April 28
Tonight I sat alone in the walkin closet of the flat Ive managed to turn into a tiny sanctuary. The air, usually scented with sandalwood and a faint hint of ambition, suddenly grew thick and cloying, like that cold stairwell a year ago when Mark threw us out onto the streets with the children. I still see the flicker of the hallway light in my minds eye.
Hey, lovebird, the voice crackled through the speaker, sour enough to make me gag. Didnt expect to hear from me?
I froze, the perfume bottle still clasped in my hand. The room seemed to shrink as his laugh, the one I used to hear when Michael and Lucys giggles floated up from the nursery, echoed in my head.
What do you want, Mark?
I forced myself to speak evenly, refusing to let his snickering, his contemptful smile, the one that once felt like a rusty nail scraping glass, shake me. We share two children, after all. He reminded me of that.
He grinned, a grin that had been absent for twelve long months. I felt his old entitlement rise like a tide, his right to me, to my life, to my peace.
I remember. What do you need?
I set the bottle on the marble countertop, my fingers trembling, but my voice stayed steady. Ive learned not to let panic dictate my tone.
Money, I said, plain and short. No apologies, no preamble. He hadnt changed.
Youre serious?
You think Im a joke? His anger cut through the line. I have serious problems, Emma. And you, I see you living the high lifebig house, a wealthy husband, the papers dont lie, do they?
I stared at my reflection. The woman looking back wore a silk dressing gown, hair perfectly coifed, the picture of composure. Not the exhausted, tearstained mother he had tossed out with two duffel bags of childrens clothes.
Is that a problem for your new lover? Dumping an exhusbands wife into a life she can barely survive?
He tried to hide his failure in business, muttering about crypto that had collapsed, debts owed to people who didnt forget. I imagined him on a shabby chair, that smug grin, convinced his guilt would finally break me.
You threw us out in the middle of winter, Mark. Remember what Lucy said when we were sitting on the platform?
He waved my complaints off. Just 60,000 pounds. Thats pocket change for you. Pay for my silence if you want.
Silence? About what?
The price you paid for this sweet life. Do you think your brotherinlaw, Oliver, will be pleased if I spill a few tasty details about our past?
The door to the closet swung open and David stepped in, crisp suit, calm confidence, his eyes softening as he took in my strained face. He asked silently, Everything okay?
I glanced at him, then back at Marks hissing through the handset. Two worlds clashedone I had built, the other he was trying to tear down.
So, Emma, Mark persisted, help a poor relative? If in a year hes crawling on his knees begging for cash, then things are really bad for him.
I gave David a slow nod, signalling that I had the situation under control. For the first time a colder, sharper tone entered my voicenot fear, but steel.
Where and when? I asked.
We arranged to meet at the bland café in the local shopping centreloud pop music, the scent of popcorn, teenagers laughter. My old habit of confronting problems where I least want to stage a scene resurfaced.
Mark was already at the table, his cheap suit trying to look expensive, stirring his drink lazily.
Late, he said without looking up. Its rude to keep a father waiting for his kids.
I sat opposite him, bag on the table, hands gripping it tightly.
I wont give you the 60,000 pounds, Mark.
He finally met my eyes, envy flashing as he surveyed my dress and the ring on my finger. Changed your mind? I could just call your David now. Get his numberno problem.
I can offer three hundred thousand and a job. David has connections, he
He laughed loudly, shaking his head. A job? You think Ill go knocking on interview doors like some schoolboy? Remember who I am, Emma. Im a businessman. I need startup capital, not handouts.
His voice hardened. He leaned forward, lowering his tone.
You sit here, all proper. Do you think I dont know how you got that position? How you told him I was a monster and you were the poor lamb? And how you called me a week before you met him, begging him to take you back? Hed love to hear that.
Every word struck at my deepest fearthat David would see me as the broken, dependent woman she once was.
Silently I pulled out my cheque book, still hoping for a compromise, still trying to resolve this nicely.
Ill write a cheque for 10,000 pounds, I said, my voice hoarse. Thats all I can do. Take it and disappear from our lives. Please.
I slid the paper across. He examined it with two fingers, as if it were a jewel, then tore it into four pieces with a slow, satisfied sigh.
So this is how you humiliate me? Ten thousand? Thats your thanks for all the years I spent on you? For the children? He scattered the torn bits onto the glossy table like dead butterflies.
60,000 pounds, Emma. Or I wont go away. Ill be your cursecalling, texting, picking up the kids after school, telling them who their real dad is. You have one week.
He tossed a few crumpled notes onto the table, grabbed his drink, and left without looking back.
