Mum, you simply must find a new husband as soon as possible! Very, very urgently!
Sarah nearly dropped the cup of coffee, which even splashed a little onto the tablecloth. She set it down on the table, cleared her throat, and looked intently at her daughter.
“Explain what’s going on,” she requested, trying to speak evenly. “Where did this demand come from?”
The girl shifted from foot to foot, lowered her eyes, and began examining the pattern on the carpet. Emily felt awkward, but she was firmly convinced of the rightness of her action.
“You see… Today I told dad that you have a man,” she sighed heavily. “He just pestered me with questions! He keeps asking if you’ve found someone! All this time I answered ‘no’ and then he would launch into a long-winded speech about what a big mistake you made by leaving him. That you don’t understand anything in life, since you allowed yourself to lose such a wonderful man!”
She raised her gaze to her mother. Her eyes showed annoyance, confusion, and even anger at her father.
“And also… he keeps repeating that you’ll soon realise how wrong you were and come back. Like, you’ll definitely not find anyone better. So I lost my temper. I declared that you had met someone.”
Sarah ran a hand through her hair. Memories immediately surfaced of her former husband’s familiar intonations that feigned confidence, that habit of turning any conversation into a monologue about his own correctness.
“I can imagine the colourful epithets he uses to accompany it,” she said with light irony. “He still can’t come to terms with the fact that I left him, the perfect one. Sometimes I think Mark only insists on your weekend visits for the sake of his own monologues. It’s important for him not to chat with you, but to get the latest gossip. He’s healing his self-esteem that way.”
Emily sighed heavily and plopped down on the sofa, habitually tucking her legs under her. Leaning on a pillow, she absentmindedly ran her hand over the soft fabric of the upholstery, trying to gather her thoughts.
“Yes, I think so too,” she said, looking off to the side. “You have to listen to how amazing he is for an hour and a half. The rest of the time I’m completely free he doesn’t even ask how I’m doing. He doesn’t even ask how my studies are going or if I need anything…”
The girl spoke about this so matter-of-factly, as if describing the usual daily routine: getting up, breakfast, school, homework. For Emily this had indeed long become ordinary so much so that it didn’t even evoke emotions.
She leaned back on the sofa back and stared at the ceiling, mentally replaying the recent conversation with her father. As always, it all started with his latest achievement this time he detailed how cleverly he had conducted negotiations with partners. Then he moved on to his plans for the future, the difficulties he faces at work, how everyone around underestimates his contribution. An hour and a half of monologue Emily even mentally noted the time so as not to forget to mention it in the conversation with her mum.
And when she tried to tell about her school maths olympiad, her father only nodded distractedly and immediately changed the subject to his affairs. Well done, of course, but you know, at my age I already… and then again a string of stories about his successes.
The girl slightly shrugged her shoulders, driving away the memories. She had long been accustomed to this order of things. As far back as Emily could remember, dad was always absorbed only in his own person. The other family members seemed to exist somewhere on the periphery of his attention important, but not enough to distract from the main thing himself.
Any conversations he inevitably turned to himself and his problems. If mum complained of fatigue, he immediately began to tell how hard it was for him at work. If Emily shared worries about friends, father found a way to turn the topic to his school years of course, much brighter and more eventful. He seemed not to notice others’ concerns or considered them insignificant.
Emily still couldn’t understand how mum had endured fifteen years next to such a person. He was literally fixated on his own radiant persona! Perhaps mum only held on for her sake, not wanting the daughter to grow up without a father. In childhood Emily sincerely believed that someday dad would change, start noticing them, take interest in their lives… But the years passed, and nothing changed. And only after the divorce did the girl discover with surprise that life without him was much calmer! No one pulls all the attention to themselves, considering others’ trifles insignificant.
“And why am I obliged to urgently find myself a life companion?” Sarah’s voice sounded a bit sharper than she probably wanted. “Well, you said it and said it what’s the big deal?”
“You see, when dad heard this, he completely changed!” Emily involuntarily winced, pressing one of the pillows scattered on the sofa to her chest. “First he turned pale, then red and started yelling so that even the neighbour came running! To be honest, I even got a bit scared.”
She fell silent for a moment, recalling that scene. Father’s voice, unusually high and breaking, his hands clenched into fists, darting gaze. It seemed he was about to burst from the emotions overwhelming him.
“He demanded that I name that man and describe him in all details,” Emily continued, fingering the edge of the pillow. “I refused, said that you asked not to say anything, especially to him… I wouldn’t be surprised if he starts calling you soon and pestering you.”
Sarah slowly turned around, leaned against the windowsill and looked intently at her daughter. An interesting day awaits her… She can easily imagine the level of Mark’s hysteria… You did me a favour, daughter, nothing to say…
Sarah sat down on the sofa next to Emily and sighed heavily, hugging her daughter. Well, now there’s nothing to be done. The words were said, and it won’t be possible to take them back…
“Why did you make this up?” she asked quietly, gently rocking Emily in her arms. “We were living peacefully! Now we’ll have to listen to his hysterics and whining again. I even felt like turning off the phone.”
Emily gently wriggled out of the embrace, sat up straight and looked seriously at her mother. Her eyes shone with genuine conviction.
