Marcus, would you give me a lift home? After a long day slogging away at work, Jennifer desperately hoped to avoid the forty-minute bus ride back.
Darling, could you pick me up from work? Emily called her husband, quietly praying she wouldnt have to endure the rattling bus after another gruelling shift.
Im busy, he replied curtly. In the background, the unmistakable sound of the television gave him away. Ben was clearly at home.
Tears threatened as disappointment hit her. Their marriage was teetering on the brink, and just six months ago Ben would have moved heaven and earth for her. What had changed so quickly? Emily was lost.
She took care of herself, spending hours at the local gym. She was an excellent cookno wonder, considering she worked at a popular bistro in town. She never asked for anything, never made a fuss, was willing to fulfil any wish he had
Hell get bored of you soon enough, her mother would sigh, shaking her head whenever Emily confided in her. You cant just bend over backwards for a man.
I just love him, Emily would reply, forcing a hopeless smile. And he loves me
*****
In the end, Mum was right. Hes bored of me, Emily muttered bitterly, staring at Bens browsing history. It was all there in black and whitehed been spending every spare minute on dating websites, chatting up several women at once. Why couldnt he just talk to her? She would have understood and let him go. What was the point in living with someone you didnt love, making each other miserable?
So, divorce it was. Shed survive; she was stronger than she looked. But she wasnt about to let him off that lightly. A little paybackhe deserved that, at least.
That very night, Emily created a profile on the same dating site Ben haunted, found him, and sent a message. The photo? A glamorous internet shot, expertly airbrushed. She was certain hed biteand bite he did.
It sparked a whirlwind of messages. Ben claimed he was single, ready for a proper relationship, eager to start a family. He boasted endlessly about his charming personality, which made Emily laugh until she cried. After all, she knew better than anyone how impossible he was to live with.
Lets meet up, Emily typed, pulse hammering as she waited for his reply.
Id love that, came his answer within seconds. But my sisters temporarily staying at my place while she prepares for uni exams. Shall we meet somewhere neutral? Maybe carry on at a hotel?
Really? Emily snorted out loud, reading his message. What makes you think any decent woman would immediately agree to a hotel? Stillworks in my favour.
How about we meet at mine? I live just outside town, alone. No one to disturb us She wondered if hed take the bait.
Thats brilliant! Ben sounded relievedmost likely at saving a few quid. Send me the address and time. Ill get there as quick as a flash.
Maple Lane, number 25. Ten oclock sharp. Does that work?
Of course! Cant wait.
At nine, Ben pretended hed been called back urgently to work. Unable to find his car keys, he grudgingly asked his wife if shed seen them.
They were on the sideboard, Emily replied, meeting his gaze with wide-eyed honesty. Secretly, she clutched the keys in her pocket. Maybe the cat nicked them?
She wasnt about to hang around waiting for him. Why bother? Emily spent the evening wisely, packing her belongings. Thankfully, she had a flat of her own, left to her by her gran. The only thing she left behind was the divorce petition, placed front and centre on the kitchen table.
Ben staggered back home the next morning, absolutely furious. Not only had the journey been a nightmareover an hour each waybut Angela from the profile was nowhere to be seen.
The address was real, the house too. But it wasnt the model-gorgeous woman from the photos who greeted him: rather, the door swung open to reveal a lady three times his size, clad in a see-through negligee. Hed have handed over everything in his wallet to erase that image from his mind.
He barely made it out in one piece. He had to call for a taxi and shivered in his thin jacket as he waited what felt like an eternity for it to arrive. And the driver was oddtook him to god-knows-where before finally bringing him home. All in all, it was one wild night.
It was only when Ben walked inside and spotted the divorce papers sitting squarely on the table that he realised whod orchestrated the whole charade. Scrawled next to them in lipstick: A sweet little revengeHe stared at the kitchen table, the silence in the flat pressing down on him, heavier than bricks. Around him, the life hed taken for granted had vanishedEmilys plants, her laughter, the cozy scent of her cookinggone, as if theyd never existed. Only the neat stack of papers, signed and dated, remained as proof she had ever lived there at all.
A slow, uneasy thrill of regret crept in. He wandered through empty rooms, piecing together every memory hed missed, every kindness left unappreciated. It was too late to go after her, too late to undo what hed done.
Meanwhile, Emily sat in her new flat, sunlight warming her face as she sipped strong coffee. She felt the strangest mixture of grief and reliefa heart bruised but pumping with hope. Her phone pingedMarcus, her old colleague, had sent a cheery meme and an invitation for brunch. Emily smiled, her future stretching wide and possible before her.
Somewhere, perhaps, Ben would remember the night hed lost herto himself, to his choices, to that one last, clever twist of hers. And Emily? She remembered her mothers words, the ache of letting goand then, a sweet, tentative laughter bubbled up, because sometimes, losing what you thought was love is the first step to discovering your own happiness.
And so, as a new day broke, Emily opened her window, let the fresh air sweep in, and welcomed the world.
