the bone.
Daniel, I didnt take your money. I have my own salary, why would I steal?
Salary! he snorted. Your pocketmoney from the shop? Thats not a salary, thats an allowance!
At that moment Margaret, the motherinlaw, slipped into the doorway. Shed been living with them for six months after selling her flat, claiming shed invested the proceeds in her sons business, though Daniel simply worked as a manager for a construction firm.
Whats all this noise? she asked, sweeping her gaze over the kitchen. Another row?
Mum, she stole my £70!
I didnt steal, Evelyn repeated softly.
Margaret moved closer, appraising her daughterinlaw from head to toe.
Daniel never gave me any money yesterday. He handed it to me to keep safe because, dear, you cant handle cash. Youd waste it all.
Evelyn felt the walls close in. Again, they were united against her.
Margaret, if you took the money, just say it. Why blame me?
You think you can call my mother a thief? Daniel snapped.
I never said that. I just want the truth.
Theres nothing to discuss, Margaret said, pulling a few banknotes from the pocket of her housecoat. Here. I took them so you wouldnt waste them on nonsense. Daniel, take these and buy yourself a decent shirt; you cant go to work in those rags.
Daniel slipped the notes into his pocket without even looking at Evelyn.
Thanks, Mum. You always look out for me.
Evelyn stood, the sting of humiliation simmering beneath her calm exterior. In this house any display of feeling turned against her.
The pies are burning, Margaret observed. Everythings falling apart. This house needs a proper mistress.
Evelyn flipped the pies, trying to breathe evenly, to keep the tears at bay, to simply do her job.
Four years ago, everything had been different. Daniel had courted her with flowers and café dates. Evelyn worked in the same corner shop she still didjust a sales assistant, no qualifications, no connections. Orphaned as a child, shed earned a dormitory room after leaving the childrens home and a job to survive. Life was hard but hers.
Then Daniel appearedtall, confident, with a good job. Hed noticed her when he stopped in the shop for groceries, started chatting, joking, asking her out. Evelyn could barely believe her luck; a man like that, and she, a girl from a childrens home with no family.
Their wedding was modest. Evelyns side: only a roommate from the dorm. Daniels side: his mother, a few relatives, a handful of friends. Margaret watched Evelyn with thinlyveiled disapproval, though she hid it well.
After the ceremony Evelyn moved into Daniels twobedroom flat in a council estate. She kept working, managing the home, trying to be a good wife. Slowly, the cracks appeared.
First, petty criticisms: the soup was underseasoned, the shirt wasnt ironed properly, the money wasnt allocated correctly. Then the accusations grewshe spent too much, dressed poorly, was unschooled, unrefined.
When Margaret moved in, the atmosphere soured completely. She seized the role of household tyrant, berating Evelyns every move, turning Daniel against her, always siding with his mother.
Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, Evelyn announced, setting the table.
Finally, Daniel muttered, sinking into his chair, phone in hand. Im starving.
Margaret inspected the spread with a critical eye.
The salads watery, and theres hardly any bread. Are you skimping on food?
I bought exactly what we need for the week, according to the list you both wrote.
Dont argue with your elders. Young people today have no respect.
The dinner passed in tense silence; Daniel chewed mechanically, Margaret sighed repeatedly, and Evelyn barely touched her plate.
Afterward she washed dishes while Daniel and his mother lounged in the living room, laughing at the television. Evelyn felt like a servant tolerated in her own home.
That night Daniel went to bed without even wishing her goodnight. Evelyn lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering when she had become a burden rather than a beloved wife.
Morning came early, as usual. She prepared breakfast, packed Daniels lunch, and watched him leave muttering something unintelligible.
Evelyn, we need to talk, Margaret entered the kitchen as Evelyn finished her tea.
Im listening.
This flat is too small for three. Were cramped.
I know, but we cant afford a bigger place yet.
Thats why we think you should find somewhere else to stay for a while. Rent a room; you have a salary, after all.
This is my husbands flat. Im his wife.
Wife? Margaret smiled coldly. What kind of wife? You cant have children, youre useless around the house, youre not beautiful. Daniel could do better.
Daniel chose me, Evelyn whispered.
He made a mistake. People make mistakes; they need correcting.
Youre suggesting I leave my husband?
Im suggesting you give him some breathing room. Youre not divorcing; just living apart. Might be better for everyone.
Evelyn rose, hands trembling, but kept her composure.
Ill speak to Daniel.
Speak, speak. Hes already agreed with me. It was his idea.
All day at work Evelyn replayed the conversation, wondering if Daniel truly wanted her gone. Evening she arrived home early; Daniel and Margaret were sipping tea.
Daniel, we need to talk alone.
Talk in front of Mum, she already knows everything.
This is about us.
He sighed, went to the bedroom, and Evelyn followed, closing the door behind her.
Your mother said you want me out. Is that true?