“Because you’re wonderful!” she said confidently. “You’re beautiful, smart, you have many friends, and men find you popular! Do you think I don’t see? But dad keeps saying nasty things about you! I’ve had enough!”
The woman gently stroked her daughter’s hair, carefully running her fingers through the soft strands. Her gaze showed tenderness and slight bewilderment.
“I understand, sunshine, I understand,” she said softly. “To be honest, I thought you wouldn’t want me to start serious relationships. After all, only six months have passed since the divorce from your father.”
These words were not easy for her. Somewhere deep in her soul she feared that her daughter might perceive a new romance as betrayal or an attempt to replace her father. Sarah carefully peered into Emily’s face, trying to catch the slightest signs of discontent.
“Nonsense!” Emily snorted, and her voice had such sincere determination that Sarah couldn’t help but smile. “The main thing is that you’re happy!”
The girl crossed her arms over her chest, smiling at her mother. At that moment she looked surprisingly adult wise beyond her years and ready to defend her opinion.
Sarah continued to look at her daughter, and the anxiety in her heart gradually melted away. Emily spoke so confidently that doubts began to recede. Maybe she really does think too much about the past and is afraid of the future?
“You’re my clever one,” Sarah said quietly, pulling her daughter to her again. “Thank you for caring so much about your mum.”
Emily pressed against her, settling comfortably at her side. At this moment both felt how it was becoming even warmer and calmer between them as if their small family, despite everything, was only growing stronger with each passing day…
Sarah sat at her desk, trying to focus on the report. The lines blurred before her eyes, and a dull ache pulsed in her temples, which had only slightly hinted at its presence in the morning but had grown to unbearable proportions by lunchtime. The woman tiredly massaged her temples, hoping to ease the condition at least a little. The movements were slow, almost mechanical she had already done them dozens of times that day.
After thinking for a couple of minutes, Sarah nevertheless decided and asked a colleague to go to the pharmacy it was literally a two-minute walk from the office. Returning with the tablets, she washed them down with water from the jug and tried again to read the documents. Useless. Her head felt as if it had been filled with lead, and every sound the clatter of the keyboard, the hum of the air conditioner, distant conversations in the corridor resonated in her with a sharp wave.
At that moment the security guard looked into the office. His face was polite, but his eyes showed some wariness.
“Sarah, you have a visitor,” he said, slightly opening the door. “Your ex-husband insists on a meeting. Will you come down or should we help him leave?”
Sarah froze. A wave of irritation mixed with fatigue rose inside. She took a deep breath, trying to maintain external calm.
“I’ll come down now, sorry for the inconvenience,” she replied, getting up from the desk.
Mentally she swore. How untimely! Everything was turning out worse than ever. The workday had already been heavy, her head was splitting, and now Mark had decided to show up without warning. Why didn’t he call? Why did he come straight to work, where there are plenty of strangers? Did he really decide to stage a scene right in the office?
She slowly headed for the exit, trying not to hurry sudden movements only intensified the headache. The corridor was lively: employees hurried about their business, someone laughed at the coffee machine, someone discussed a project at the board with notes. Sarah walked past them, feeling the tension tightening her shoulders.
Sarah entered the hall and immediately saw Mark. He was pacing back and forth, now approaching the reception desk, now stepping back a couple of steps. His movements were sharp, impulsive he was emotionally waving his arms, proving something to the guards, periodically raising his voice. The faces of the security staff showed restrained dissatisfaction: they tried to maintain politeness, but were clearly ready to move to more decisive actions if the situation got out of control.
“What do you need?” Sarah asked without preamble, approaching closer. Her voice sounded even, although irritation was growing inside. “What kind of performance have you staged here? Do you want to get to know the police better? I can arrange that.”
Mark turned sharply at the sound of her voice. His face was red, his eyes burning with an unclear fire either from anger or from agitation. He jumped up to his ex-wife, accusingly pointing a finger at her, as if he had caught her in some crime.
“You!” he shouted. “You! Emily told me everything! Only six months after the divorce, and you’ve already found yourself a new man?”
His voice mixed disbelief, resentment and obvious jealousy. It seemed he had hoped until the last that his daughter was mistaken or just trying to play a trick on him. But now, looking at Sarah’s calm face, he understood that this was no joke.
Sarah raised her eyebrows in surprise, slightly tilting her head to the side. Her posture remained relaxed, but a cold glint flashed in her eyes.
“Am I supposed to remain faithful to you forever?” she asked in an even tone. “Even after the divorce? You’re asking too much, dear. Especially considering that even in marriage you didn’t consider fidelity an obligatory virtue.”
Mark froze for a moment, as if not knowing how to react. His hand, still extended towards her, slowly lowered. Something like bewilderment flashed in his eyes he clearly did not expect such a calm, confident rebuff.
People continued to walk around: employees, visitors, couriers… Someone cast curious glances in their direction, someone tried not to pay attention. But for Mark and Sarah the whole world narrowed for a moment to this small space between them a space filled with old grievances, unspoken reproaches and a new reality that was hard for him to come to terms with.
“You… you’re just…” he finally squeezed out, but Sarah didn’t let him finish.
