Mother Natalia, tell your son I won’t be living with him—that’s final,” declared Svetlana.

“Natalie, I will not live with your son any longeryou can tell him that yourself,” said Emily.

“Who do you think youll live with instead?” scoffed her mother-in-law. “Whod want you with a child in tow? I dont see a queue of princes waiting at the garden gate.”

Emily packed her daughters things with quiet precisionjust the essentials. The rest could stay. She folded Sophies warm jumper, tucked the little shoes beside it. No tears now, no hesitation. A sleepless night had settled itshe and Kevin had to part ways.

She heard him stumble in, fumbling at the bedroom door before shuffling to Sophies room. Emily pretended to sleep. In the morning, he lingered at the threshold, shifting awkwardly, but couldnt bring himself to enter. The talk could wait until evening.

There would be no talk.

Within the hour, she called a cab and left with two-year-old Sophie. After last night, she never wanted to see Kevin again.

Shed grown used to his Friday night bendersbut yesterday was Wednesday. Worse still, shed begged him to come home early, to watch Sophie while she met her friend Sarah about remote work. Seeing him drunk, shed cancelled. That set him off.

“Who the hell are you calling? What meeting?” hed snarled.

“Sarah. But I cant leave Sophie with you like this.”

“Why not?”

“Look at yourself! Go sleep it offyouve work tomorrow.” She turned toward the kitchen.

“Stop!” He grabbed her wrist. “Whats wrong with how I am, eh? Had a few lads round at Vinces birthday. Big deal, princess! Ill come home how I like!”

She wrenched free. “Let go! Youre hurting mehave you lost your mind?”

He stumbled, nearly fell. “Oh, thats how it is?” His fist struck her nose.

Emily clutched her face. Kevin, shocked by his own violence, released her, stammering. She walked away without a word.

“Princess!” he spat again before storming out.

That wordhis mothers favourite slur. Natalie had despised Emily from the start.

“Twenty-one and still leeching off her parents! Studying! At her age, I had one child and another on the way. A husband, a home, a garden to tend! But noshes a princess. Youll suffer with her, Kevin. Shouldve picked a simpler girl.”

Emilys parents had warned her too.

“Slow down, love! Kevins not the last man on earth. Infatuated? Finedate him, even live together, though you know how I feel about that. But marriage? Thinkcan you stand him a lifetime? Look at his family. Then decide.”

Shed decided wrong. Within six months, she knew it. But pride kept her thereadmitting her parents were right felt impossible. Then came the pregnancy.

Sophies birth changed nothing. Kevin still believed home and child were his wifes burden. Her exhaustion, Sophies feversnone excused an unmade dinner or untidy flat.

“Cant handle one kid? Other women manage!”

“Sophies teethingI cant cook while holding her. Order takeaway, or make pasta yourself!”

The rose-tinted glasses had shattered long ago. Her mothers warnings echoed louder each day. Shed nearly left several timesbut Kevin swore hed change. Shed believed him. Hoped.

Last night ended that hope. The first strike meant she wouldnt endure another. Not for herself. Not for Sophie.

Shame paled next to the shame of staying with a man whod raise a hand to her.

Her mother spotted the taxi first. “John, lookEmilys here. With bags. Help her.”

When Emily removed her sunglasses, her parents frozeher left eye swollen, purple blooming beneath.

“Kevin did this?” her mother gasped.

Emily nodded.

“Ill sort him,” her father growled.

“No, Dad. Ill punish him my way. Just help me get Sophies cot and our things.”

Her father and uncle retrieved their belongings, then took her to A&E.

“If you report him, the hospital note wont sufficeyoull need a forensic exam,” her uncle advised.

“Well go tomorrow,” her father said.

Kevin returned from work with flowers and a stuffed toyto an empty flat. No wife, no child, no cot.

Emilys phone was off. His mother-in-law answered his call.

“Yes, Emily and Sophie are here. Dont comemy husbands fists are itching. Shell file for divorce herself.”

He tried stalking her outside her parents house. She ignored his calls. If she took Sophie out, she stayed in the garden.

A week later, divorce papers arrived. Then came Natalies siege at the gate.

“I wont speak to her,” Emily said.

“You should,” her mother urged. “Closure.”

Natalie launched in. “Divorcing over one slap? You drove him to it! A man comes home tipsydont nag, let him sleep it off!”

“Tipsy? He broke my nose.”

“Ach, youll abandon him? Leave your child fatherless?”

“Natalie, I wont live with your son. Tell him that.”

“Wholl take you with a child? No princes lining up, dear.”

“Ill manage alone.”

“Then dont expect his flat or maintenance!”

“I dont want his flat. But Ill claim child supportand the court will side with me.”

It did. The medical report sped the divorce. Maintenance was grantedplus £350 monthly for Emily until Sophie turned three.

Five years later, Sophie stood at her school gate, clutching a too-big bouquet. Her grandparents and mother wavedthen Emily spotted him, scanning the crowd.

Not Kevin.

Three years ago, shed married Alex, a colleague. Now they awaited another child.

Kevin remained alone. Thered been women he liked, some who liked himbut before things turned serious, someone always whispered why his first wife left.

Small towns have long memories.

His nickname stuck”Sofa Boxer.”

Maybe one day a woman would overlook it.

Not yet.

The boomerang effectsome still dont believe in it.