Mum, you simply must find a new husband as soon as possible! Really, really urgently!
Claire nearly drops her cup of coffee, which spills a bit onto the tablecloth. She places it on the table, clears her throat, and gazes steadily at her daughter.
“Explain what’s happening,” she requests, trying to keep her voice steady. “What’s behind this demand?”
Sophie shifts her weight from one foot to the other, drops her eyes, and begins studying the pattern on the rug. She feels awkward, yet she remains convinced that her action is the right one.
“You see… Today I told Dad that you’ve got a man in your life,” she sighs deeply. “He just wouldn’t stop asking questions! He keeps wanting to know if you’ve found someone! I’ve been saying ‘no’ all this time, and then he launches into a long speech about what a huge mistake you made leaving him. That you don’t get anything about life, letting yourself lose such an amazing man!”
She lifts her eyes to her mother. Her expression shows annoyance, bewilderment, and even anger towards her father.
“And… he keeps saying that you’ll soon realise you were wrong and come back. Like, you’ll never find anyone better than him. So I got angry. I said you’d met someone.”
Claire runs her hand through her hair. Memories of her ex-husband’s familiar tone come flooding back that pretended certainty, that habit of turning every chat into a lecture on how right he is.
“I can imagine the colourful language he’s using,” she remarks with a touch of irony. “He still can’t accept that I left him, the perfect guy. Sometimes I think David only insists on your weekend visits for his own speeches. He doesn’t care about talking to you, just getting the latest gossip. It boosts his ego that way.”
Sophie lets out a heavy sigh and flops onto the sofa, tucking her legs under her as usual. Leaning on a cushion, she absentmindedly strokes the soft fabric of the cover, trying to collect her thoughts.
“Yes, I think the same,” she says, gazing off to the side. “I have to listen for an hour and a half about how fantastic he is. The rest of the time I’m free he doesn’t even ask how I am. He doesn’t inquire about my studies or if I need anything…”
Sophie talks about this in such an everyday way, as if describing her normal routine: waking up, breakfast, school, homework. For her, this has become routine for ages so much that it doesn’t even stir any feelings.
She leans back against the sofa and stares at the ceiling, replaying the recent talk with her father in her mind. As always, it begins with his latest success this time he goes into detail about how skillfully he handled negotiations with partners. Then he moves to his plans for the future, the challenges at work, how everyone underestimates his efforts. An hour and a half of monologue Sophie even noted the time mentally to remember to tell her mum.
When she tried to mention her school maths competition, her father just nodded vaguely and switched back to his own matters. “Good job, of course, but you know, at my age I already…” and off he goes again with stories of his achievements.
Sophie shrugs lightly, pushing the memories away. She’s long used to this way of things. As far back as she can recall, Dad has always been wrapped up in himself. The rest of the family just exists on the edges of his focus important, but not enough to pull him away from the main subject himself.
He always steers conversations back to himself and his issues. If Mum complains about being tired, he immediately starts on how tough things are for him at work. If Sophie shares worries about friends, Dad finds a way to bring it round to his own school days naturally, far more exciting and full. He seems blind to others’ troubles or thinks they’re not worth bothering about.
Sophie still can’t figure out how Mum put up with fifteen years beside such a man. He was completely obsessed with his own wonderful self! Maybe Mum stuck it out just for her, not wanting Sophie to grow up without a father. As a kid, Sophie truly believed Dad would change one day, start noticing them, taking an interest in their lives… But years passed with no change. Only after the divorce did the girl realise with surprise that life without him was much more peaceful! No one grabs all the attention for themselves, treating everyone else’s concerns as minor.
“And why should I have to rush to find a partner in life?” Claire’s voice comes out a bit sharper than she meant. “So you said it what’s the problem?”
“You see, when Dad heard that, he changed completely!” Sophie winces without meaning to, clutching one of the cushions from the sofa to her chest. “He went pale, then red, and started shouting so loud that the neighbour even came over! To be honest, I got a bit frightened.”
She pauses for a moment, remembering the scene. Dad’s voice, unusually high and cracking, his fists clenched, eyes darting around. It looked like he might explode from all the emotions.
“He demanded I give the man’s name and describe him in every detail,” Sophie goes on, twisting the edge of the cushion in her fingers. “I said no, that you’d asked me not to tell anyone, especially him… I wouldn’t be surprised if he rings you soon and has a go at you.”