“Let’s not make scenes, Mark,” her voice became a little softer, but no less firm. “If you need to discuss something, we can talk calmly. But not here and not like this.”
“Scenes? I’ll show you a scene!”
Mark was almost shouting, and his voice echoed through the spacious office hall. His face was covered with crimson spots, veins stood out on his neck, and his fists clenched and unclenched involuntarily, betraying extreme nervous tension. He either took a step forward or stepped back, as if he couldn’t decide how best to deliver his threat.
“I won’t allow my daughter to live under the same roof with an unknown person!” he shouted, not noticing that he was attracting the attention of employees passing by. “I’ll take Emily away from you! You’ll never see her again! You…”
His words sounded sharp, almost hysterical, but Sarah only slightly raised an eyebrow, maintaining an expression of calm indifference on her face. Take the daughter? Well, she’d like to see that! Any court would side with her!
“All said? Quite the performer,” she said in an even, slightly mocking tone. And clarified: “From the circus.”
“What’s going on here?”
Mark stopped mid-sentence and turned sharply at the unfamiliar voice. In the doorway leading to the hall stood a man in an elegant dark blue suit. His posture was casually confident, and his gaze calm and attentive. The guards, who had previously tried to delicately restrain Mark, instantly stood at attention obviously this was a person who held a significant position in the company.
“Don’t interfere!” Mark hissed, casting an irritated glance at the stranger. His face was still blazing with anger, and his voice carried open hostility. “This is a personal matter, it doesn’t concern you.”
The man did not rush to answer. He slowly walked forward, stopping a little apart, so as to see both interlocutors. He smirked, which wound Mark up even more.
“A personal matter is when you talk to your wife in private,” he finally said. “But when you stage a scandal in a public place, it ceases to be personal and becomes public.”
Sarah silently observed this scene, feeling the tension in the air become almost tangible. She had not expected Robert Harrington’s appearance, but his intervention, although unexpected, seemed appropriate to her at least it knocked Mark off his usual track of threats and shouts.
Mark took a step towards the man, clearly intending to respond sharply, but he did not flinch. His gaze remained calm, almost impassive, as if he was accustomed to dealing with much more emotional opponents.
“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Mark hissed through his teeth, trying to maintain the remnants of his composure. “Sticking your nose into someone else’s business!”
Robert Harrington took several confident steps forward. He approached Sarah, who was still standing in slight bewilderment, not fully understanding what was happening, and gently put his arm around her waist. Demonstratively, leaving no room for imagination.
“Who am I?” he said in an even, almost everyday tone, but his voice carried such cold determination that even Mark involuntarily stepped back. “I am the one who makes Sarah happy. You allow yourself to yell at my woman, and I don’t forgive that. A trip to the police won’t get you out of this, I’ll make sure you have more problems than you can count. And if you dare to use the daughter as a bargaining chip… I think you’ve understood me, haven’t you?”
Mark froze. His face, which had recently been burning with anger, gradually lost its crimson hue, turning pale. He shifted his gaze from Robert Harrington to Sarah, as if trying to realise that the situation had gotten out of his control. Something like bewilderment flashed in his eyes he clearly had not expected to meet such a confident and cool-headed opponent.
For several minutes he stood silently, clenching and unclenching his fists, as if struggling with the desire to say something sharp. But the words did not come either because of the overwhelming confidence with which Robert Harrington spoke, or because of the realisation that his usual methods would not work here.
Finally, he grimaced, muttered something indistinct, barely audible, and turned sharply. His gait, which had recently been pushy and aggressive, now looked constrained, as if he was trying with all his might to preserve the remnants of his dignity. Before leaving the hall, he turned around and threw over his shoulder:
“You can forget about the child support!”
“I don’t need it anyway,” Sarah snorted as he disappeared behind the door. Her voice sounded light, almost mocking, but there was genuine relief in it. “But at least Emily won’t have to go to her father’s anymore!”
A moment later Sarah suddenly realised that the warm, confident hand of the general director was still resting on her waist. This touch, so simple and at the same time meaningful, made her slightly embarrassed. She involuntarily lowered her gaze, feeling a light blush spreading across her cheeks, and carefully stepped away, trying to do it as naturally as possible.
With a light, slightly confused smile she turned to her unexpected saviour:
“Thank you so much, Mr. Harrington. You can’t even imagine how much you’ve helped!”
Her voice sounded sincere, without a shadow of affectation. At this moment she really felt enormous gratitude not only for intervening in the unpleasant scene, but also for how confidently and calmly he had done it.
The man smiled slightly, his eyes warming for a moment.
“Shall we discuss this over lunch?” he suggested, extending his hand in a gesture of invitation.
Sarah froze for a second, considering the proposal. The usual doubts flashed through her head isn’t it too soon, won’t it look frivolous? But almost immediately she dismissed these thoughts. Robert Harrington had behaved correctly, respectfully, and she really wanted to talk to him without haste and strangers.
Moreover, curiosity was kindling inside: who he really was, why he decided to intervene, what was hidden behind this calm confidence?
“Of course,” she replied, placing her palm in his hand.
