She could not have changed that much! When I saw my former wife, I was struck dumb.
No, it cant be her, I muttered, staring at the glossy shop window of an upscale Mayfair restaurant. I cant believe Poppy could look so different. I lingered behind the display, trying not to be noticed.
Inside, a striking blonde sat by the window, typing thoughtfully on her laptop. A waiter placed a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and a raspberrystrawberry tart on the table.
How does she manage to look so polished? And that designer bracelet on her wristmust have cost a fortune. I clenched my jaw, slipping away from the entrance so she wouldnt see me.
***
Oliver Hart and Poppy first crossed paths six years ago. I had just graduated from university and landed a junior post at a prominent construction firm in London. My career was taking off.
At an industry exhibition, I met a pleasant young woman working at a booth.
What are you doing standing by all these excavators? Lets grab a coffee instead. I said cheerfully.
We struck up a conversation. Poppy, softspoken and friendly, instantly caught my eye.
Thats the kind of girl I needquiet, agreeable, willing to do as I say. She could be the perfect, compliant wife. I thought. Shes a bit round, but a gym could fix that. And if she ever gets pregnant and I lose interest, I could always find a mistress. I handed her a coffee cup.
What brings you to this show? I asked as we stepped outside.
Im a fledgling writer hoping to break into screenwriting, Poppy replied, her blue eyes wide with a shy smile. I just finished a literature degree and Im still finding my footing. Rents not cheap, though.
Excellent. She has no money, no property. A grey mouse I could mould into anythingcooking, housekeeping, raising children, obeying me without question. I bragged to myself.
***
I bought a coffee from a stall across the street, settled on a bench, and kept watching Poppy. When she emerged onto the pavement, my breath caught.
She glided with a graceful stride, draped in a mink coat. I could never have imagined that in three short years she could look so transformed. Then she slipped into a sleek Jaguar XJ, and I was left speechless.
She must have found a wealthy man, I whispered, gulping the hot coffee and gripping the cup with trembling fingers. Poppy disappeared down the road.
That night I tossed and turned. After wed split, Poppy blocked me on all social platforms. Unable to let go, I created a new account just to stalk her pictures.
Jealousy, rage, hatredthese emotions surged as I downed half a litre of vodka. She couldnt have changed like this She was nobody, and I took her in with no money, no flat, no looks. Where do these lavish photos come from? Luxury hotels, designer bags, jewellery I fumed. Shes lost at least ten stonewhere do those perfect curves come from? Plastic surgery? Or a gym she cant quit? I clenched my phone in anger.
***
The next morning a fragment of a conversation with Poppy floated back to me.
Absolute rubbish. Who reads this? I said, shaking my head after reading one of her new stories.
Everyone has their own taste, Poppy replied timidly. I already have admirers of my work.
Admirers? If they have no brains, perhaps they enjoy simple tales. I snorted.
Oliver, why are you like this? she asked, voice shaking. Weve been together a year, yet you cant accept that I have my own passions. Im not criticizing your work, which consumes your days.
Thats exactly why, I shouted. If you helped me with my business, I wouldnt be stuck in the office all day.
What? Thats the idea? I leapt from my chair. Enough of the pointless writing. From now on youll quit the stories and assist me with the firm.
How can I stop writing? Its my soul! Poppy gasped, tears welling. I cant just bury my lifes work.
It doesnt matter. No one else needs it. Right now youre useless as a person. So start being useful. Every day Ill give you a list of tasks and youll do them. I barked.
I dont understand any of this youre taking away what matters to me, she sobbed, turning away.
Youre ungrateful. Ive supported you for a year, bought you gifts, taken you on holidays. Either you help me or youre on your own. I snapped. If you dont like it, the doors that way. I gestured to the exit.
Poppy stayed. Fine, Ill help, she whispered, wiping her cheeks and shutting down her laptop. I never saw her write again.
***
A year later Id built a network of contacts and some capital, partly from selling my late grandmothers house. I launched my own construction firm. From dawn till dusk Poppy handled paperwork, prepared presentations, supervised crews, and organised my business meetings.
Two years on Id developed a gated estate in Surrey and was making a decent living. The only thing that bothered me was Poppys appearance. The relentless stress had driven her to a sweet habit, and she began to gain weight rapidly.
I cant take this woman out in public, I told a mate at the pub. She was plump before we married, now shes grotesquely overweight.
My god, thats a sight, my friend replied, glancing at a photo on his phone. Time to replace her.
I downloaded a dating app on my phone. I thought Id have an affair after she gave birth, but shes turned into a nightmare, I muttered, pouring a pint. Within days a fit newcomer, Saffron Blake, agreed to meet.
In the plush bathroom of a trendy London restaurant, Saffron whispered, You love the way I look, dont you? I ran my fingers lightly over her shoulder.
Of course, I crooned, brushing a feathersoft pillow across her back.
She listed her demands: Ill need threethousand pounds for hair, nails, a skin therapist, and a gym membership. I ignored her, simply admiring her beauty, knowing I could afford the lifestyle she wanted.
