When I stepped out of the solicitors office on Oxford Street, my legs felt like they might buckle. I drifted down the pavement as if in a halfsleep, hearing neither the clatter of doubledecker buses nor the chatter of passersby. One thought thumped in my head: Theyve taken everything from me.
That evening I opened the old cedar wardrobe and pulled out the box of photo albums. The pictures showed me, Simon and Blytheour seaside cottage in Cornwall, birthday parties, holidays on the coast. We were smiling, youthful. In one spread the three of us were arminarm; I was beaming, she rested a hand on Simons shoulder.
At the time it seemed a friendly gesture. Now I saw in it all the moments I had missed.
I didnt sleep for three nights. I lay staring at the ceiling until the tears ran dry.
On the fourth dawn, when the first light filtered through the curtains, I sat up and said aloud:
Enough.
I gathered every documentcontracts, receipts, bank statementsanything that could prove the cottage was bought with my own money. I remembered every pound I had ever paid.
Back then I believed a family was a name on a deed, that whose name appeared didnt matter. Now I knew it mattereda great deal.
The same day I went to see my solicitor. He leafed through the file calmly and said, The case isnt simple, Mr. Hughes, but there is a chance.
A chance is all I need, I replied. I wont walk away.
A week later Simon called. His voice sounded as if he were talking about the weather.
Blythe, theres no point in fighting. Lets just accept things maturely.
Maturely? I echoed. She cheated with my closest friend and took the house. Is that what you call maturity?
Dont make a drama of it. You always blown things out of proportion.
Youll see, Simon, I said quietly. This time Ill turn nothing into something.
In the meantime I found work in a small chemist in the centre of Manchestertidy, smelling of menthol and dried herbs. It wasnt my dream, but it was a start. I came home each evening exhausted yet with a clear sense that I was moving forward again.
The neighbours whispered, of course.
The poor Blythe, what a shame!
Did you hear? He left her for his lover!
I just nodded and kept walking. Let them gossip. Let them think Im weak. Its better that wayno one will expect revenge.
Two months later the court called.
The hearing is set for Friday, Mr. Hughes, the clerk announced.
My heart leapt. That night I didnt close my eyes. Their smug faces, the fake tenderness, replayed in my mind.
In the morning I put on the blue dress Simon had once praised:
In that dress youre as beautiful as ever.
I looked in the mirror.
Yes, but Im not the same woman, I whispered.
In the courtroom the opposing party sat side by side, hands touching, eyes full of that selfsatisfied certainty that the battle was already won.
I took my seat opposite them, no makeup, no maskjust dignity.
My solicitor began.
Documents, photographs, bank extracts. Ellen, Simons new partner, sneered.
Your Honour, love cant be measured in cash or paperwork.
The judge replied sternly, Madam, this is not a matter of love. It is a matter of ownership.
In that instant I felt a sweet, quiet vindication. For the first time in months I allowed myself a small smile.
Two weeks later the verdict arrived. The cottage was returned to me. They must vacate by the end of the month.
When I entered the house again, a foreign scent greeted menew curtains, fresh furniture. Yet the walls were still my walls.
I flung open the windows, breathed in the cool air and said softly, Home, Im back.
A few days after that Simon appeared at the gate, a bouquet of cheap roses in hand.
Blythe, can we talk?
Theres nothing to say, Simon, I replied calmly. Some words cant be taken back, just like some people.
I closed the gate behind him.
In time the ache faded. In the garden I planted an apple tree and set a bench beneath it. Every evening I sat there with a mug of tea, listening to the wind rustle the branches.
Sometimes I thought of Ellennot with hatred, but with the cool calm that follows a storm thats finally passed.
I learned something vital: when you are betrayed, it isnt the end. Its merely a new beginning.
I was reborn from the ash, from the humiliation, from the silence. And now I know who I ama woman who will never again allow anyone to take her life away.
