“Listen here! I’m loaded now, and it’s time we split,” declared the husband with a sneer. He hadn’t the faintest clue what was coming.
“You dont even see how dreary and dull youve become,” snapped Edward, his eyes glinting. “I dont need some plain JaneI deserve better!”
“Do you honestly believe money makes you superior?” Emily replied, her voice trembling as she fought back tears.
The warm glow of dusk bathed the kitchen where Emily stirred a pot of hearty beef stew, the scent of freshly baked scones mixing with the steam.
Edward barged in, brandishing an envelope like a trophy, grinning from ear to ear.
“Em! Em! Youll never guess!” he crowed, not bothering to kick off his muddy wellies. “Some distant uncle in Cornwall left me a fortune! Were rolling in it now!”
Emily turned, wiping flour-dusted hands on her apron.
“Thats lovely, Eddie,” she said softly. “But who was this uncle? Weve never heard of him.”
“Who cares!” Edward laughed, swooping in to peck her cheek. “We can buy whatever we fancy now!”
Emily arched a brow but didnt get a word in as Edward rambled on about sports cars and holidays in the Maldives, his arms flailing like a windmill.
By morning, though, after a sleepless night spent counting imaginary millions, Edward had transformed into a stranger. He eyed Emily with disdain, barking orders as if she were the help. Every word out of his mouth was about his newfound “status,” as though hed been knighted rather than inherited a penny.
“You know, Em,” he drawled over breakfast, not meeting her gaze, “now that Im flush, we ought to rethink this marriage.”
Emily froze, her teacup rattling in its saucer.
“What on earth do you mean?” she whispered.
“Im on another level now,” he said, crunching toast. “Youre just ordinary.”
Emily reeled. She dashed off to meet her best mates, Poppy and Gemma, at a cosy café in York.
“Girls, you wont believe it,” she blurted the moment they sat down. “Edwards come into money and thinks Im beneath him now!”
Poppy snorted. “Pull the other one! What relative? A ghost?”
Gemma frowned, stirring her tea. “Whatll you do?”
“I dont know,” Emily sighed. “Hes turned into such a prat!”
Poppy shook her head. “Em, sure this isnt some mix-up? Maybe hes just lost the plot?”
Gemmas frown deepened. “Somethings off.”
That evening, Emily returned home to find Edward drooling over brochures for luxury yachts. A knot of dread tightened in her chest, but her friends loyalty kept her afloat.
Days passed, and Edward grew worse. Though the money hadnt even cleared, he strutted about like a lord, treating Emily like hired help.
“Em, wheres my blazer?” he bellowed one morning. “Ive a *very* important meeting!”
Emily fetched it silently, hanging it on the door.
“Edward, can we talk?” she ventured.
“Not now,” he dismissed. “Ive no time for trifles.”
Tears pricked her eyes. The man she loved had vanished, replaced by this cold, sneering imposter. That evening, she met Poppy and Gemma again at their usual spot.
“Girls, I cant take it,” Emily confessed, gripping her mug. “He talks to me like Im dirt.”
Poppy slammed her palm on the table. “The absolute nerve! He hasnt seen a penny yet!”
Gemma squeezed her hand. “Weve got you, Em.”
But Edwards cruelty only escalated. He accused her of gold-digging, of leeching off his “future wealth.”
“Em, its clear now,” he spat one night. “Youre just waiting to dip into my pockets.”
Emily gaped. “After ten years together, *thats* what you think of me?”
He smirked. “Youre too simple for my world now.”
That was it. The next day, she met her friends, who exchanged uneasy glances.
“Em,” Poppy began, “weve got to come clean.”
Gemma bit her lip. “We meant it as a joke, but it got out of hand.”
Emilys stomach dropped. “What?”
Poppy sighed. “The inheritance letterits fake. We did it to show you who he really is.”
Emily stared, numb. “You *lied*?”
Gemma gripped her hand. “We saw how he treated you. We had to know if money would change him. And it didhorribly.”
Emilys tears fell hot and fast. Anger, betrayal, reliefall collided in her chest.
“How could you?” she choked out.
Poppy looked wretched. “We wanted you to see the truth. We never thought hed go this far”
Silence hung heavy. Finally, Emily spoke.
“Youve shown me two things: Edwards a monster, and my friends arent who I thought.”
That night, Edward came home to find Emily waiting, steel in her gaze.
“Sit down,” she said coldly. “Were done.”
He scoffed. “More nagging?”
“I know the letters fake. Poppy and Gemma set it up to show your true colours. And you failed. Miserably.”
Edward paled, then exploded. “Youre choosing *them* over me? Theyre just jealous!”
Emily stood tall. “No. You showed me exactly who you are. Get out.”
He left in a rage, slamming the door so hard the china rattled.
The moment he was gone, Poppy and Gemma arrived, finding Emily shell-shocked but resolute.
“Em, weve more to tell,” Gemma said gently.
Poppy took a breath. “Three weeks ago, a solicitor from London reached out. Hes been trying to contact yousomething about a *real* inheritance. We didnt want to tell you until we knew Edward wouldnt take advantage.”
Emilys jaw dropped. “A *real* inheritance?”
Gemma nodded. “We tested him first. And he failed. Horribly.”
With shaking hands, Emily called the solicitor. Minutes later, she gasped.
“Its true. Some great-aunt in Devon left me everything.”
Poppy whooped. “Youre rich, Em!”
Gemma hugged her. “And free of that wanker.”
They clinked glasses of Prosecco (Poppys “just-in-case” bottle).
“To fresh starts!” cheered Poppy.
“To proper friends,” added Gemma.
Emily smiled through tears. “To you both. Thank you.”
As they laughed, she knewwhatever came next, shed face it with her true allies by her side.
