Youre an orphan, who will stand up for you? the husband sneered, shoving me out of the doorway.
Wheres the money you gave me yesterday? Daniel burst into the kitchen, his face flaming red with anger.
Emily turned from the stove, where mince patties sizzled in a pool of fat.
What money? You never gave me anything.
Dont lie! Five thousand pounds for groceries! I left it on the nightstand in the bedroom.
Dan, I didnt take that cash. Maybe you misplaced it.
Ive looked everywhere! It isnt there! You must have taken it and spent it on your trinkets!
Emily switched off the burner and wiped her hands on her apron. After four years of marriage she was used to such accusations, but each one still cut deep.
Dan, I didnt touch your money. I have my own salary, why would I steal?
Salary? he snorted. Your pocketchange from the shop? That isnt a salary, its an allowance!
At the doorway appeared the motherinlaw, Margaret Hughes. She had moved in six months earlier after selling her flat, claiming the cash shed saved was invested in her sons business, although Daniels only job was as a manager at a construction firm.
Whats all this ruckus? she asked, glancing around the kitchen. Another argument?
Mother, she stole my five thousand pounds! Daniel shouted.
I didnt steal anything, Emily whispered.
Margaret stepped closer, scrutinising Emily from head to toe.
Dan didnt give me any cash yesterday. He handed it to me for safekeeping because you, dear, cant handle money. Youd waste it all.
Emily felt a knot tighten in her chest. Again they were against her.
If you took the money, just say it. Why accuse me?
Are you calling my mother a thief? Daniel snapped.
I never said that. I just want the truth.
Theres nothing to discuss, Margaret said, pulling a few tenpound notes from her coat pocket. Heres the money. I took it so you wouldnt spend it on nonsense. Dan, take it and buy yourself a decent shirt, not the ragged one you wear to work.
Daniel slipped the notes into his pocket without looking at Emily.
Thanks, Mum. You always look out for me.
Emily stayed silent, the sting inside her barely concealed. In that house any display of feeling was turned against her.
The patties are burning, Margaret observed. Everythings falling apart. The housewife cant manage a thing.
Emily flipped the patties, which were indeed blackening on one side, and steadied her breath. No crying, no outburst, just the work she had to do.
Four years earlier things had been very different. Daniel had courted her with flowers, took her out for coffee, and treated her like a queen. Emily worked as a shop assistant in the same store she still worked ata modest job with no qualifications, no connections. She had grown up in a childrens home, later moving into a university dormitory after leaving school. Life had been hard, but it was hers.
Then Daniel appearedgoodlooking, confident, with a solid job. He noticed her when he came into the shop for groceries, started chatting, joking, and inviting her out. Emily could hardly believe her luck; a man like him and a girl from a care home, without family, seemed an impossible match.
Their wedding was modest. Only Emilys flatmate attended from her side, while Daniels mother, a few relatives and friends came from his. Margaret watched Emily with barely hidden disapproval, but kept it to herself.
After the ceremony Emily moved into Daniels twobedroom flat in a suburban estate. She kept her job, tended the home, and tried to be a good wife. Gradually, small criticisms began: the soup was too salty, the shirt not ironed properly, the money not allocated correctly. Soon accusations grewshe spent too much, dressed poorly, was ignorant.
When Margaret moved in, things deteriorated rapidly. She assumed the role of household ruler, critiquing every move Emily made, meddling in everything, and turning her son against his wife. Daniel always listened to his mother.
Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, Emily announced, setting the table.
Finally, Daniel said, slumping into his chair, phone in hand. Im starving.
Margaret inspected the spread.
The salad is watery, and theres hardly any bread. Are you trying to skimp on food?
I bought exactly what we needed for the week, according to the list you made.
Dont argue with your elders. Young people today have no respect.
The meal passed in tense silence. Daniel ate without chewing, Margaret muttered her displeasure, and Emily hardly touched her plate. After dinner she washed the dishes while the motherinlaw and son lounged in the living room, laughing at the television. Emily felt like a servant rather than a partner.
