**Who Needs You Anyway**
“Oliver, please, just let me go… We tried to make this marriage work, but it’s not happening. Why torture each other? Lets just get a divorce.”
“Oh, absolutely!” her husband scoffed. “Dream on. Youre not going anywhere. Youre my wife, Im your husband, and thats that. What, is life so terrible? Or have you stopped loving me? Orwaitis there someone else? Answer me when Im talking to you!”
***
Emily sat on the edge of the sofa, nervously picking at the fringe of the throw blanket. After yet another row with her husband, she just wanted to vanishto disappear from his life forever. Divorce was an option, of course but Emily couldnt quite summon the courage to file. Two years of marriage now felt like a bad dream, especially the last six monthsOliver had somehow morphed into a petty domestic tyrant, finding new reasons to criticise her daily.
It had started that morning over something trivial, really. Emily had ordered a new face cream.
“Blowing money on rubbish again?” Olivers voice cut through the room as she walked in with the parcel.
She tried to explain, but he wasnt having it.
“Do you ever think about *us*? Or is it all just about you? Face cream! Couldve spent it on something usefullike helping my parents.”
“Oliver, come on. I work, its my money. And I *do* help your parents. You know that.”
“Oh, please. A few quid here and therethey need *real* help. Youre selfish, Em. All you care about is yourself. Frittering your wages on potions for your face and new clothes!”
His voice rose, his eyes flashed, and Emily couldnt hold back the tears. Oliver, as usual, slammed the door, leaving her alone with her helplessness and the familiar sting of his words. He always did thispushed her to breaking point, then walked away.
…Emily remembered how it had all begun. Oliver had seemed perfectattentive, caring, loving. But slowly, something changed. Or maybe shed just never seen the real Oliver before?
That evening, he returned to find her in the kitchen, sipping tea.
“Been crying again?” he asked, not even looking at her.
“No… You just upset me.”
“*I* upset you? You brought it on yourself. Maybe think before you act.”
“What am I doing wrong?” Emily whispered.
“*Everything.* You dont even try. I work, I come home exhaustedand what do you do? Tap at a keyboard half the day, lounge about the rest!”
“I work too, just as hard as you,” she protested, instantly regretting it.
“Oh, *please*. You earn pennies. *I* support this family. You should be grateful, Em. Not once have I heard a thank you in all these yearsand I *deserve* one!”
“I *am* grateful, Oliver… But that doesnt mean you can talk to me like this.”
“How *else* should I talk to you? Youre never happy. And that habit of yoursalways playing the victimit makes me sick!”
The disgust in his voice made Emilys chest ache.
“I dont understand whats happening,” she murmured. “Why are you like this with me?”
“Just do things right, dont wind me up, and everythingll be fine.”
Emily looked at him. There was no warmth in his eyes anymore. Only irritation.
“Maybe we should talk,” she suggested. “See a marriage counsellor?”
“A *counsellor*? *Youre* the one who needs one. Youre unhinged,” Oliver snapped. “Always inventing problems where there arent any.”
That was it. Emily had made up her mindshe was leaving. Oliver wolfed down his dinner and stomped off to watch telly, while she dug out an old notebook and started plotting her escape. She had to think this through.
***
The next morning, Emily left early. She stopped at a café, ordered a coffee, and opened her notebook.
“Step one: Find part-time work. Need more savings. Step two: Rent a flator just a room. Step three: Pack essentials. Step four…”
“Emily?” A familiar voice.
She looked up to see an old schoolmate, Sophie.
“Sophie! What a surprise!”
“Been ages!” Sophie smiled. “What are you up to? Working here?”
“No, just… thinking things over.”
“You okay? You look a bit peaky.”
Emily hadnt heard kindness in forever. She hadnt complained to her parentsdidnt want to worry themand Oliver had slowly alienated all her friends. The dam broke.
“Soph, its awful,” she choked out. “Olivers relentlesscriticising, belittling me. I cant take it anymore. Im scared hell hit me next. Hes raised his hand a few times already…”
She poured it all out. Sophie listened, never interrupting.
“I want to leave,” Emily confessed. “I *need* to. But Im terrified. I dont even know where to start.”
“Em, *run.* Dont worry, Ive got you. You can stay with me for a bitremember where I live? And theres support out therefree counselling for women in your situation.”
“I had no idea…”
“Well, now you do. And listenyoure stronger than you think. Youll get through this.”
They met again after work. Two hours later, Emily felt like a different person.
***
That night, Oliver was waiting when she got home. He didnt look up from the telly.
“Whereve you been?”
“Out.”
“Out a lot lately. Got a bloke on the side?”
Emilys blood ran cold.
“How *dare* you?”
“What? Wouldnt put it past you.”
“Oliver, *enough*,” she said wearily.
“Or what? Want compliments instead? Tough.”
Emily took a deep breath.
“Oliver, we need to talk.”
“About your affairs?”
“About *us.* About our marriage.”
“And?”
“I want a divorce.”
Oliver actually looked stunned.
“You *what*?”
“I said I want a divorce. I cant live like this anymore. You belittle me, you criticise meIm *miserable* with you.”
“Youve lost it! Divorce? Whatll you *be* without me? *Nothing.* You should be *grateful* I put up with you!”
“I dont owe you anything. I deserve to be happy.”
“Happy? You think youll be happy *without* me? Youre wrong. *No one* will want you. Understand?”
Emily stayed silent. No more arguing. Her mind was made up.
“Im leaving tomorrow,” she said calmly.
“And go *where*?” Oliver roared. “Youve got *nothing*!”
“Not your problem. Ill manage.”
“Ill *ruin* you!” he bellowed. “Ill find you, and youll *regret* the day you were born! Ungrateful witch! I *made* you, and this is how you repay me?”
Emily didnt answer. She turned and walked to the bedroom. Time to pack.
Oliver slept on the sofa. Emily lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing. She was afraidof the future, of being alone, of never finding happiness. But most of all, she was afraid of staying with Oliver.
Morning came. Emily washed, dressed, and walked into the kitchen. Oliver was already there, sipping coffee.
“Youre not going anywhere,” he said. “Dont even *think* of sneaking off while Im at work!”
“My minds made up.”
“I *forbid* it!”
“Enough, Oliver”
“Are you *deaf*?”
He stood, advancing on her. Emily backed away.
“Dont come near me”
Oliver shoved her against the wall. Her head hit the plaster, and she crumpled to the floor. The man shed once loved raised his fist. Emily closed her eyes, bracing for the blow…