Claire turns slowly, rests against the windowsill and studies her daughter. What an interesting day she’s in for… She can picture the level of David’s tantrum easily… Thanks for that, daughter, really…
Claire sinks onto the sofa beside Sophie and sighs heavily, wrapping her arms around her. Well, nothing to be done now. The words are out, and there’s no taking them back…
“Why did you make that up?” she asks quietly, rocking Sophie gently in her embrace. “We were getting along fine! Now we’ll have to hear his tantrums and complaints again. I almost want to switch off the phone.”
Sophie eases out of the hug, sits up straight and looks earnestly at her mother. Her eyes hold real conviction.
“Because you’re amazing!” she declares confidently. “You’re beautiful, clever, you’ve got loads of friends, and men are interested in you! Do you think I don’t notice? And Dad’s always saying awful things about you! I’ve had enough!”
Claire strokes her daughter’s hair tenderly, running her fingers through the soft locks. Her look is full of affection and a bit of bewilderment.
“I get it, darling, I get it,” she says gently. “To be honest, I thought you wouldn’t want me starting serious relationships. It’s only been six months since the divorce from your father.”
These words don’t come easily. Deep down, she worries that her daughter might see a new romance as betrayal or trying to replace her dad. Claire searches Sophie’s face, looking for any hint of displeasure.
“Rubbish!” Sophie huffs, her voice carrying such genuine resolve that Claire has to smile. “As long as you’re happy!”
Sophie folds her arms across her chest, smiling at her mother. Right now she seems remarkably grown-up sensible beyond her years and prepared to stand by her views.
Claire keeps watching her daughter, and the worry in her heart slowly fades. Sophie speaks with such assurance that doubts start to lift. Perhaps she’s been dwelling too much on the past and fearing what’s ahead?
“You’re so clever,” Claire says softly, drawing her daughter close again. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
Sophie nestles against her, settling comfortably at her side. In this moment, both sense the warmth and calm between them growing stronger as if their little family, no matter what, is only getting tighter every day…
Claire sits at her desk, trying to concentrate on the report. The words on the page blur before her eyes, and a dull ache throbs in her temples, which only hinted at itself in the morning but has swelled to unbearable levels by lunchtime. She wearily rubs her temples, hoping to ease it somewhat. Her movements are slow, almost automatic she’s done this countless times already today.
After thinking for a minute or two, Claire decides to ask a colleague to pop to the chemist’s it’s just two minutes’ walk from the office. Back with the tablets, she swallows them with water from the jug and tries once more to focus on the papers. No use. Her head feels heavy as lead, and every noise keyboard clicks, air con hum, distant talks in the corridor hits her like a sharp wave.
Just then, the security guard peers into the office. His face is polite, but his eyes show a hint of caution.
“Claire, you’ve got a visitor,” he says, opening the door a bit. “Your ex-husband is insisting on seeing you. Will you go down, or shall we get him to leave?”
Claire stops still. A surge of irritation mixed with tiredness rises in her. She draws a deep breath, aiming to stay outwardly calm.
“I’ll go down now, sorry for the trouble,” she answers, rising from her chair.
She curses inwardly. What bad timing! The day is already tough enough, her head is pounding, and now David turns up unannounced. Why didn’t he phone? Why come straight to the office with all these people around? Does he mean to cause a scene right here?
She makes her way slowly to the exit, avoiding haste quick moves only worsen the headache. The corridor buzzes with activity: staff rushing about, someone laughing by the coffee machine, others chatting over a project at the noticeboard. Claire passes them, feeling the strain pulling at her shoulders.
Claire steps into the lobby and spots David at once. He paces to and fro, approaching the reception then backing off a step or two. His actions are abrupt and restless he’s waving his arms emotionally, arguing with the guards, raising his voice now and then. The security team’s faces show controlled annoyance: they’re keeping polite but look ready for firmer steps if things spiral.
“What do you want?” Claire asks straight away, moving nearer. Her tone is level, though irritation builds inside. “What’s this performance you’re putting on? Fancy getting the police involved? I can arrange it.”
David whirls round at her voice. His face flushes red, eyes blazing with some intense light anger or agitation. He rushes over to his ex-wife, jabbing a finger at her accusingly, as if she’s committed a crime.
“You!” he yells. “You! Sophie told me everything! Only six months after the divorce, and you’ve already got a new man?”
Disbelief, hurt, and clear jealousy mix in his voice. He seems to have hoped till the end that his daughter was wrong or just teasing him. But seeing Claire’s calm expression now, he knows it’s no joke.