A month later Saffron had completely eclipsed Poppy in my thoughts. I spent evenings with the alluring brunette, neglecting the house where Poppy waited each night for a meagre meal.
Ive made you pasta with pesto, just the way you like it, Poppy said when I returned from a weekend with Saffron. How was the trip?
Fine, I grunted. Im not hungry.
Lets get back to work. How are the numbers? I turned her into a mere employee, demanding more from her than any other staff member, even though she worked for free.
Within another month I grew disgusted with seeing Poppy in the office. My own business began to faltercontracts fell through, partners walked away. I blamed her for every setback and, in a heated argument, divorced her, making sure she left with nothing. I tossed her out in a single day.
Three years later I could hardly believe my eyes.
A photographs geotag placed Poppy in Harrow on the Hill, next to a billionaires mansion. I have a meeting with an investor nearby. I might drop by, just to see how shes doing, I mused over my morning coffee. A drab mouse cant suddenly blossom into a rose.
My phone buzzed with a message from Saffron, who I had sent off to the UAE with my money.
Oliver, we should break up. Ive met someone else. Nothing personal. Ill send my things back.
After I paid for your trip! What do you think youre doing? I erupted, typing furiously, hurling the worst insults I could summon.
Oliver, youre emotional. I understand. Lets talk calmly later. Im blocking you for a whiledrama hurts my looks, she replied in a voice note, then hung up.
The investor turned me down. In a foul mood, I drove to the exclusive Surrey estate where Poppy now lived. After a halfhour of idling and a pack of cigarettes, a sleek black car pulled up to her gate.
What are you doing here? Poppy asked, startled as I knocked three times.
I just wanted to see how youre getting on, I drawled.
She eyed me warily. My curiosity got the better of me; I tried to soften my tone.
Im actually here to apologise. Ive had a lot of time to think since you left. Things turned out ugly. I stammered.
Apologise? she laughed, shaking her head. You banned me from writing, made me work for free, cooked, cleaned, looked after the house, believed in you when everyone else said youd fail then you showed me the door in one day.
Fine, Oliver, apologise away, she said, hugging herself.
Could you at least let me in? Its awkward standing outside. I kicked a small stone.
Maybe I will A flicker of satisfaction crossed her face. Whos been supporting you all this time? You cant build stone walls on honesty alone.
Nobody, I snapped, following her into the kitchen.
Youre lying, I hissed, chasing after her.
Are you surprised? Do you think I dont deserve my dreams? Poppy placed a glass of water on the table.
How could you change your looks so much in three years? How could you earn enough to live like this? I whirled the glass.
I went back to screenwriting. I wrote pilots for a few production companies, but they dismissed my work. Now Im one of the countrys most recognised writersmy scripts are on the main channels. She smiled, fixing her hair.
So youre here to apologise, Poppy said, sitting opposite me.
Theres a saying that the best revenge is to outshine your enemy. In that moment I felt crushed again, a flood of rage returning. My split with Saffron, the failed investor, Poppys meteoric riseall pressed on me. I needed an outlet.
You were a drab mouse, unattractive, talentless, penniless, homeless, I muttered. Your success is largely thanks to me I taught you what life is. Half of your money belongs to me.
Oliver, thats hardly an apology, Poppy replied, smirking. The only thing you gave me was a lesson in how low people can be.
You wont get anything from me, and its time for you to go. She stood, pointing to the door.
You didnt get the hint, you rat. Hand over the safe or the cash youve hidden, or you wont leave alive. I lost control, grabbing her elbow and dragging her toward the sitting room.
Let go, it hurts! she shouted.
A mouse forever stays a mouse, I growled, shoving her onto the sofa.
Tell me where the safe is, or Ill break you, I threatened, clutching a fireplace log and looming over her.
Single women get cats, Poppy said, rubbing her elbow, staring into my eyes with a grin. But Im not just any woman.
Fine, Ill kill you if you dont hand over half the money. I snarled, raising the log.
Youll regret that, Oliver. Ive got dogs nowChilli and Willy. She smiled, gesturing behind me.
Two massive Dobermans stood a metre away, eyes fixed on me. Chillis tongue lolled, drooling onto the marble floor; Willy simply growled, already understanding the situation.
Chilli, Willy, stay back! Poppy shouted.
If youd seen my face then, youd have known Id lost all confidence. My throat tightened, my mouth dry. The dogs were hungry, and Poppy was about to feed them when I arrived.
I tried to flee, but my freedom lasted only a foot. The next scene was a blur of retribution, police sirens, and countless stitches.
Cameras in Poppys house recorded everything. I received a conditional discharge and never found my way back to her life again.
Now Poppy is thriving. Rumour has it shes married a talented director, is expecting a child, and is happy. They say every successful woman has a man who broke her heart, and the sweetest revenge is to prove you can live without him. Whether thats true or not, one things clear: if you truly believe in yourself, youll make it.