The touch turned out to be unexpectedly pleasant firm, reliable, but without intrusiveness. Sarah felt the tension that had gripped her since Mark’s appearance gradually leave, leaving room for light excitement and even anticipation.
Later, at a cozy table in a small restaurant near the office, the conversation flowed more freely. The soft light of the lamps, unobtrusive music and the aroma of fresh pastries created a welcoming atmosphere.
Gradually, in the course of a casual conversation, she learned that her saviour had long harboured tender feelings for her. He told about this simply, without pathos or beautiful phrases rather as something natural that had long matured inside but had found no outlet.
“I hesitated for a long time to approach,” he admitted, stirring his coffee with a spoon. “You always seemed so focused, serious… I understood that you were going through a difficult period after the divorce, and didn’t want to pressure or seem intrusive.”
Sarah listened without interrupting. There was no trace of arrogance or self-satisfaction in his words only sincerity and respect for her personal space.
“And today, when I saw that man yelling at you…” Robert Harrington frowned disapprovingly. “I just couldn’t stay aside!”
The woman could not hold back a soft smile. So that’s how it was! She had noticed the boss’s glances before, but had misinterpreted them! Robert was quite attractive to her, but because of the difference in position she would never have dared to make the first move…
Three months after that tense scene in the office, Sarah and Robert officially became husband and wife. The wedding turned out magnificent; the man fulfilled literally all of Sarah’s dreams, carrying out any wish.
Emily sincerely rejoiced for her mum. On the wedding day she helped Sarah get ready, carefully ensuring that everything was perfect from the hairstyle to the last button on the dress. When the newlyweds exchanged rings, the girl smiled and hugged both tightly.
“I’m so happy for you!” she whispered, and her eyes shone with genuine joy.
At the same time, Emily immediately honestly warned that she was not yet ready to call Robert dad.
“I like you, Robert,” she said on one of the first evenings when they were left alone together. “And I’m glad that mum isn’t alone. But dad… No matter what he is, I already have a dad.”
Robert nodded without a shadow of offense:
“I understand. And that’s right, Emily. The main thing is that we’re together.”
Mark also received an invitation to the wedding more as a taunt than seriously. Sarah hesitated whether to send him the envelope, but in the end decided let him know that her life goes on, and without him. She sent the invitation by post, without an accompanying letter just a card with the date, time and address.
Naturally, Mark did not show up at the wedding. He didn’t even seriously consider coming the very thought of it caused a mixture of irritation and bitter resentment in him. Instead, he found another way to vent the accumulated discontent: he began calling mutual acquaintances.
The first call he made was already the next day after receiving the invitation. His voice sounded deliberately calm, but tension clearly showed in the intonations.
“Can you imagine, she invited me to her wedding!” he blurted out, without waiting for the interlocutor to finish the greeting. “After everything that happened!”
The interlocutor (an old university friend) politely inquired what exactly seemed so outrageous to Mark. But he only waved it off:
“How could she? Humiliate me like that!”
In the following days this scene repeated again and again. Mark dialled one number after another, and each conversation began the same way with this phrase about the invitation, spoken with barely restrained indignation. He seemed to be trying to find confirmation of his rightness in others’ words, waiting for someone to say: “Yes, that’s really disgusting.”
But the acquaintances reacted restrainedly. Some nodded sympathetically, some brushed it off with general phrases like “Well, everyone has their own life”, and some just remained silent, not knowing what to answer. And the more often Mark repeated his monologue, the more clearly he understood that his arguments sounded unconvincing.
Then he began to claim that Sarah was rushing too much with the new marriage:
“Only six months have passed! Can you really find true love in such a short time? It’s just an attempt to escape reality. She’s just trying to forget me, you know?”
Then he suddenly switched to something else:
“She didn’t even give me a chance to fix everything! If we had talked, I could have…”
He didn’t finish what exactly he could have get her back, change something in himself, start everything anew.
And sometimes his claims took a completely strange turn:
“I did so much for her, and she… Didn’t even say thank you. Just took and left. And took the daughter with her!”
These accusations of “ingratitude” sounded especially unconvincing. The acquaintances exchanged glances, shrugged their shoulders, and someone cautiously noted:
“What should she thank you for? You were married, that’s natural!”
Mark fell silent, feeling annoyance growing inside. He understood that his words were not producing the effect he had hoped for. No one shared his indignation, no one called Sarah “dishonest” or “frivolous”. On the contrary, everyone seemed to think that she had the right to live on and this angered him even more.
In the end, tired of the fruitless conversations, Mark stopped calling. He sat in his apartment, looked at the small things left from Sarah a forgotten hair clip on the shelf, an old photo album in the cupboard, a couple of dresses that had become too small and understood that, no matter how you look at it, life goes on. Only he had not yet managed to find his place in this new life.
In the end, tired of the fruitless conversations, Mark fell silent. And the life of Sarah, Robert and Emily went on as usual calm, measured, filled with small joys: joint dinners, weekend walks, funny arguments about which film to watch in the evening. Through all the challenges, they realised that moving forward from toxic pasts allows for the growth of genuine happiness, and that a family’s strength comes from mutual care and the courage to embrace new beginnings without fear.Mum, you simply must find a new husband as soon as possible! Very, very urgently!