Daniel turned to the window.
Its true. We need space. Mums here, Im uncomfortable, and you you just take up room.
Im your wife!
A wife who hasnt given you a child in four years, who earns a petty wage and brings home pocketchange. What use are you?
Daniel, the doctors said the problem isnt me. Its you
Shut up! he snapped, eyes flashing. Its your orphan background! Who knows whats in your family tree!
My parents died in a crash when I was three. Im a normal, healthy person!
Normal, he sneered. No family, no roots. I married you out of pity and now youre a burden.
Tears rose, but she swallowed them.
So you want a divorce?
I want you out. Just out.
Where am I supposed to go?
Back to your dormitory, or rent a room. Your problem.
Daniel, I love you. We can try again
Too late, Evie. Its settled. Pack your things.
When?
Tomorrow. You have the evening to gather your stuff.
He left, the door closing on her trembling form. Evelyn sank onto the bed theyd shared for four years, where shed once dreamed of children, of a happy future. Everything collapsed in an instant.
She began packing: clothes, documents, a few pounds shed hidden, photographs, books. Hardly anything was truly hers.
Margaret peered in.
Good, you understand. No drama, just quietly leave. Daniel will find someone proper, from a respectable family.
Evelyn said nothing, stuffing her bag.
In the hallway she left the keys on the table, turned, and paused at the doorway, looking back at the flat that had been her home for four years. She would never return.
She descended the stairs, out into the early morning streets of Manchester, almost empty. She had no family, no friends nearby, and only a few pounds to her name. She walked to the shop where she worked, hoping an early shift would give her a place to think.
Inside the store, the backroom was warm and quiet. She sat on a crate, bags at her feet, fighting tears that wouldnt come.
Evie? Why are you up so early? Verity, the store manager, appeared in the doorway, a woman in her fifties, firm but fair.
Cant sleep.
Verity studied the bags.
Whats happened?
Nothing. All fine.
Dont lie. Ive known you four years; I can tell when youre not. Tell me.
Evelyn spilled the whole storyher husband, her motherinlaw, the eviction. Verity listened, her head shaking.
Those bastards, she said finally. Im sorry.
I dont know what to do.
My daughter lives in Leeds; her flat is empty. You can crash with me until you get settled.
I cant
Stop the cant. Im not your boss, just Verity. Pack your things; well go after your shift.
Evelyn felt the first genuine tears break free, cheeks wet. Someone was on her side.
That evening they drove to Veritys modest twobedroom flat on the outskirts. The spare room was small, with a narrow bed, a desk, a wardrobe.
Make yourself at home, Verity said, pulling back the freshly made bedspread. If you need anything, just ask.
Thank you, truly. I dont know how to repay you.
No need. We all get help once.
Evelyn settled in, arranging the few belongings she owned. It was cramped, but it was hers, free of criticism.
The next day Daniel texted about the divorce papers. She signed, asked for nothing, just wanted closure.
Weeks passed; she adjusted to the new routinework, the modest flat, occasional coffees with Verity and other shop mates. One afternoon a man in his forties entered the shop, tall, glasses, kind eyes. He asked for advice on a product, and Evelyn helped him. He returned several times, always polite, always smiling.
You always go the extra mile for customers, he said one day.
I try. Its my job.
Its rare to meet someone who genuinely cares. Im Michael, a teacher.
He mentioned hed just been through a divorce, lived alone. They started chatting, then meeting for tea, then walks in the park. He never pried into her past, just enjoyed her company.
Its easy with you, Michael told her one evening on a bench. No drama, just peace.
I feel that too.
Their relationship grew, gentle and steady, giving Evelyn a glimpse of a life she thought shed lost.
Months later, she crossed paths with Daniel on the street. He was with Lena, his new girlfriend, visibly pregnant.
Hows life treating you? he said with a smirk.
Fine. Happy.
Youre still in that council flat?
At least no one belittles me there.
Lena tugged his sleeve.
Come on, Dan, lets go.
They walked away, and Evelyn watched them go, feeling neither anger nor sorrow, only a detached calm.
That night she sat with Michael, watching the sunset over the park.
I ran into my ex today, she said.
How do you feel?
Calm. No lingering feelings.
Youve let him go. Thats healthy.
He took her hand.
Youre strong, Evelyn. Youve survived betrayal, eviction, divorce, and youve rebuilt yourself. Thats real strength.
Strong? she laughed softly. I dont feel strong.
You are. Youve endured and kept moving.
She looked into his eyes, seeing warmth that Daniel never gave.
Thank you, she whispered.
No, thank you, for letting me in.
They sat together, the city lights flickering, knowing life could still be kind.
Evelyn realized that while she had no blood relatives, she now had people who stood up for herVerity, Michael, the shop colleagues, even a stranger named Tamara who called offering support after hearing about her situation. True family wasnt about genetics; it was about those who stood by you when you needed them most.
