My mother-in-law posted photos from her holiday in Turkey. But she forgot my husband was in the background with my sister.
My phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with a social media notification.
Margaret, my dear mother-in-law, had just uploaded a new picture. *”Basking in the Turkish sun!”* read the caption.
In the photo, she beamed, clutching a cocktail against a backdrop of turquoise sea. I zoomed in on the backgroundjust out of habit.
There, by the water, stood two figures. Slightly blurred, but painfully recognisable.
My husband, David, who was supposedly on a *”last-minute business trip,”* had his arm around my younger sister, Lily. Lily was laughing, head thrown back.
His hand rested on her waist with such ease. Such familiarity.
The world didnt collapse. Nothing inside me shattered.
The air didnt thicken. I just stared at the screen as a dozen tiny details Id refused to notice for months clicked into place.
His sudden *”late meetings.”* Her mysterious *”new boyfriend”* she never wanted to discuss.
His irritation when I asked to borrow his phone. Her evasive glances at Sunday dinner.
His words: *”Anna, youre exhaustedyou need to rest,”* when I cried after yet another failed attempt to get pregnant. And her words, spoken that same night: *”Maybe it just wasnt meant to be?”*
I calmly took a screenshot. Opened an editor. Cropped out Margarets glowing face, leaving only the truth.
Sent the edited photo to Lily without a word.
Then I called David. He didnt answer immediately. Waves and distant music hummed in the background.
*”Anna? Hi. Bit of a bad timeIm in a meeting.”*
His voice was bright. Relaxed. Not the tone of a man buried in spreadsheets.
*”Just wanted to ask,”* I said evenly, *”hows the weather there? Not too hot?”*
A pause.
*”Fine. Work stuff. Look, Ill call you later, alright?”*
*”Of course,”* I smiled, though he couldnt see it. *”Once your business trip is over.”*
I hung up. My phone buzzed again immediately. Margaret. Shed obviously seen my comment under her photo: *”Looks amazing! Give my love to David and Lily!”*
I declined the call and opened our banking app. There it wasour joint account, where his salary landed and all major expenses came from. The latest transaction: *”Sea Breeze Restaurant, Antalya. Paid 15 minutes ago.”*
In seconds, I opened a new account in my name and transferred every last penny. Then I blocked our shared credit card. His personal debit card was now just a useless bit of plastic.
Let them enjoy their holiday. On their own dime. *If* they had any.
It took less than ten minutes for my phone to explode. First, Lilyten missed calls, then a flood of messages.
*”Have you lost your mind? Whats this photoshop nonsense? Why would you do this?”*
*”Anna, delete that comment NOW! Davids mum is hysterical!”*
*”Its not what you think! We ran into each other by accident!”*
By accident. In another country. At a hotel *he* paid for. I read them all, feeling nothing but a cold, crystal-clear calm.
Then David chimed in. His tone shiftedfirst rage.
*”What the hell are you playing at? My cards declineddid you block it?”*
*”Answer your phone! This isnt funny!”*
I ignored him. Instead, I pulled his suitcase from the wardrobe, unzipped it, and laid it open on the bed. As I methodically packed his things, my phone rang again. Mum.
*”Anna, darling, whats happened? Lily called me in tears! She says youre accusing her of”*
*”Mum. Lilys in Turkey. With my husband. Who was meant to be on a business trip.”*
Silence. Then, carefully: *”Anna you know Lily. Shes flighty. Maybe its a misunderstanding? Youre the older sisteryou should be wiser. Dont be so hasty.”*
*”Wiser means letting my sister sleep with my husband?”* My voice was ice.
*”Now, theres no need for”*
*”Thanks for the advice, Mum.”* I hung up.
Davids messages turned desperate.
*”Anna, please. Unblock the card. Well talk when Im back. Dont throw away ten years over nothing!”*
*Nothing.* A decade of marriage, reduced to *nothing.* I tossed his razor into the suitcase.
The final note came from Margareta venomous voice message.
*”I always knew you were a snake! Trying to ruin my sons life? He picked you out of the gutter, and this is how you Ugh! Hell be better off without you! Lilys a catchnot some frumpy little mouse like you!”*
I deleted it and blocked her. Then I snapped a photo of the packed suitcase by the front door and sent it to David.
With one caption: *”Shes waiting. So are the divorce papers.”*
Peace lasted five blissful days. I changed the locks, consulted a solicitor, and rang Davids bossold family friend, Geoffrey.
I didnt *complain,* of course.
I just *”shared my concern”* that David had taken an *”impromptu holiday”* in Turkey when he was meant to be overseeing a project in Manchester. Geoffrey understood. Perfectly.
On the fifth evening, the doorbell rang. There they stoodsunburnt, rumpled, furious.
I didnt open.
*”Anna, let us in!”* Davids voice was raw. *”Enough of this nonsense!”*
He jammed his key into the lock. Useless.
*”You changed the locks?”* Disbelief.
I opened the door just enough, the chain still secure. I wore my favourite dress, red lipstick, a light smile.
*”Can I help you?”*
*”I live here!”* He yanked the door.
*”No, David. You *used* to live here. Now you live wherever Lily does.”*
Lily shoved forward. *”Stop playing the victim, Anna! Yes, fineDavid fell for me! Deal with it! You couldnt give him what he wantedpassion, or even a child!”*
A low blow. They both knew what my two miscarriages had cost me.
Something inside me *clicked.* The *”wise older sister”* was gone.
I met Lilys smug gaze and smiled.
*”A child? Really? You sure you want to bring that up? You havent even paid off the loan for your *last* round of IVF. What was it your ex-husband said? Not worth the investment?”*
Lily went sheet-white. Davids head whipped toward her.
*”What loan? What IVF?”*
*”Oh, he doesnt know?”* I feigned surprise. *”Well, David, your *catch* here has been living off *my* money for six months. And not just her.”*
I turned back to him.
*”Your things,”* I nodded to the suitcase in the hall, *”will be delivered to your mums tomorrow. Divorce papers are with my solicitor. Now kindly get off my doorstep.”*
I shut the doorslowly, pointedly. The lock *clicked.*
Muffled shouting erupted. Accusations flew. *”You said it was a cyst!” “You said you were divorced!”* Then silence.
The next morning, I called Dad. Told him everythingno tears, just facts. A long pause. Then: *”You did right, love.”*
A week later, David called from an unknown number. His voice was hollow.
*”Anna Im sorry. I was an idiot. Lilyshes a nightmare.”*
I said nothing.
*”I got sacked. Geoffrey said I left them in the lurch. Living with Mum nowshe wont stop nagging. Anna, Ive lost everything. Can we start over?”*
I let the silence stretch.
*”David, I checked our finances. Found a few *personal loans* taken out in my name. For *business ventures.* So I sold the car. Cleared the debt.”*
A stunned pause.
*”Youyou *sold* it? You had no right!”*
*”I had every right to protect myself,”* I said. *”Your future is your problem now. Good luck.”*
I hung up.
A year later, I sat in a Florentine café, sketching in my notebook.
In twelve months, Id travelled most of Italy, and my long-abandoned passion for painting had become a proper little business. I sold watercolours