Sarah nearly dropped the cup of coffee, which even splashed a little onto the tablecloth. She set it down on the table, cleared her throat, and looked intently at her daughter.
“Explain what’s going on,” she requested, trying to speak evenly. “Where did this demand come from?”
The girl shifted from foot to foot, lowered her eyes, and began examining the pattern on the carpet. Emily felt awkward, but she was firmly convinced of the rightness of her action.
“You see… Today I told dad that you have a man,” she sighed heavily. “He just pestered me with questions! He keeps asking if you’ve found someone! All this time I answered ‘no’ and then he would launch into a long-winded speech about what a big mistake you made by leaving him. That you don’t understand anything in life, since you allowed yourself to lose such a wonderful man!”
She raised her gaze to her mother. Her eyes showed annoyance, confusion, and even anger at her father.
“And also… he keeps repeating that you’ll soon realise how wrong you were and come back. Like, you’ll definitely not find anyone better. So I lost my temper. I declared that you had met someone.”
Sarah ran a hand through her hair. Memories immediately surfaced of her former husband’s familiar intonations that feigned confidence, that habit of turning any conversation into a monologue about his own correctness.
“I can imagine the colourful epithets he uses to accompany it,” she said with light irony. “He still can’t come to terms with the fact that I left him, the perfect one. Sometimes I think Mark only insists on your weekend visits for the sake of his own monologues. It’s important for him not to chat with you, but to get the latest gossip. He’s healing his self-esteem that way.”
Emily sighed heavily and plopped down on the sofa, habitually tucking her legs under her. Leaning on a pillow, she absentmindedly ran her hand over the soft fabric of the upholstery, trying to gather her thoughts.
“Yes, I think so too,” she said, looking off to the side. “You have to listen to how amazing he is for an hour and a half. The rest of the time I’m completely free he doesn’t even ask how I’m doing. He doesn’t even ask how my studies are going or if I need anything…”
The girl spoke about this so matter-of-factly, as if describing the usual daily routine: getting up, breakfast, school, homework. For Emily this had indeed long become ordinary so much so that it didn’t even evoke emotions.
She leaned back on the sofa back and stared at the ceiling, mentally replaying the recent conversation with her father. As always, it all started with his latest achievement this time he detailed how cleverly he had conducted negotiations with partners. Then he moved on to his plans for the future, the difficulties he faces at work, how everyone around underestimates his contribution. An hour and a half of monologue Emily even mentally noted the time so as not to forget to mention it in the conversation with her mum.
And when she tried to tell about her school maths olympiad, her father only nodded distractedly and immediately changed the subject to his affairs. Well done, of course, but you know, at my age I already… and then again a string of stories about his successes.
The girl slightly shrugged her shoulders, driving away the memories. She had long been accustomed to this order of things. As far back as Emily could remember, dad was always absorbed only in his own person. The other family members seemed to exist somewhere on the periphery of his attention important, but not enough to distract from the main thing himself.
Any conversations he inevitably turned to himself and his problems. If mum complained of fatigue, he immediately began to tell how hard it was for him at work. If Emily shared worries about friends, father found a way to turn the topic to his school years of course, much brighter and more eventful. He seemed not to notice others’ concerns or considered them insignificant.
Emily still couldn’t understand how mum had endured fifteen years next to such a person. He was literally fixated on his own radiant persona! Perhaps mum only held on for her sake, not wanting the daughter to grow up without a father. In childhood Emily sincerely believed that someday dad would change, start noticing them, take interest in their lives… But the years passed, and nothing changed. And only after the divorce did the girl discover with surprise that life without him was much calmer! No one pulls all the attention to themselves, considering others’ trifles insignificant.
“And why am I obliged to urgently find myself a life companion?” Sarah’s voice sounded a bit sharper than she probably wanted. “Well, you said it and said it what’s the big deal?”
“You see, when dad heard this, he completely changed!” Emily involuntarily winced, pressing one of the pillows scattered on the sofa to her chest. “First he turned pale, then red and started yelling so that even the neighbour came running! To be honest, I even got a bit scared.”
She fell silent for a moment, recalling that scene. Father’s voice, unusually high and breaking, his hands clenched into fists, darting gaze. It seemed he was about to burst from the emotions overwhelming him.
“He demanded that I name that man and describe him in all details,” Emily continued, fingering the edge of the pillow. “I refused, said that you asked not to say anything, especially to him… I wouldn’t be surprised if he starts calling you soon and pestering you.”
Sarah slowly turned around, leaned against the windowsill and looked intently at her daughter. An interesting day awaits her… She can easily imagine the level of Mark’s hysteria… You did me a favour, daughter, nothing to say…
Sarah sat down on the sofa next to Emily and sighed heavily, hugging her daughter. Well, now there’s nothing to be done. The words were said, and it won’t be possible to take them back…
“Why did you make this up?” she asked quietly, gently rocking Emily in her arms. “We were living peacefully! Now we’ll have to listen to his hysterics and whining again. I even felt like turning off the phone.”
Emily gently wriggled out of the embrace, sat up straight and looked seriously at her mother. Her eyes shone with genuine conviction.
