**Shattered Illusions: The Path to True Love**
James clenched his fists, his face burning with anger. “Did I hear that right? Did Emily really just say that?”
“James, I’ve made up my mind. We’re getting a divorce. I’ll come by tonight to collect my things,” she repeated, turning on her heel and walking away.
Was she really leaving him? What right did she have to walk out on her husband? What made her think she could do this after everything they’d shared? He’d given her everything! Typical woman—pretending to be loving and forgiving, only to pull a stunt like this. Maybe there was someone else? No, she wasn’t like that.
“She’s just playing games, trying to make me chase her,” James muttered. “Damn it, she’s got me hooked. Her bland affection bored me, but now there’s drama. Fine, I’ll wait till tonight. Trying to spark my interest, are we? Clever girl, Em. A man likes a bit of a chase.”
That evening, James came home early from work. Emily, still in that same red dressing gown, was packing her suitcase.
“You’re actually serious?!” He froze, then grabbed her. “Enough with the games, Em.”
He expected her to cave—she always had. A wife should obey! But Emily shoved him away. That just fueled him. He scooped her up, but she wriggled free, smirking faintly.
“You’re greedy, James,” she said. “When I’m here, you’re after other women. The moment I leave, you’re desperate? Doesn’t matter. I’m filing for divorce—and if I must, I’ll take you for child support. Scared now?”
Emily left for her parents’ that night. Later, his mother rang. “Emily, what’s gotten into you? James told me everything! How could you abandon your husband? You’ve ruined his life! He adores you!”
Emily tried to explain. “Margaret, you know James has—”
“Don’t you slander my boy!” came the sharp reply. “Good thing we never put you on the deeds, and there are no children! Otherwise, you’d have taken the house!”
The divorce went smoothly. Emily felt lighter, as if a fog had lifted. She’d once believed James was the best—her “prince,” who swore he couldn’t live without her. But after a year, he’d grown cold.
At Christmas, they’d visited his friends’ cottage in the Cotswolds. His mate’s husband, Thomas, had drunk too much, and James helped put him to bed. Emily waited for hours, even fell asleep. When she woke, she went searching—only to see James slipping quietly from the couple’s room. Spotting her, he jumped. “What are you doing up? Let’s go. Where was I? Helping Thomas and Lucy, obviously.”
Back then, she’d believed him—wanted to. Later, his schoolmate had a stag do nearby. From their balcony, Emily spotted girls stepping outside. James denied it all: “You imagined it! Just lads having a laugh. Don’t you trust me? You’re the only one I love.”
He’d assumed it’d always be this way: Emily as his property, while he did as he pleased. After all, he was the man!
At work, Emily told no one about the divorce. Why should she? But one colleague, Oliver, guessed straight away. She’d known he fancied her, though he’d kept his distance while she was married.
Now, his gaze was different—warm, protective. Oliver was kind; the office girls joked about “taming” him. He lived in a village in the Lake District, helping his parents tend their garden and feed their rabbits. Colleagues teased, “Our Oliver will marry a sturdy farmer’s lass, have five kids, and sing folk songs on the porch!”
Emily didn’t know when it happened. Oliver started walking her home. Once, his fingers brushed hers—a spark shot through her. Suddenly, she saw him differently. Not tall, glasses-wearing, but none of that mattered. She felt his gaze and knew: he wanted forever.
One evening, he said, “Em, if this is a joke, stop now. I don’t do casual. I know you’re free, even if you’re quiet. No rush, but—I’ve dreamed of you for years. Be my wife.”
Old-fashioned words, yet achingly sincere. Emily was stunned—no one had ever spoken to her like that. She felt truly wanted.
Six months later, they married. A year after, their daughter Charlotte arrived; two years on, their son Henry. They sat on their Lake District porch, laughing. The jokes had come true—mostly. Not quite a “farmer’s lass,” only two kids for now, but a lifetime ahead. The important part? They loved each other.
Later, mutual friends mentioned James. Twice married, twice divorced. Living with his mum. Margaret still moans to anyone who’ll listen about how “ungrateful Emily” ruined her “poor Jamie’s” life—the boy who loved her so dearly.
*Lesson learned: Real love isn’t about possession. It’s the quiet moments, the steady hands, the heart that stays.*
