I accidentally walked into my husbands study, and after that, I grabbed all five children and immediately left for another town…
“Mum, wheres my birth certificate? The coach said I cant compete without it.”
The voice of my eldest, nearly thirteen-year-old son, snapped Anna out of her thoughts about dinner. She frowned, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Its in the documents, love. The big blue folder.”
“Wheres the folder?”
Anna froze. The folder. Large, blue, made of thick cardboard. She knew exactly where it was. In his study. In the bottom drawer of his desk.
Edward had never allowed her in there. “My space, Annie. Where I can think.”
In fifteen years of marriage, she had never broken that rule. But now Edward was away on a three-day business trip, and their son needed the document by tomorrow.
Hesitantly, she pushed open the heavy oak door. The study smelled of wood, leather, and his cologne. Everything was pristine, perfectjust like him. The dark wood desk, the leather chair, shelves of books arranged by colour.
Anna knelt by the desk. The bottom drawer was locked, as expected. But she knew where the key was. Small, silver, always hanging on the ring with the car and safe keys, on the hook by the desk.
A symbol of trust, hed called it. Now she understoodit was a symbol of arrogance. Confidence that shed never dare.
The key turned easily. There it wasthe blue folder. But next to it lay another oneburgundy, with an embossed gold pattern.
Shed never seen it before. Curiosity overpowered her. Her fingers trembled as she opened it. Inside, Edward stared back at her.
He was smiling, his arm around a woman with freckles. Beside them stood two childrena boy and a girl, both eerily like her husband.
Anna flipped through the photos. There they were at the seaside, building a sandcastle. Celebrating the boys birthdaya cake with seven candles. Decorating a Christmas tree in a cosy, sunlit living room shed never seen.
In every photo, he looked… happy. Not the tired, stern Edward who came home to her and their five children. But someone elsecarefree, light, in love.
She felt no pain. No tears. Just a deafening, hollow emptiness filling her insides.
The life shed carefully built for fifteen years crumbled to dust in seconds.
She sat on the floor amid the perfect order of a strangers study and realised her entire existence was a lie.
Carefully, she closed the folder. Took one photothe one of them by the seaand slipped it into her apron pocket. Returned the rest, locked the drawer, and hung the key back.
Quietly, she shut the study door, as if afraid to wake the ghosts of his other life.
Then she straightened. The hollow emptiness inside hardened into cold, sharp clarity. There was no hatred. Just absolute, ringing certainty. She knew what to do.
“Kids, pack up! Everyone, now!”
Five minutes later, all five childrenfrom the eldest to the three-year-oldstood bewildered in the hallway as she hauled out three large suitcases from the bedrooms. Not one. Three. With essentials: clothes, documents, the little ones favourite toys, the eldests laptop. She moved like a machine, precise and emotionless.
“Mum, where are we going?” the middle one asked, trying to catch her eye.
She knelt, pulling them all into a tight hug.
“Were visiting Grandma and Grandpa. Right now. Its a little adventure.”
The drive took four hours. Four hours of silence, broken only by the childrens sleepy murmurs and the occasional question from her eldest. He sensed itthis wasnt just an adventure. Something heavy. Final.
Her parents home welcomed them with the smell of apple pie and warm light from the windows. Her mother gasped when she saw them on the doorstep. Her father, quiet and stern, hugged her tighter than usual, looked into her eyes, and understood without words.
Anna tucked the children into bed, gave her mother a clipped explanation”Edward and I had a fight. Ill stay awhile.” Only then did she let herself sit.
The hollowness hadnt left. It had just solidified into an icy core.
The phone rang at one in the morning. Edward.
“Annie? Whats going on? I came home to an empty house. Where are you?”
His voice was irritated but controlled. The voice of a man whod found his possessions out of place.
“Were at my parents,” she replied calmly, surprised by her own steadiness.
“Your parents? Why? Whats this about?”
“I didnt think you needed to know.”
Silence. He hadnt expected that tone. He was used to her softness.
“Annie, this isnt funny. Be home by morning. The kids have school.”
“Were not coming back,” she said softly but firmly.
Another pause. Longer. Tenser.
“What do you mean, not coming back? Have you lost your mind?”
His voice sharpened, the steel beneath slipping through. But the icy core inside her didnt waver.
“I went into your study.”
He went very quiet. She could almost hear the panic on the other end. He knew.
“I found the burgundy folder. The photos.”
Dead silence.
“Annie” His voice turned pleading, soft. “Its not what you think. Its… complicated. Come home, and Ill explain.”
“For the childrens sake, Im never coming back.”
She hung up. For the first time in fifteen years, she breathed freely.
He showed up two days later. His sleek black Range Rover looked out of place on the quiet village lane. Anna saw it from the kitchen window, where she was helping her mother make dumplings. Her heart lurched, but the icy core held firm.
She wiped her hands and stepped onto the porch. Her father followed, wordless.
Edward got out. Perfect suit, polished shoes, the confident air of a man in control. But his eyes burned with cold fury.
“We need to talk,” he said without greeting.
“Theres nothing to say.”
“Youve decided that?” He smirked. “What will you live on? My money?”
Her father stepped forward. “Shell live here. With us. Shell want for nothing.”
Edward ignored him. “Where are the kids? Im taking them home.”
“Theyre with Mum at the park.”
“Good. Theyre coming with me.”
Anna blocked his path. “Youre not taking them.”
He laughed, sharp and nervous. “Im their father. I have every right.”
“You lost that right when you started a second family,” she said.
He flinched. The confidence cracked.
“Youll regret this.”
“I know everything, Edward. About her. Your two children. The house where you decorate the Christmas tree together.”
His face paled. For the first time, he looked at herreally lookedand saw an equal. A threat.
“You have one week,” she said calmly. “One week to sign over the house and provide for the children. Or shell find out youre not the widower you claim to be.”
His breath hitched.
“You wouldnt dare.”
“Try me.”
She turned and walked inside, leaving him standing there, his expensive car suddenly pathetic in the afternoon sun.
He caved in five days. His lawyer calleddry, detached. The house, the money, the divorce. All agreed.
The last meeting was at the solicitors office. Edward looked older, grey, defeated. He signed the papers without looking at her. But as they left, he finally spoke.
“You ruined everything.”
“No, Edward. You did. You built a house of cards, and I just opened the window.”
His voice dropped. “She left me. Someone sent her that photo. The one by the sea.”
Anna said nothing.
“Im sorry for your children,” she said honestly. “And mine. But theyll be happy. Ill make sure of it.”
She walked away without looking back.
Five years later, a summer evening gilded the garden. The air smelled of roses and freshly cut grass.
Anna sat on the porch, watching her nearly grown children play badminton. The eldest was heading to university. The twins, now teenagers, bickered over points. The little ones chased the shuttlecock, laughing.
Shed gone back to school, earned her degree in psychology, and opened a small practice. She helped women like herlost, betrayed, rebuilding.
She never remarried. She didnt need to. Her world was fullher parents love, her childrens laughter, friends who stood by her.
Sometimes, she thought of Edward. Not with anger, just distance, like a character from an old book. Shed heard hed tried to start over abroad. Failed. Faded away.
“Mum, come play!” her middle son called.
Anna smiled.
“I