“Because you’re wonderful!” she said confidently. “You’re beautiful, smart, you have many friends, and men find you popular! Do you think I don’t see? But dad keeps saying nasty things about you! I’ve had enough!”
The woman gently stroked her daughter’s hair, carefully running her fingers through the soft strands. Her gaze showed tenderness and slight bewilderment.
“I understand, sunshine, I understand,” she said softly. “To be honest, I thought you wouldn’t want me to start serious relationships. After all, only six months have passed since the divorce from your father.”
These words were not easy for her. Somewhere deep in her soul she feared that her daughter might perceive a new romance as betrayal or an attempt to replace her father. Sarah carefully peered into Emily’s face, trying to catch the slightest signs of discontent.
“Nonsense!” Emily snorted, and her voice had such sincere determination that Sarah couldn’t help but smile. “The main thing is that you’re happy!”
The girl crossed her arms over her chest, smiling at her mother. At that moment she looked surprisingly adult wise beyond her years and ready to defend her opinion.
Sarah continued to look at her daughter, and the anxiety in her heart gradually melted away. Emily spoke so confidently that doubts began to recede. Maybe she really does think too much about the past and is afraid of the future?
“You’re my clever one,” Sarah said quietly, pulling her daughter to her again. “Thank you for caring so much about your mum.”
Emily pressed against her, settling comfortably at her side. At this moment both felt how it was becoming even warmer and calmer between them as if their small family, despite everything, was only growing stronger with each passing day…
Sarah sat at her desk, trying to focus on the report. The lines blurred before her eyes, and a dull ache pulsed in her temples, which had only slightly hinted at its presence in the morning but had grown to unbearable proportions by lunchtime. The woman tiredly massaged her temples, hoping to ease the condition at least a little. The movements were slow, almost mechanical she had already done them dozens of times that day.
After thinking for a couple of minutes, Sarah nevertheless decided and asked a colleague to go to the pharmacy it was literally a two-minute walk from the office. Returning with the tablets, she washed them down with water from the jug and tried again to read the documents. Useless. Her head felt as if it had been filled with lead, and every sound the clatter of the keyboard, the hum of the air conditioner, distant conversations in the corridor resonated in her with a sharp wave.
At that moment the security guard looked into the office. His face was polite, but his eyes showed some wariness.
“Sarah, you have a visitor,” he said, slightly opening the door. “Your ex-husband insists on a meeting. Will you come down or should we help him leave?”
Sarah froze. A wave of irritation mixed with fatigue rose inside. She took a deep breath, trying to maintain external calm.
“I’ll come down now, sorry for the inconvenience,” she replied, getting up from the desk.
Mentally she swore. How untimely! Everything was turning out worse than ever. The workday had already been heavy, her head was splitting, and now Mark had decided to show up without warning. Why didn’t he call? Why did he come straight to work, where there are plenty of strangers? Did he really decide to stage a scene right in the office?
She slowly headed for the exit, trying not to hurry sudden movements only intensified the headache. The corridor was lively: employees hurried about their business, someone laughed at the coffee machine, someone discussed a project at the board with notes. Sarah walked past them, feeling the tension tightening her shoulders.
Sarah entered the hall and immediately saw Mark. He was pacing back and forth, now approaching the reception desk, now stepping back a couple of steps. His movements were sharp, impulsive he was emotionally waving his arms, proving something to the guards, periodically raising his voice. The faces of the security staff showed restrained dissatisfaction: they tried to maintain politeness, but were clearly ready to move to more decisive actions if the situation got out of control.
“What do you need?” Sarah asked without preamble, approaching closer. Her voice sounded even, although irritation was growing inside. “What kind of performance have you staged here? Do you want to get to know the police better? I can arrange that.”
Mark turned sharply at the sound of her voice. His face was red, his eyes burning with an unclear fire either from anger or from agitation. He jumped up to his ex-wife, accusingly pointing a finger at her, as if he had caught her in some crime.
“You!” he shouted. “You! Emily told me everything! Only six months after the divorce, and you’ve already found yourself a new man?”
His voice mixed disbelief, resentment and obvious jealousy. It seemed he had hoped until the last that his daughter was mistaken or just trying to play a trick on him. But now, looking at Sarah’s calm face, he understood that this was no joke.
Sarah raised her eyebrows in surprise, slightly tilting her head to the side. Her posture remained relaxed, but a cold glint flashed in her eyes.
“Am I supposed to remain faithful to you forever?” she asked in an even tone. “Even after the divorce? You’re asking too much, dear. Especially considering that even in marriage you didn’t consider fidelity an obligatory virtue.”
Mark froze for a moment, as if not knowing how to react. His hand, still extended towards her, slowly lowered. Something like bewilderment flashed in his eyes he clearly did not expect such a calm, confident rebuff.
People continued to walk around: employees, visitors, couriers… Someone cast curious glances in their direction, someone tried not to pay attention. But for Mark and Sarah the whole world narrowed for a moment to this small space between them a space filled with old grievances, unspoken reproaches and a new reality that was hard for him to come to terms with.
“You… you’re just…” he finally squeezed out, but Sarah didn’t let him finish.