I sat frozen, watching the torn cheque, the music blaring, people laughing around me. Something inside hardened, turning from fear to a cold, unyielding resolve. The attempt at negotiation had failedhumiliatingly, definitively.
The week stretched like a slow torture. I barely slept, jolting at every ring. I searched for an escape, but my thoughts were mired in sticky dread. I wasnt just scared for myselfI feared for the life David had given my children.
On the seventh day, it all collapsed.
When I collected the kids from the art club, Lucy was unusually quiet. At home, as I tucked my daughter into bed, I saw a bright candy on a stick in Lucys handsomething we never bought.
Where did you get that, Lucy? I asked.
She looked up, eyes wide with terror, and whispered, Uncle gave it to me today. He said hes my real dad and will take us away from bad Uncle David. Mum, arent we going to stay with Daddy David?
Something snapped inside me. Fear and panic vanished, replaced by a cold emptiness that quickly hardened into something solid, unbreakable.
Enough.
That evening, David came home to find a different woman waiting. Her eyes were dry, her gaze sharp and unflinching.
We need to talk, she said, without preamble, pulling him into a chair in the study.
She told everythingno tears, no excuses. How Mark had thrown us out with the kids, how Id slept on a stairwell, how Id been humiliated, how the past threatened to ruin the present, and how he had now approached Lucy.
David listened in silence, his face turning to stone with each word. When she finished, he asked one question.
What do you want to do? His voice was even, but the calm concealed a steel edge.
I want him gone. Forever. But not the way he thinks. Im not going to pay him. I want him to realise hes made the biggest mistake of his life.
She looked him straight in the eye, and for the first time I saw not only love and care but full endorsement of the darkest part of herself.
Ten minutes later she dialed Mark. Her hands no longer trembled.
I agree, she said evenly. 60,000 pounds. Tomorrow at noon. Ill send the address. Come yourself.
Marks voice on the handset sneered, Ah, clever girl. Thought youd finally catch up.
She hung up. The address she would send was not a bank or restaurant but the headquarters of David Orwells corporation.
Mark entered the glass tower, swaggering in his best suit, admiring the cold luxury of the lobby as if he owned it. He was led to the 40th floor, a conference room with floortoceiling windows that made the city look like a toy set.
I was already there, seated at the head of a long table, composed in a dark navy dress. Beside me sat David, and a few steps away a sternfaced security chief.
Sit down, Mark, I said, indicating the chair opposite me.
His confidence wavered a little. He expected to see me frightened, a suitcase of cash in hand.
Whats this? A family council? he asked, glancing at David. I thought wed made a deal.
You negotiated with my family, David replied evenly, his stare never leaving Mark. This is something else.
I slid a thick folder across the table.
60,000 pounds, Mark. You wanted it. But just handing it over is too boring. Weve decided to invest it as a loan.
Mark stared at the folder, bewildered.
Whats that?
Its your business, explained the security chief, his expression as hard as stone. In other words, whats left of itdebts, a few criminal fraud cases about to surface. Very risky assets.
He opened the folder. Inside were copies of court orders, bank statements, photos of his meetings with unsavory characters. His face turned pale.
Weve cleared your most urgent debts, I continued. The people who would have waited for a verdict. Consider it a gift. In return
David placed several sheets and a pen on the table.
you sign this. Full renunciation of parental rights and a threeyear employment contract.
Mark burst into a hysterical laugh.
Youre insane! Working for you?
Not for me, David corrected. For one of our subcontractors. In Yorkshire, as a site foreman. Good pay, decent hours. Youll be back in three years, debtfree, with a clean record.
Mark leapt to his feet, shouting, Youll all die! Ill tell everyone!
The security chief tapped the folder lightly. Tell, and your words will be worth less than this paper. These documents will soon be on an investigators desk. The choice is yours.
Mark scanned their facesmy steady gaze, Davids ironlike stare, the security chiefs indifferent look. No doubt, no chance. He was trapped.
He sank back into his chair, bravado collapsing like cheap gilt. The oncehungry predator was now a cornered jackal.
His hand trembled as he picked up the pen.
When the final signature was made, I rose, walked around the table, and stopped opposite him.
You said if a man crawls to you on his knees a year later, his affairs are terrible, I reminded him softly.
Youre not on your knees, Mark, I said. Just because the floor here is pricey doesnt mean youre any less. Youve got your startup capital. Begin a new life.
I turned and walked to the door, David following, his hand resting briefly on my shoulder.
In the massive conference room, under the indifferent gaze of the security chief, the defeated man sat alonea winner who had lost everything.