That night Daniel went to bed without a goodnight. Emily lay awake, wondering when she had become so unhappy, when she had stopped being a beloved wife and become a burden.
The next morning she rose early as usual, prepared breakfast, and packed Daniels lunch. He left muttering something incomprehensible.
Emily, we need to talk, Margaret said as Emily finished her tea.
Im listening.
This flat is too small for three of us. Were cramped.
Yes, I understand, but we cant afford a bigger place.
Thats why we think you should stay elsewhere for a whilemaybe rent a room. You have a salary, after all.
This is my husbands flat. Im his wife.
Wife? Margaret smirked. What kind of wife? You cant have children, youre useless around the house, youre not beautiful. Dan could do better.
Daniel chose me, Emily replied quietly.
He made a mistake. People make mistakes, but they must be corrected.
Youre suggesting I leave my husband?
Im suggesting you make his life easier. You dont have to divorce; just live apart. It might be for the best.
Emily stood, hands trembling, but kept her composure.
Ill speak to Daniel.
Talk, talk. Hell agree with me. Its his idea.
All day at work Emily replayed the conversation. Did Daniel really want her gone? Did four years mean nothing?
That evening she arrived home earlier than usual. Daniel was seated with his mother, drinking tea.
Dan, I need to speak with you alone.
Speak in front of Mum, she already knows everything.
Its about us.
He sighed, stood, and went to the bedroom. Emily followed, closed the door behind her.
Your mother said you want me out. Is that true?
Daniel turned to the window.
Yes. We need space. Mums here, Im uncomfortable, and you just take up room.
Im your wife!
Wife who hasnt given me a child in four years, who brings home a meagre wage. What use are you?
Ive had medical tests; theres nothing wrong with me. You
Silence! This is your faultyour orphan background!
My parents died in a car crash when I was three. Im a normal, healthy person.
Normal? No family, no roots. I married a fool, regretted taking in an orphan, and now youre a burden.
Tears welled, but Emily held them back.
So you want a divorce?
I want you gone. Just go now, and well see what happens later.
Where should I go?
I dont know. Back to the dormitory, or rent a room. Its your problem.
Dan, I love you. We can try again
Its too late, Emily. Pack your things.
When?
Tomorrow. You have the evening to gather your things.
Daniel left, leaving Emily alone on the bed they had shared for four yearsa place where she once dreamed of children and a happy future. Everything collapsed in an instant.
She began stuffing a bag with clothes, documents, a few pounds she kept hidden, photos, bookshardly anything.
Margaret peeked in.
Smart, you understand. No need for drama.
I dont want drama, Emily said, still folding clothes.
Exactly. Slip out quietly, and Dan will find someone proper from a respectable family.
Emily said nothing. Margarets scorn was unrelenting.
In the morning Emily dressed, grabbed her bags, and slipped out while Daniel slept. Margaret asked, Leaving?
Yes.
Leave the keys on the table.
Emily placed the keys on the kitchen counter and stepped into the hallway, pausing at the door, looking back at the flat that had been her home for four years. It would never be hers again.
She descended the stairs, out onto the street at dawn, the city still quiet. Where to go? The dormitory she once lived in was now full, and renting a room required money she barely hadjust a few hundred pounds.
She went to work early, hoping to earn enough for a new place. The shop was warm and quiet. She slipped into the staffroom, sat on a crate, and placed her bags beside her. She wanted to cry but the tears wouldnt come; only emptiness remained.
Emily? Why are you up so early? Veronica, the store manager, appeared in the doorway. She was in her fifties, strict but fair.
Just couldnt sleep.
Veronica narrowed her eyes, noticing the bags.
Whats happened?
Nothing, really.
Dont lie. Ive known you four years; I can spot a lie a mile away. Talk.
Emily recounted the husband, the motherinlaw, being thrown out. Veronica listened, shaking her head.
Theyre monsters, she said finally. Im sorry.
Dont know what to do.
My daughter moved to another city; her flat is empty. Stay with me for a while, sort things out.
