**The Black Dog Cant Be Washed White**
*”Sophie, fine, Ill help you with everything. But Im warning youyoull suffer with that scoundrel. Cant you see what kind of man youre tying yourself to? A freeloader and a drunk!”* My brother raised his voice, but he couldnt talk sense into me.
Life did it for him.
Slater came to our company through my sister, Grace. I knew theyd had a fling, but when it fizzled out, Gracenot wanting to hurt her exgot him a job as a warehouse worker in our family business. We ran a successful furniture chain with stores across London. My brother, Victor, the companys founder, despised Slater from the start. Slater sensed it and kept out of his way.
*”That lads living beyond his means. Grace, I remember you begging me to pay off his debtssaid he was struggling, that you felt sorry for him. But I see the trutha womanizer, a restaurant crawler. I despise men like him, always looking for a soft shoulder to lean on while they gallivant around!”* Victor, as the eldest, had every right to lecture her.
Grace just nodded and never fired Slater.
Slater was stunningcharming, athletic, effortlessly winning over women. Before I knew it, I fell for him. Hard. I wanted a grand wedding, a couture gown, diamond-studded heels! In short, my head was full of pink ponies prancing about.
Victor, watching his little sisters madness, didnt stop me. Just sighed, *”Wake up, you silly girl.”* But he gave us the wedding of a lifetimea luxury venue, a limousine, half the city invited. A feast fit for royalty. I was the baby of the family, and Victor spoiled me rotten.
I was over the moon. To land a man like that, when I wasnt even a beauty! Grace, though, warned me: *”Sophie, keep your wits about you with Slater. Otherwise, youll regret it, sis. That man knows how to play the saintbut hes all smoke and mirrors.”*
Nothing couldve stopped me then. Not even a brick wall.
Victor gifted us a flat after the wedding. Soon, Slater asked for a car*”preferably foreign-made.”* Lost in love, I dressed him in designer clothes, bought him the car, furnished the flat top to bottom. Our business meant we lived well.
Too bad Slater didnt care. Hed shamelessly take advantage of my devotion, wipe his feet on me, laugh behind my back. But that came later. For nowI was blindly in love.
Three years in, Slater never once mentioned children.
Victor, as usual, couldnt stay silent: *”Sophie, your husband isnt the family type. He doesnt want youor kids. Just money and freedom. He likes life with a bit of spice. A narcissist, thats what he is. When will you wake up, love? Why grovel before a man like that?”*
But I saw no one else. Slater was my blooming rose, and Ithe tireless bee, buzzing around him.
I begged Victor to promote him.
*”Let him manage a store. Teach him the business. I want him as my partner.”*
*”Only for you, Sophie. But mark my wordsitll fail. Hell ruin it.”* Reluctantly, Victor agreed.
As manager, Slater ran the shop into the ground. Blamed me*”not enough stock, rude customers, bad location”*
*”Alright, love, maybe youre right. Dont work at all. Victor will handle it. Just focus on finishing the cottage.”* Id have given anything to keep him, so long as he didnt leave me for some pretty little thing.
At the cottage, Slater turned it into a dendrinkers, druggies, shady characters. Neighbors told me. A nightmare. Still, I tried dragging him back from the edge.
I brought him home, hired a nurse to sober him upIV drips, meals, supervision. I worked nonstop. Victor watched my torment, silent but grim. He knew I was hurting enough.
Then the nurse got pregnant. Three months later, she asked me for abortion money.
*”Too late now. Youre keeping it.”* I pitied her. Like me, shed fallen for the pretty package.
I left Slater. No point going on. I let him keep the flathe had a new family coming. I wanted him happy, even without me.
The scales fell from my eyes. The cottage stood half-built, the car reeked of booze, and I was paying Slaters debts.
The girl had his son. He still walked out.
For months, I was a wreck. Still loved him. Victor comforted me, stroking my hair like a child: *”Sophie, havent you heard? You cant wash a black dog white. Some men never change. He threw away his chance. Be glad you got out clean.”*
Time healed. The ruined store recovered under new management. We opened three more.
Slater drank himself to death at thirty-three. Found face-down in a ditch. A lost soul always finds a deeper pit.
That ugly chapters behind me. I started freshthough the scar ached for years.
Now, Ive three children and a husband whos everything Slater wasnt.