Claire arches her brows in surprise, tilting her head slightly. Her stance stays relaxed, but a chilly glint appears in her eyes.
“Am I supposed to stay faithful to you forever?” she asks evenly. “Even after the divorce? You’re asking too much, dear. Especially since you didn’t think fidelity was necessary even when we were married.”
David pauses, unsure how to respond. His outstretched hand slowly drops. A look of confusion crosses his face he didn’t expect such a calm, assured reply.
Around them, people keep moving: employees, visitors, delivery people… Some glance curiously their way, others try to ignore it. But for David and Claire, everything narrows briefly to the space between them filled with old hurts, unspoken complaints, and this new reality he’s struggling to accept.
“You… you’re just…” he manages at last, but Claire cuts him off.
“Let’s not make a scene, David,” her voice softens a little but stays firm. “If you need to talk, we can do it calmly. Just not here and not like this.”
“A scene? I’ll show you a scene!”
David nearly shouts, his voice echoing in the large office lobby. His face turns blotchy red, veins bulge on his neck, and his fists clench and unclench involuntarily, showing his extreme stress. He steps forward then back, as if undecided on how to deliver his threat best.
“I won’t let my daughter live with some stranger!” he shouts, oblivious to the employees passing by. “I’ll take Sophie away from you! You’ll never see her again! You…”
His words are sharp and almost frantic, but Claire merely lifts an eyebrow, keeping a look of calm detachment. Take Sophie? She’d like to see him try! Any court would back her!
“Finished? What a performer,” she says levelly, with a hint of mockery. And adds: “Straight from the circus.”
“What’s going on here?”
David halts mid-word and spins towards the new voice. In the doorway to the lobby stands a man in a smart dark blue suit. His posture is relaxed yet confident, his gaze steady and attentive. The guards, who were gently trying to hold David back, snap to attention clearly, this man holds a high position in the company.
“Don’t get involved!” David snaps, shooting the stranger an annoyed look. His face still glows with rage, voice full of open dislike. “This is private, nothing to do with you.”
The man takes his time replying. He walks forward slowly, stopping a short distance away to see both clearly. He smirks, which winds David up further.
“Private is when you’re talking to your wife alone,” he says at last. “When you kick up a fuss in a public place, it becomes public.”
Claire watches the scene in silence, sensing the air grow thick with tension. She hadn’t expected Robert’s arrival, but his stepping in, unexpected as it is, feels fitting it at least derails David’s usual rant of threats and yelling.
David moves towards the man, about to retort sharply, but Robert doesn’t budge. His look stays calm, almost detached, like he’s dealt with far more heated people before.
“Who are you to order me about?” David grinds out, clinging to his self-control. “Poking your nose in where it’s not wanted!”
Robert strides forward confidently. He goes to Claire, who stands slightly stunned, not quite grasping what’s unfolding, and slips an arm around her waist. It’s deliberate, leaving nothing to the imagination.
“Who am I?” he says evenly, almost casually, but with a cold resolve in his tone that makes even David step back. “I’m the one who makes Claire happy. You think you can shout at my girlfriend, and I won’t stand for it. A police visit won’t be enough this time; I’ll make sure you’re in way over your head. And if you try to use Sophie as a pawn… I think you’ve got the message, haven’t you?”
David stands frozen. His face, moments ago flushed with anger, drains of colour. He looks from Robert to Claire, as if realising the situation has slipped from his grasp. Confusion flickers in his eyes he hadn’t anticipated such a self-assured, unflappable opponent.
He remains silent for a few minutes, clenching and unclenching his fists, battling the urge to say something cutting. But no words come maybe from the sheer confidence in Robert’s voice, or the knowledge that his usual tactics won’t work here.
At last, he twists his face, mutters something unclear under his breath, and turns sharply. His walk, once pushy and aggressive, now seems stiff, as he struggles to keep what dignity he has left. Before exiting the lobby, he glances back and calls over his shoulder:
“You can forget about the child support!”
“I don’t need it,” Claire snorts once he’s gone through the door. Her voice is light, almost teasing, but full of real relief. “And Sophie won’t have to go to her father’s anymore!”
A second later, Claire notices that Robert’s warm, sure hand is still around her waist. The touch, simple yet meaningful, makes her feel a bit flustered. She drops her gaze, a faint blush rising on her cheeks, and eases away carefully, trying to make it seem natural.
