Natasha Stephenson, I won’t live with your son anymore, and you can tell him that straight from me,” said Svetlana.

“Natasha, tell your son I wont be living with him anymore,” Emily said, her voice steady but cold.

“Oh, will you now?” Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms. “And whos going to take you in with a child in tow? I dont see a queue of princes lining up outside your door.”

Emily continued packing her daughter Sophies thingssmall, methodical movements. A warm jumper, folded neatly. Tiny shoes, tucked carefully into the bag. She had already packed her own essentials. The rest could wait.

She didnt cry. She didnt hesitate. One sleepless night had been enough to decideshe and Daniel were done.

She heard him return home late, his footsteps unsteady. He peered into their bedroom, then nudged open Sophies door. Emily pretended to sleep.

In the morning, before leaving for work, Daniel lingered outside their daughters room. He shifted, sighed, but couldnt bring himself to step inside. The conversation could wait until evening.

But there would be no conversation. In half an hour, Emily would call a taxi and leave with two-year-old Sophie for her parents house.

After last night, she never wanted to see Daniel again.

She had grown used to him stumbling home drunk on Fridays. But yesterday had been a Wednesday. Worse, shed asked him to come home early to watch Sophie while she met her friend Lucywho had promised to help her find remote work.

When she saw the state he was in, she rang Lucy to cancel. Daniel didnt like that.

“Who are you calling?” he snapped, his breath sharp with alcohol. “What meeting?”

“Lucy,” Emily answered tightly. “I was supposed to meet her, but I cant leave Sophie with you like this.”

“Why not?”

“Look at yourself!” she hissed. “Go sleep it off. You have work tomorrow.” She turned toward the kitchen.

“Stop!” Daniel grabbed her wrist, yanking her back. “Whats wrong with how I am? Had a few pints with the lads for Petes birthdaybig deal! Ill come home how I like, got it?”

Emily twisted free. “Let go! Youre hurting me!”

He staggered, nearly losing his balance. Then his fist cracked against her face.

She gasped, clutching her nose. Daniel blinked, as if surprised at himself. He opened his mouthto apologize? To justify? But Emily turned away, walking straight to Sophies room.

“Princess!” he spat after her before slamming the door behind him.

That word*princess*had been his mothers favourite insult. Natasha had never approved of Emily.

“Twenty-one and still leaching off her parents. *Studying*,” shed sneered. “At her age, I already had one child and another on the way!”

“A proper woman keeps house!” Natasha would say. “But this one? Too high and mighty. Mark my words, Daniel, youll regret this.”

Emilys parents hadnt liked Daniel either.

“Slow down, love,” her father had warned. “Plenty of fish in the sea. Live together first, if you mustthough I dont approve. But marriage? Thats forever. Look at his family, really look. Then decide.”

She had decided. And six months in, she realized her mistake. She couldve left then. But pride held her backadmitting her parents were right was too bitter a pill. Then came the pregnancy.

Sophies birth changed nothing. Daniel still expected Emily to handle everythinghousework, childcare, meals on the table.

“Other women manage!” hed snap if dinner wasnt ready. “What do you do all day, nap?”

“Sophies teethingshe wont let me put her down! If youd just hold her, I could cook”

But he never did.

The rose-tinted glasses had shattered long ago. She saw now what her mother had warned her about. She had tried to leave beforetwicebut Daniel promised to change. She had believed him.

After last night, she knew better.

Yes, facing her parents was humiliating. But staying with a man who raised his hand to her? Unthinkable. And she wouldnt let Sophie grow up thinking that was love.

Her mother spotted the taxi first.

“John, lookEmilys here. With bags.” Her voice was quiet. “Go help her.”

When Emily stepped inside and removed her sunglasses, her parents froze. Her left eye was swollen, a dark bruise blooming beneath it.

“*Daniel did this?*” her mother whispered.

Emily nodded.

“Ill kill him,” her father growled, grabbing his coat.

“No,” Emily said sharply. “Ill punish him my way. Just help me get Sophies crib and our things from his flat.”

Her father and uncle went to collect their belongings. Then her father drove her to A&E.

“If you want to press charges, youll need a report from the forensic medical examiner,” her uncle explained.

“Well go tomorrow,” her father said. “They take appointments.”

Daniel returned from work that evening with flowers and a teddy bear. But the flat was emptyno wife, no child, no crib.

He called Emily. Her phone was off. He rang her mother instead.

“Yes, Emily and Sophie are here,” her mother said coolly. “And dont bother coming roundmy husbands fists are itching. Shell file for divorce herself.”

Daniel kept calling. He even lurked outside her parents house. But Emily ignored him. If she took Sophie outside, she never strayed beyond the garden gate.

A week later, divorce papers arrived. Then came Natasha, marching up the path like a general.

“I dont want to talk to her,” Emily said.

“You should,” her mother insisted. “Clear the air.”

They met in the garden.

“Divorcing him, are you?” Natasha sneered. “One little slap, and youre off?”

“Your son *hit* me,” Emily said flatly.

“And you provoked him! A man comes home tipsyleave him be! But no, you had to pick a fight. Now youll make the child fatherless over it?”

“Natasha, I wont live with your son. You can tell him that.”

“Wholl take you now? A single mother?” Natasha snorted. “Good luck getting his flat or child support.”

“I dont want his flat. But I *will* get child supportand the courts will agree.”

She was right. The divorce was swiftthe medical report sealed it. Daniel was ordered to pay monthly support, plus an additional £400 for Emily until Sophie turned three.

Five years later, on the first day of school, Sophie stood among the other nervous first-years, clutching a too-big bouquet. Emily, her parents, and her new husband, James, watched proudly.

“Will Daddy come?” Sophie asked, glancing up.

“Hell be here,” Emily promised. “He just ranghes on his way.” She waved as a tall man pushed through the crowd.

But it wasnt Daniel. James grinned, scooping Sophie into a hug. They were expecting another child soon.

Daniel, meanwhile, was still alone. There had been womensome he liked, some who liked him. But whenever things turned serious, someone always whispered why his first marriage had ended.

Small towns have long memories. And Daniel had earned himself a nickname*Sofa Puncher*.

Maybe one day hed find a woman who didnt care. But so far, none had.

The universe has a way of balancing thingswhether you believe in it or not.