He returned for what was his… but it was too late.
Emily was about to turn in for the night when the doorbell chimed unexpectedly. Standing on the threshold was a man she never expected to see again.
“You?” she uttered in disbelief, swinging the door wide.
Before her stood her ex-husband—James. The very same man who had walked out eighteen months ago, slamming the door behind him, leaving everything for a younger mistress.
“Me,” he grinned. “Mind if I come in? It’s not like I’m a stranger here.”
Emily stepped aside. Whatever he wanted, dodging this conversation was impossible.
“I’ve got a proposal for you. Doubt you’ll refuse,” James began with a sly smirk, sinking into the worn-out sofa as if it still belonged to him.
Emily listened in silence, her eyes widening with every word. A proposal? Selling the flat where she had lived with their daughter since he left—just so he could afford a new place. The same flat he had surrendered willingly, playing the noble card back then.
“You said you wouldn’t claim the flat. You walked out, you left it behind,” she reminded him softly.
“I was in love then,” he waved off. “Things are different now.”
Emily exhaled sharply. The man before her wasn’t the James she once loved. He had turned greedy, tense—a stranger. He demanded, threatened, twisted words like a knife.
“I’m not selling anything,” she said firmly. “This flat hasn’t been yours for ages. Not even Margaret’s. She signed it over to me before you even married your Sophie.”
James shot upright.
“You weaselled your way in! Played the saint while she was sick! Now I see what you were after!”
“I didn’t scheme anything. I just didn’t abandon an ill old woman—unlike you. And yes, it was her decision. Her will, not mine.”
James stomped about the room like a caged beast. He’d lost. He thought he could waltz in, bark orders, and take what he wanted. Instead, he’d leave empty-handed.
“You were always selfish!” he spat on his way out.
“And you,” she replied calmly, “were always a coward. You never understood love. Go. And don’t come back.”
He lingered by the door for a heartbeat, as if waiting for her to change her mind. But she didn’t. She simply shut the door—for good.
Leaning against the cool wood, Emily closed her eyes. There was no ache in her chest, no lingering anger. Only lightness. And, suddenly, clarity: this was only the beginning. A life without him—and at last, her own.