With a slight, puzzled smile, she turns to her unexpected rescuer:
“Thank you so much, Robert. You can’t imagine how much help that was!”
Her tone is genuine, no fake note. Right now she feels truly grateful not just for his intervention in the awkward scene, but for the calm assurance he showed in doing it.
Robert smiles faintly, his eyes warming briefly.
“Shall we talk about it over lunch?” he offers, holding out his hand in invitation.
Claire pauses for a moment, weighing the idea. The usual doubts cross her mind is it too soon, will it look silly? But she pushes them aside quickly. Robert is acting properly and respectfully, and she really wants to chat with him away from the rush and others.
Plus, a spark of curiosity grows: who he really is, why he stepped in, what’s behind this steady confidence?
“Of course,” she answers, putting her hand in his.
The contact feels surprisingly nice solid, dependable, without being pushy. Claire senses the tension from David’s arrival easing away, replaced by a gentle thrill and even some excitement.
Later, at a cosy table in a small restaurant close to the office, the talk becomes easier. The soft lamp light, low music, and smell of fresh baking make for a pleasant setting.
Bit by bit, during the relaxed chat, she finds out that her rescuer has felt tender towards her for a while. He speaks of it plainly, without grand words more like something natural that’s been growing inside but had no chance to show.
“I took a long time to approach you,” he admits, stirring his coffee with a spoon. “You always seemed so focused and serious… I knew you were dealing with a tough time after the divorce, and I didn’t want to push or come across as overbearing.”
Claire listens without interrupting. No arrogance or smugness in his words just honesty and respect for her space.
“And today, seeing that man shouting at you…” Robert frowns in displeasure. “I couldn’t just stand by!”
Claire can’t help a soft smile. So that’s it! She’d noticed the boss’s looks before but read them wrong! Robert is quite appealing to her, but with the position difference, she’d never have risked making the first move…
Three months on from that tense scene at the office, Claire and Robert are now officially husband and wife. The wedding is grand, with Robert making all of Claire’s dreams come true, granting every wish.
Sophie is truly delighted for her mum. On the wedding day, she helps Claire prepare, checking that everything is just right from the hairstyle to the final button on the dress. As the newlyweds swap rings, the girl smiles and hugs them both tightly.
“I’m so happy for you!” she whispers, joy shining in her eyes.
Yet Sophie is quick to say honestly that she’s not ready to call Robert dad yet.
“I like you, Robert,” she tells him one of the first evenings they’re all together. “And I’m glad Mum isn’t alone. But Dad… Whatever he’s like, I’ve already got one.”
Robert nods, showing no hurt:
“I understand. That’s fair, Sophie. The important thing is we’re all together.”
David gets an invitation to the wedding too more to mock than seriously. Claire wonders if she should send it, but decides yes let him see her life moves on without him. She posts it without any note just the card with date, time and place.
Of course, David doesn’t turn up. He doesn’t even think seriously about going the idea alone stirs up irritation and bitter resentment. Instead, he vents his built-up frustration by phoning shared friends.
He makes the first call the day after getting the invite. His voice is put on calm, but strain shows through.
“Can you believe she’s invited me to her wedding!” he bursts out before the other can finish greeting. “After all that’s happened!”
The friend (an old uni mate) politely asks what seems so bad to David. But he just brushes it off:
“How could she? To humiliate me like that!”
This repeats over the next days. David rings number after number, each chat starting the same with the invitation phrase, said with held-back outrage. He seems to seek validation in others’ replies, hoping someone will agree it’s wrong.
But people react calmly. Some nod sympathetically, some offer vague lines like “Well, everyone lives their own life,” others stay quiet, unsure what to say. The more David repeats his story, the clearer it becomes that his points don’t convince.
Then he claims Claire is hurrying the new marriage:
“Only six months! You can’t find real love that fast. It’s just running from reality. She’s trying to forget me, right?”
Suddenly he switches:
“She didn’t even give me a chance to sort things! If we’d talked, I could have…”
He stops short of saying what win her back, change himself, begin anew.
Sometimes his complaints turn odd:
“I did so much for her, and she… Didn’t even say thanks. Just up and left. Took my daughter too!”
These “ungrateful” charges sound weak. Friends glance at each other, shrug, and one might say carefully:
“Why should she thank you? You were married, it’s normal!”
David goes quiet, annoyance building. He sees his words aren’t having the impact he wanted. No one backs his anger, no one labels Claire as “wrong” or “thoughtless”. Instead, they all seem to think she can move on which makes him angrier still.