“Let’s not make scenes, Mark,” her voice became a little softer, but no less firm. “If you need to discuss something, we can talk calmly. But not here and not like this.”
“Scenes? I’ll show you a scene!”
Mark was almost shouting, and his voice echoed through the spacious office hall. His face was covered with crimson spots, veins stood out on his neck, and his fists clenched and unclenched involuntarily, betraying extreme nervous tension. He either took a step forward or stepped back, as if he couldn’t decide how best to deliver his threat.
“I won’t allow my daughter to live under the same roof with an unknown person!” he shouted, not noticing that he was attracting the attention of employees passing by. “I’ll take Emily away from you! You’ll never see her again! You…”
His words sounded sharp, almost hysterical, but Sarah only slightly raised an eyebrow, maintaining an expression of calm indifference on her face. Take the daughter? Well, she’d like to see that! Any court would side with her!
“All said? Quite the performer,” she said in an even, slightly mocking tone. And clarified: “From the circus.”
“What’s going on here?”
Mark stopped mid-sentence and turned sharply at the unfamiliar voice. In the doorway leading to the hall stood a man in an elegant dark blue suit. His posture was casually confident, and his gaze calm and attentive. The guards, who had previously tried to delicately restrain Mark, instantly stood at attention obviously this was a person who held a significant position in the company.
“Don’t interfere!” Mark hissed, casting an irritated glance at the stranger. His face was still blazing with anger, and his voice carried open hostility. “This is a personal matter, it doesn’t concern you.”
The man did not rush to answer. He slowly walked forward, stopping a little apart, so as to see both interlocutors. He smirked, which wound Mark up even more.
“A personal matter is when you talk to your wife in private,” he finally said. “But when you stage a scandal in a public place, it ceases to be personal and becomes public.”
Sarah silently observed this scene, feeling the tension in the air become almost tangible. She had not expected Robert Harrington’s appearance, but his intervention, although unexpected, seemed appropriate to her at least it knocked Mark off his usual track of threats and shouts.
Mark took a step towards the man, clearly intending to respond sharply, but he did not flinch. His gaze remained calm, almost impassive, as if he was accustomed to dealing with much more emotional opponents.
“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Mark hissed through his teeth, trying to maintain the remnants of his composure. “Sticking your nose into someone else’s business!”
Robert Harrington took several confident steps forward. He approached Sarah, who was still standing in slight bewilderment, not fully understanding what was happening, and gently put his arm around her waist. Demonstratively, leaving no room for imagination.
“Who am I?” he said in an even, almost everyday tone, but his voice carried such cold determination that even Mark involuntarily stepped back. “I am the one who makes Sarah happy. You allow yourself to yell at my woman, and I don’t forgive that. A trip to the police won’t get you out of this, I’ll make sure you have more problems than you can count. And if you dare to use the daughter as a bargaining chip… I think you’ve understood me, haven’t you?”
Mark froze. His face, which had recently been burning with anger, gradually lost its crimson hue, turning pale. He shifted his gaze from Robert Harrington to Sarah, as if trying to realise that the situation had gotten out of his control. Something like bewilderment flashed in his eyes he clearly had not expected to meet such a confident and cool-headed opponent.
For several minutes he stood silently, clenching and unclenching his fists, as if struggling with the desire to say something sharp. But the words did not come either because of the overwhelming confidence with which Robert Harrington spoke, or because of the realisation that his usual methods would not work here.
Finally, he grimaced, muttered something indistinct, barely audible, and turned sharply. His gait, which had recently been pushy and aggressive, now looked constrained, as if he was trying with all his might to preserve the remnants of his dignity. Before leaving the hall, he turned around and threw over his shoulder:
“You can forget about the child support!”
“I don’t need it anyway,” Sarah snorted as he disappeared behind the door. Her voice sounded light, almost mocking, but there was genuine relief in it. “But at least Emily won’t have to go to her father’s anymore!”
A moment later Sarah suddenly realised that the warm, confident hand of the general director was still resting on her waist. This touch, so simple and at the same time meaningful, made her slightly embarrassed. She involuntarily lowered her gaze, feeling a light blush spreading across her cheeks, and carefully stepped away, trying to do it as naturally as possible.
With a light, slightly confused smile she turned to her unexpected saviour:
“Thank you so much, Mr. Harrington. You can’t even imagine how much you’ve helped!”
Her voice sounded sincere, without a shadow of affectation. At this moment she really felt enormous gratitude not only for intervening in the unpleasant scene, but also for how confidently and calmly he had done it.
The man smiled slightly, his eyes warming for a moment.
“Shall we discuss this over lunch?” he suggested, extending his hand in a gesture of invitation.
Sarah froze for a second, considering the proposal. The usual doubts flashed through her head isn’t it too soon, won’t it look frivolous? But almost immediately she dismissed these thoughts. Robert Harrington had behaved correctly, respectfully, and she really wanted to talk to him without haste and strangers.
Moreover, curiosity was kindling inside: who he really was, why he decided to intervene, what was hidden behind this calm confidence?
“Of course,” she replied, placing her palm in his hand.
