During the divorce, the husband declared, «Return everything I ever gave you and the kids!» A week laterthere were boxes onhis doorstep. When he opened them he was astounded…

He pushed it down, turning away to join Annabelle, who was now admiring the crystal vase on the mantle. Worth every second of that court nonsense, Annabelle said, her voice smug as she adjusted the diamond earrings. Leon nodded, forcing a smile but his eyes lingered on the garage door, where the small box sat forgotten.

He didn’t open it, he didn’t need to. The victory was his, or so he told himself. Back at Valerie’s house, the days following the delivery of Leon’s demanded gifts were far from the triumphant release she’d initially felt.

The act of packing up and letting go had been liberating at first, a quiet reclaiming of her dignity. But as the weeks wore on, the weight of it all settled over her like a suffocating fog. She was just beginning to glimpse light again, small moments of hope stitched into her days.

A laugh with Rose over a silly movie, a rare open conversation with Steve, when the phone rang. The caller ID flashed an unfamiliar number, but Valerie answered, her voice cautious. Hello? Valerie, darling, it’s Annabelle.

The voice was syrupy, dripping with a sweetness that set Valerie’s nerves on edge. She froze, her grip tightening on the phone. Of all people, why was Annabelle calling? What do you want? Valerie asked, her tone flat, trying to steal herself against whatever was coming.

Oh, I just thought I’d check in, see how you’re holding up, Annabelle said, her voice lilting with false concern. It must be so hard going through all this. I mean, losing Leon, giving up all those lovely things.

She paused, letting the words hang, and Valerie realised, too late, that this was a set-up, a calculated jab disguised as pleasantries. Valerie closed her eyes, exhaling slowly, her free hand clenching into a fist. I’m fine, Annabelle.

Is there a point to this call? Annabelle’s laugh was light, almost musical, but it carried a razor’s edge. Well, I suppose I just wanted to share a little moment with you. Right now, as we’re speaking, I’m wearing that gorgeous emerald necklace you sent over.

It looks stunning on me, don’t you think? Leon can’t stop staring. Valerie’s stomach twisted, the image searing into her mind, Annabelle preening in that necklace, the one Leon had given her after Steve’s birth, a symbol of a love she’d thought was unbreakable. The anger she’d been suppressing, the rage she’d buried under layers of resolve and indifference, surged to the surface, hot and unrelenting.

She pressed her lips together, willing herself to stay calm, to not give Annabelle the satisfaction of a reaction. Good for you, she managed, her voice tight. But Annabelle wasn’t done.

She leaned into her cruelty, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. You know what really turns me on, Valerie? Knowing I conquered a married man. Knowing I made him strip his ex-wife bare.

Your jewellery, your kids’ toys, your whole pathetic life. It’s exhilarating. That was the breaking point.

Valerie’s restraints snapped like a taut wire, the anger she’d held back exploding into white-hot fury. You think this is a game, Annabelle? She spat, her voice trembling with rage. You think you’ve won something? You’re parading around in my old life like it’s a trophy, but you’re nothing but a scavenger picking at scraps.

Leon didn’t choose you because you’re special. He chose you because you’re easy. You’re a distraction, a shiny toy he’ll toss aside the second he gets bored.

And trust me, he will. There was a stunned silence on the other end, and Valerie pressed on, her words sharp and unrelenting. You want to gloat about that necklace? Go ahead.

Wear it until it chokes you. But don’t you dare call me again, acting like you’ve conquered anything. You’re not worth my time, and neither is he.

Annabelle’s composure faltered, her voice rising in pitch. How dare you? No, how dare you? Valerie cut her off, her voice steady now, cold as steel. You wanted a reaction? You got one…