Finally, worn out by pointless talks, David stops calling. He sits in his flat, looking at Claire’s leftover bits a forgotten hair clip on the shelf, an old photo album in the cupboard, some dresses that are now too small and realises that, however you look at it, life carries on. He just hasn’t found his spot in this new life yet.
In the end, tired of fruitless conversations, David stays silent. And life for Claire, Robert, and Sophie continues in its steady way calm and regular, full of small pleasures: shared meals, weekend strolls, light-hearted debates over which film to watch that evening.Mum, you simply must find a new husband as soon as possible! Really, really urgently!
Claire nearly drops her cup of coffee, which spills a bit onto the tablecloth. She places it on the table, clears her throat, and gazes steadily at her daughter.
“Explain what’s happening,” she requests, trying to keep her voice steady. “What’s behind this demand?”
Sophie shifts her weight from one foot to the other, drops her eyes, and begins studying the pattern on the rug. She feels awkward, yet she remains convinced that her action is the right one.
“You see… Today I told Dad that you’ve got a man in your life,” she sighs deeply. “He just wouldn’t stop asking questions! He keeps wanting to know if you’ve found someone! I’ve been saying ‘no’ all this time, and then he launches into a long speech about what a huge mistake you made leaving him. That you don’t get anything about life, letting yourself lose such an amazing man!”
She lifts her eyes to her mother. Her expression shows annoyance, bewilderment, and even anger towards her father.
“And… he keeps saying that you’ll soon realise you were wrong and come back. Like, you’ll never find anyone better than him. So I got angry. I said you’d met someone.”
Claire runs her hand through her hair. Memories of her ex-husband’s familiar tone come flooding back that pretended certainty, that habit of turning every chat into a lecture on how right he is.
“I can imagine the colourful language he’s using,” she remarks with a touch of irony. “He still can’t accept that I left him, the perfect guy. Sometimes I think David only insists on your weekend visits for his own speeches. He doesn’t care about talking to you, just getting the latest gossip. It boosts his ego that way.”
Sophie lets out a heavy sigh and flops onto the sofa, tucking her legs under her as usual. Leaning on a cushion, she absentmindedly strokes the soft fabric of the cover, trying to collect her thoughts.
“Yes, I think the same,” she says, gazing off to the side. “I have to listen for an hour and a half about how fantastic he is. The rest of the time I’m free he doesn’t even ask how I am. He doesn’t inquire about my studies or if I need anything…”
Sophie talks about this in such an everyday way, as if describing her normal routine: waking up, breakfast, school, homework. For her, this has become routine for ages so much that it doesn’t even stir any feelings.
She leans back against the sofa and stares at the ceiling, replaying the recent talk with her father in her mind. As always, it begins with his latest success this time he goes into detail about how skillfully he handled negotiations with partners. Then he moves to his plans for the future, the challenges at work, how everyone underestimates his efforts. An hour and a half of monologue Sophie even noted the time mentally to remember to tell her mum.
When she tried to mention her school maths competition, her father just nodded vaguely and switched back to his own matters. “Good job, of course, but you know, at my age I already…” and off he goes again with stories of his achievements.
Sophie shrugs lightly, pushing the memories away. She’s long used to this way of things. As far back as she can recall, Dad has always been wrapped up in himself. The rest of the family just exists on the edges of his focus important, but not enough to pull him away from the main subject himself.
He always steers conversations back to himself and his issues. If Mum complains about being tired, he immediately starts on how tough things are for him at work. If Sophie shares worries about friends, Dad finds a way to bring it round to his own school days naturally, far more exciting and full. He seems blind to others’ troubles or thinks they’re not worth bothering about.
Sophie still can’t figure out how Mum put up with fifteen years beside such a man. He was completely obsessed with his own wonderful self! Maybe Mum stuck it out just for her, not wanting Sophie to grow up without a father. As a kid, Sophie truly believed Dad would change one day, start noticing them, taking an interest in their lives… But years passed with no change. Only after the divorce did the girl realise with surprise that life without him was much more peaceful! No one grabs all the attention for themselves, treating everyone else’s concerns as minor.
“And why should I have to rush to find a partner in life?” Claire’s voice comes out a bit sharper than she meant. “So you said it what’s the problem?”
“You see, when Dad heard that, he changed completely!” Sophie winces without meaning to, clutching one of the cushions from the sofa to her chest. “He went pale, then red, and started shouting so loud that the neighbour even came over! To be honest, I got a bit frightened.”