The touch turned out to be unexpectedly pleasant firm, reliable, but without intrusiveness. Sarah felt the tension that had gripped her since Mark’s appearance gradually leave, leaving room for light excitement and even anticipation.
Later, at a cozy table in a small restaurant near the office, the conversation flowed more freely. The soft light of the lamps, unobtrusive music and the aroma of fresh pastries created a welcoming atmosphere.
Gradually, in the course of a casual conversation, she learned that her saviour had long harboured tender feelings for her. He told about this simply, without pathos or beautiful phrases rather as something natural that had long matured inside but had found no outlet.
“I hesitated for a long time to approach,” he admitted, stirring his coffee with a spoon. “You always seemed so focused, serious… I understood that you were going through a difficult period after the divorce, and didn’t want to pressure or seem intrusive.”
Sarah listened without interrupting. There was no trace of arrogance or self-satisfaction in his words only sincerity and respect for her personal space.
“And today, when I saw that man yelling at you…” Robert Harrington frowned disapprovingly. “I just couldn’t stay aside!”
The woman could not hold back a soft smile. So that’s how it was! She had noticed the boss’s glances before, but had misinterpreted them! Robert was quite attractive to her, but because of the difference in position she would never have dared to make the first move…
Three months after that tense scene in the office, Sarah and Robert officially became husband and wife. The wedding turned out magnificent; the man fulfilled literally all of Sarah’s dreams, carrying out any wish.
Emily sincerely rejoiced for her mum. On the wedding day she helped Sarah get ready, carefully ensuring that everything was perfect from the hairstyle to the last button on the dress. When the newlyweds exchanged rings, the girl smiled and hugged both tightly.
“I’m so happy for you!” she whispered, and her eyes shone with genuine joy.
At the same time, Emily immediately honestly warned that she was not yet ready to call Robert dad.
“I like you, Robert,” she said on one of the first evenings when they were left alone together. “And I’m glad that mum isn’t alone. But dad… No matter what he is, I already have a dad.”
Robert nodded without a shadow of offense:
“I understand. And that’s right, Emily. The main thing is that we’re together.”
Mark also received an invitation to the wedding more as a taunt than seriously. Sarah hesitated whether to send him the envelope, but in the end decided let him know that her life goes on, and without him. She sent the invitation by post, without an accompanying letter just a card with the date, time and address.
Naturally, Mark did not show up at the wedding. He didn’t even seriously consider coming the very thought of it caused a mixture of irritation and bitter resentment in him. Instead, he found another way to vent the accumulated discontent: he began calling mutual acquaintances.
The first call he made was already the next day after receiving the invitation. His voice sounded deliberately calm, but tension clearly showed in the intonations.
“Can you imagine, she invited me to her wedding!” he blurted out, without waiting for the interlocutor to finish the greeting. “After everything that happened!”
The interlocutor (an old university friend) politely inquired what exactly seemed so outrageous to Mark. But he only waved it off:
“How could she? Humiliate me like that!”
In the following days this scene repeated again and again. Mark dialled one number after another, and each conversation began the same way with this phrase about the invitation, spoken with barely restrained indignation. He seemed to be trying to find confirmation of his rightness in others’ words, waiting for someone to say: “Yes, that’s really disgusting.”
But the acquaintances reacted restrainedly. Some nodded sympathetically, some brushed it off with general phrases like “Well, everyone has their own life”, and some just remained silent, not knowing what to answer. And the more often Mark repeated his monologue, the more clearly he understood that his arguments sounded unconvincing.
Then he began to claim that Sarah was rushing too much with the new marriage:
“Only six months have passed! Can you really find true love in such a short time? It’s just an attempt to escape reality. She’s just trying to forget me, you know?”
Then he suddenly switched to something else:
“She didn’t even give me a chance to fix everything! If we had talked, I could have…”
He didn’t finish what exactly he could have get her back, change something in himself, start everything anew.
And sometimes his claims took a completely strange turn:
“I did so much for her, and she… Didn’t even say thank you. Just took and left. And took the daughter with her!”
These accusations of “ingratitude” sounded especially unconvincing. The acquaintances exchanged glances, shrugged their shoulders, and someone cautiously noted:
“What should she thank you for? You were married, that’s natural!”
Mark fell silent, feeling annoyance growing inside. He understood that his words were not producing the effect he had hoped for. No one shared his indignation, no one called Sarah “dishonest” or “frivolous”. On the contrary, everyone seemed to think that she had the right to live on and this angered him even more.
In the end, tired of the fruitless conversations, Mark stopped calling. He sat in his apartment, looked at the small things left from Sarah a forgotten hair clip on the shelf, an old photo album in the cupboard, a couple of dresses that had become too small and understood that, no matter how you look at it, life goes on. Only he had not yet managed to find his place in this new life.
In the end, tired of the fruitless conversations, Mark fell silent. And the life of Sarah, Robert and Emily went on as usual calm, measured, filled with small joys: joint dinners, weekend walks, funny arguments about which film to watch in the evening. Through all the challenges, they realised that moving forward from toxic pasts allows for the growth of genuine happiness, and that a family’s strength comes from mutual care and the courage to embrace new beginnings without fear.
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