“She’ll regret this!”
That was all Oliver could think when his wife suddenly announced she was filing for divorce. Just yesterday, everything had been fineshed been washing his socks, ironing his shirtsand now this! No warning, no reason! Oliver had done everything right: worked steady, never raised a hand, hardly strayed, drank in moderation.
“What more did the bloody woman want?!” he fumed. “Found herself some other bloke, did she? The cow! Shell regret it! Shell come crawling back in tears! Ill show her! Oh, shell understandbut itll be too late!”
While he muttered curses under his breath, his wife, Emily, repeated the same litany shed been reciting for years:
“Im exhausted, Oliver! I work, I clean, I cook, I look after Harryall by myself! I did the mathsyou eat more than you bring home! When you disappeared for three days last month, I realised life was easier without you. The flat stays cleaner, quieter. I dont have to fry steaks just for you! Without you, even the stove stays spotlessI make a stew, and it lasts two days instead of vanishing in one meal! Im done! Im not your maid! I dont even recognise myself when youre around! Youre expensive, embarrassing, and exhausting!”
“When was the last time you read Harry a book? Never? When did you take him to the park? Bathe him? What does he hear from you besides Go away, Im tired? Do you even know his school? His teachers name? When his swimming lessons are? You live under the same roof, but you dont know your own son! He either sees you drunk on the sofa with a lager or asleep on the sofa with a lager! What kind of example is that? Whats the point of you? I wont live like this anymore!”
“Doesnt she get bored of the same old rant?” Oliver had wondered just yesterday. Emily delivered this hysterical monologue most evenings while he shoveled sausages straight from the pan. “Typical womans nonsense,” hed dismiss. “Bored housewife looking for drama.”
But nowdivorce papers! Out of nowhere!
“Shell regret it! Thinks some other bloke will want her? A washed-up thirty-year-old? Watchshell beg me back in two days! And then well see if I even bother!”
“I packed your things. Get out.”
“Fine!” Oliver chewed his last sausage. “Ill go! But dont expect me to come crawling!”
He gave her one last chance to change her mindlingering at the door, rustling bags, shuffling his shoes. But she held firm. “Stubborn cow,” he thought bitterly, mourning the uneaten sausages as he stepped out.
Off to his mums. She launched into the same tiresome interrogationWhat happened? Whyd she throw you out? You mustve done something!
“I didnt! She just snapped! I did my part! Worked! Provided! But nothings ever enough for her! New boots, new coatswants some rich bloke, doesnt she? Probably already found one! Thats why she kicked me out!”
His mum clucked and rang Emily. But no recall came.
“No matter. Shell regret it. Whod want a single mum with a kid?” Oliver reasoned, picking up discounted lager.
At the first court hearing, Emily looked differentnew hair, makeup, smiling. Nervous but firm: no family left, no support, did it all alone. “Lies,” Oliver scoffed, hands shaking. Needed a drink, but held off for court.
The judgea woman, of coursesmirked:
“Do you drink excessively?”
“Hardly! Two pints after work, tops! This is stressmy wife left me!”
“Right,” she said, granting three months reconciliation. Oliver eyed Emilystill no regret?
“God, are you ever sober?” she wrinkled her nose at his stare.
“Fine, Ill wait,” he decided. “Three months solo, and shell come begging!” He pictured itEmily on her knees, him refusing. Returning only on his terms!
But she never called. Never wrote. Pretended he didnt exist.
“Mustve found someone,” he muttered, though friends insisted she hadnt.
At the final hearing, Emily was stern, resolute. Not a hint of remorse. “Waiting for me to grovel,” Oliver sneered. “Not happening.”
And just like thatdivorced. He didnt object. Until the judge asked:
“Childs birthday?”
Oliver scrambled through papers.
“No peeking!” the judge grinned. Bloody women in power.
“June third!” he blurted.
“Its today! Harrys seven today!” Emily snapped. “June sixth!”
“Did you even remember on the third?” the judge smirked.
Cursed matriarchy. Oliver stayed silent.
“Any objections to custody?”
“No!” he barked.
Child to Emily. Alimony next, no doubt. But Oliver brightenednow shed crack! Her life was over! Divorced, single mumwhod want her?
But outside, Emily was laughing with a friend.
“Just finalised the divorce! Im free!”
Laughing! Oliver gaped. Her life in ruins, and shes giggling like a fool!
“I thought youd be crying!” he stormed over. “Youll regret this! Ill sue for the flat! For Harry! Youll see!”
“The flats my nans,” Emily said coolly. “And since when do you care about Harry?”
“Whats happened?!” Oliver rantedruined family, robbed the boy, tossed him out, found another man, doomed to die alone with cats.
Long after shed gone, he kept muttering:
“Shell regret it.”