Its too much
Enough. Call me Vera, not Veronica. Im not your boss now.
Emily felt tears finally spill down her cheeks. Someone was on her side, offering help without expecting anything.
That evening they drove to Veras modest twobedroom flat on the towns edge. The spare room was tiny, with a narrow bed, a desk, and a wardrobe.
Make yourself at home. The beds fresh, I changed the sheets yesterday. If you need anything, just ask.
Thank you so much. I dont even know how to thank you.
No need. We all go through rough patches. I was helped once, now I help.
Emily unpacked, arranging her few belongings, feeling a strange peace in the unfamiliar space. No one judged, no one blamed.
The next day Daniel called.
Where are you? I need to collect the rest of my things.
Ive taken everything.
Theres still a box left. Can you come today?
I cant. Work runs late.
Tomorrow then. My mother needs space for her stuff.
He hung up without a courtesy, just the cold logistics of a breakup.
Emily returned to work, saving every penny. The manager, Vera, had spoken to the stores director, Mrs. Margaret Clarke, who arranged a small hardship grant and a modest bonus for the month, enough for a deposit on a room.
On a Monday, Emily met Mrs. Clarke, who listened to her story and said, Those bastards. Ill get you the money. She handed Emily the cheque, smiling kindly.
Later that week a stranger named Tamara called.
Emily? Im Tamara, sister of Margaret Hughes. I heard what happened and I disagree with how my sister treated you. If you need any help, let me know.
Emily was surprised.
No, thank you, but why?
My first marriage fell apart, I was evicted too. I understand.
Tamara offered a sympathetic ear, sharing her own hardships, and promised to help if needed.
Within a week Emily found a room in a shared house for a reasonable price. The landlady, Mrs. Zina, was an elderly woman with a gentle smile.
Live peacefully, love. Keep it tidy, and youll be fine.
Emily moved in, hung her pictures, set her books on the shelf. The space was tiny, modest, but hersfree from contempt and accusations.
Daniel sent a final message confirming the divorce. Emily accepted the terms, asking for nothing, simply wanting the chapter closed.
Three months later Emily settled into her new routine: work, modest home, occasional tea with Vera and Zina, and a growing circle of supportive friends. One afternoon a man named Michael entered the shop, tall, spectacled, with a kind face. He bought groceries, asked for advice, and returned the next day, then again.
You always help customers so attentively, he remarked.
Its part of the job.
More than thatyou truly care. Thats rare.
Michael was a teacher, recently divorced, living alone. They began chatting, then meeting for coffee.
Im not sure, Emily admitted, blushing. Ive just divorced.
Thats fine. Lets just talk, no expectations.
Their meetings grew, walks in the park, gentle conversations, and occasional laughter. Michael never pressed about her past, never judged.
One evening they sat on a bench as the sun set.
Emily, I want you to know something. I dont care that you have no parents or where you grew up. What matters is who you are. Youre kind, honest, strong.
Strong? Emily smiled faintly. I dont feel strong.
You are. You survived betrayal, eviction, a divorce, and you rebuilt your life. That is strength.
Michael took her hand. Thank you for being in my life.
She whispered, Thank you.
Later they saw Daniel on the street, arminarm with Lena, his new girlfriend, visibly pregnant.
Whats up? Daniel sneered.
Living fine, Emily replied evenly.
Lena tugged Daniel away.
Come on, love.
They walked off, and Emily watched them go without a flicker of hurtjust calm indifference.
That night she told Michael about the encounter.
Did it hurt? he asked.
No, Im over it.
Good. Letting go is healthy.
He squeezed her hand. Youre a good person, Emily. Youve turned suffering into resilience. Thats what matters.
Emily realized that while her biological family was gone, she had gathered a new one: Vera, Zina, Tamara, Michael, and the colleagues who stood by her. She understood that true family isnt about blood but about those who stand beside you when life is harsh.
The lesson she carried forward was this: even when the world seems to abandon you, there are always people willing to step in, to help, to love you for who you are. And that, more than any inheritance or lineage, is the real wealth that sustains a life.
