Can me and my new wife stay at your cottage? Weve got nowhere else, my ex asked. I said yes. Then I called the police and filed a report for trespassing.
Found out yet? The voice on the phone was sickeningly familiar. Soft, wheedlingthe same one that had once sworn eternal love.
I stayed silent, tracing frost patterns on the windowpane. A call from my ex-husband, David, after two years of near-silence, never meant anything good. It was always the prelude to a favour.
Annie, dont just sit there. Ive got a situation.
Im listening, I replied flatly, my voice as brittle as a twig in winter.
He hesitated, testing the waters. This was his waydipping a toe in before diving headfirst into a demand.
I know it sounds odd but me and Lucy are in a tight spot. Had to leave our flat, cant find a new one.
I let him talk, each word a pebble dropped into the still pond of my hard-won peace.
Could we stay at the cottage? Just a couple months, till we sort things out. Well be quietyou wont even know were there.
*Me and my new wife have nowhere to golet us have the cottage.* Said so casually, like asking to pass the salt.
As if thered never been the lies, the betrayal, the way hed walked out, leaving me to stitch myself back together.
A memory flashedtwenty years ago, building that cottage. Young, sunburnt David with a hammer in hand, grinning:
*This is our fortress, Annie! No matter what, well always have this place. Our safe haven.*
How poisonous those words tasted now. *Our* safe haven. Hed brought another woman into it. Now he wanted to make her its mistress.
David, have you lost your mind? I asked, straining to keep my voice steady.
Annie, please. Weve got nowhere else. You know Lucys pregnant. We cant sleep on the streets.
Hed aimed for the sorest spot. Children. The one thing wed never had. And nowjust like thatthey were having one.
I shut my eyes. Two warring beasts inside me: one wanted to scream every vile thought Id ever had about him, slam the phone down, and forget him forever. But the other the other whispered: *This is your chance.* Not to forgive. To set things right.
We *vowed* to support each other, no matter what, he pressed, voice turning pleading. Leveraging duty, the *good girl* Id been for him all those years.
Another memory. Our wedding day. Young and foolish, hed looked into my eyes: *Ill never betray you.* Fifteen years later, packing his bags: *Sorry, it just happened. Feelings fade.*
Betrayed. Faded. Now begging for help.
A cold clarity settled over me. The plan formed in an instant. Brutal. Perfect.
Fine, I said, calm as still water, surprising even myself. You can stay.
Relief gusted down the line. He babbled thanks, something about always knowing Id come through. I stopped listening.
Keys where its always been. Under the stone by the porch.
Thanks, Annie! Youre a lifesaver!
I hung up. The trap was set. Now to wait until the beast let its guard down.
Two days passed. I lived on edge, flinching at every phone buzz. Hed call againneeding reassurance I was still on the hook.
The call came Saturday morning.
Hi! Were here, its brilliant, David chirped, tone now proprietorial, not pleading.
Place needs workcobwebs, gardens a mess. But dont worry, me and Lucy will sort it.
My knuckles whitened on the counter. *Well sort it.* In *my* house.
I didnt ask you to *sort* anything, I enunciated. I said you could stay.
Oh, come off it! Were improving it. Lucy says the airs good for the baby. Shes already picked a spot for flowerbedsright under the bedroom window.
*Our* bedroom. Where the wallpaper still bore scratches from the cat.
Leave my roses alone, was all I managed.
Who wants thorns anyway? he scoffed. Lucys planting peonies. Listen, theres morethe attics full of your junk. Boxes, old clothes. We need the space. Can I move it to the shed?
A flashback. Our first flat. David updating the bathroom by ripping out tiles Mum and I had spent weeks choosing. *Theyre dated, AnnieIll modernise it.* The result: crooked, cheap, and brutal on our savings. His initiatives always cost me too much.
Dont touch my things, David.
Why cling to tat? he snapped. We need room! Cant you be reasonable? Lucys stressedits bad for the baby!
A whisper, then a sickly-sweet voicehis new flame:
Davey, dont shout. Ask nicely. Annie, love, we mean no harm. Just need space for the crib, pram
A performance. He pushed, she softened. Expected me to melt and hand over everything.
I said: dont touch my things. Dont plant in my garden. Live in the house and be grateful.
Grateful? he exploded. I wasted fifteen years on you! And you moan about old clothes? FineIm changing the shed lock. Lost the key. Fetch your boxes *later*.
He hung up.
I stared at the citys grey sprawl. He wasnt just living in my homehe was colonising it. Erasing me. A new lock wasnt cheekit was war.
Very well. War hed get.
I waited a week. Carried onwork, friends, surface normalcy. Beneath it: ice-clear resolve.
Next Saturday, I drove to the cottage. Unannounced. Parked round the bend, crept up like a thief.
First sight: my rose bushesthe ones Mum planteduprooted, tossed by the fence like corpses.
In their place: fresh soil, pale shoots. Peonies.
Something inside me snapped. This wasnt just arrogance. It was desecration.
I circled the house. New wicker chairs on the porch. Frilly curtains in the windows. Sinking roots.
The shed door stood ajarthe one hed re-locked. Inside:
My boxes, ripped open. Belongings strewn in filth. Mums letters, their ribbon trampled. My diaries, pages torn.
Atop the wreckage: my wedding dress. Once white, now soiled with grease and dirt. A beer bottle beside it.
They hadnt just cleared space. Theyd relished destroying what mattered to me. Trampling my past.
Enough.
The *good girl Annie*, whod feared conflict and people-pleased, died in that shed, staring at her defiled dress. In her place: something calm. Icy. Ruthless.
No shouting. No storming in. Just a quiet turn, a walk back to the car.
Hands steady on the wheel, mind eerily clear.
First stop: a hardware shop. The heaviest padlock and chain I could find.
By 7 AM the next day, I stood at the gate. Wrapped it in chain. Clicked the lock shut.
Sat in the car, watching.
At ten, David ambled out. Stretched. Tugged the gateonce, twice. Froze.
His relaxation twisted into panic. He rattled the chain like a wild thing.
Lucy scurried out. Her shriek pierced my closed windows.
My phone rang.
What the hell?! David roared. Youve locked us in!
Securing my property, I replied, voice glacial. Since locks clearly mean nothing to you.
This is insane! Lucys pregnantwhat if she needs an ambulance? Open it!
An ambulance? Of course. Im calling the police. Filing a report for trespass, vandalism, and criminal damage. Im sure *theyll* have bolt-cutters.
Silence. Lucys whimpers.
Trespass?! You *let* us in!
I allowed temporary shelter. You acted like owners. Dug up my roses, turned the shed into a tip. You crossed a line, David.
Its *rubbish*! he spat. Youd jail us over junk?!
Not junk. My past. What you betrayed, then tried to erase.
I hung up. Dialled 999. Calmly gave my address: *Intruders on my property. Destruction