She pauses for a moment, remembering the scene. Dad’s voice, unusually high and cracking, his fists clenched, eyes darting around. It looked like he might explode from all the emotions.
“He demanded I give the man’s name and describe him in every detail,” Sophie goes on, twisting the edge of the cushion in her fingers. “I said no, that you’d asked me not to tell anyone, especially him… I wouldn’t be surprised if he rings you soon and has a go at you.”
Claire turns slowly, rests against the windowsill and studies her daughter. What an interesting day she’s in for… She can picture the level of David’s tantrum easily… Thanks for that, daughter, really…
Claire sinks onto the sofa beside Sophie and sighs heavily, wrapping her arms around her. Well, nothing to be done now. The words are out, and there’s no taking them back…
“Why did you make that up?” she asks quietly, rocking Sophie gently in her embrace. “We were getting along fine! Now we’ll have to hear his tantrums and complaints again. I almost want to switch off the phone.”
Sophie eases out of the hug, sits up straight and looks earnestly at her mother. Her eyes hold real conviction.
“Because you’re amazing!” she declares confidently. “You’re beautiful, clever, you’ve got loads of friends, and men are interested in you! Do you think I don’t notice? And Dad’s always saying awful things about you! I’ve had enough!”
Claire strokes her daughter’s hair tenderly, running her fingers through the soft locks. Her look is full of affection and a bit of bewilderment.
“I get it, darling, I get it,” she says gently. “To be honest, I thought you wouldn’t want me starting serious relationships. It’s only been six months since the divorce from your father.”
These words don’t come easily. Deep down, she worries that her daughter might see a new romance as betrayal or trying to replace her dad. Claire searches Sophie’s face, looking for any hint of displeasure.
“Rubbish!” Sophie huffs, her voice carrying such genuine resolve that Claire has to smile. “As long as you’re happy!”
Sophie folds her arms across her chest, smiling at her mother. Right now she seems remarkably grown-up sensible beyond her years and prepared to stand by her views.
Claire keeps watching her daughter, and the worry in her heart slowly fades. Sophie speaks with such assurance that doubts start to lift. Perhaps she’s been dwelling too much on the past and fearing what’s ahead?
“You’re so clever,” Claire says softly, drawing her daughter close again. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
Sophie nestles against her, settling comfortably at her side. In this moment, both sense the warmth and calm between them growing stronger as if their little family, no matter what, is only getting tighter every day…
Claire sits at her desk, trying to concentrate on the report. The words on the page blur before her eyes, and a dull ache throbs in her temples, which only hinted at itself in the morning but has swelled to unbearable levels by lunchtime. She wearily rubs her temples, hoping to ease it somewhat. Her movements are slow, almost automatic she’s done this countless times already today.
After thinking for a minute or two, Claire decides to ask a colleague to pop to the chemist’s it’s just two minutes’ walk from the office. Back with the tablets, she swallows them with water from the jug and tries once more to focus on the papers. No use. Her head feels heavy as lead, and every noise keyboard clicks, air con hum, distant talks in the corridor hits her like a sharp wave.
Just then, the security guard peers into the office. His face is polite, but his eyes show a hint of caution.
“Claire, you’ve got a visitor,” he says, opening the door a bit. “Your ex-husband is insisting on seeing you. Will you go down, or shall we get him to leave?”
Claire stops still. A surge of irritation mixed with tiredness rises in her. She draws a deep breath, aiming to stay outwardly calm.
“I’ll go down now, sorry for the trouble,” she answers, rising from her chair.
She curses inwardly. What bad timing! The day is already tough enough, her head is pounding, and now David turns up unannounced. Why didn’t he phone? Why come straight to the office with all these people around? Does he mean to cause a scene right here?
She makes her way slowly to the exit, avoiding haste quick moves only worsen the headache. The corridor buzzes with activity: staff rushing about, someone laughing by the coffee machine, others chatting over a project at the noticeboard. Claire passes them, feeling the strain pulling at her shoulders.
Claire steps into the lobby and spots David at once. He paces to and fro, approaching the reception then backing off a step or two. His actions are abrupt and restless he’s waving his arms emotionally, arguing with the guards, raising his voice now and then. The security team’s faces show controlled annoyance: they’re keeping polite but look ready for firmer steps if things spiral.
“What do you want?” Claire asks straight away, moving nearer. Her tone is level, though irritation builds inside. “What’s this performance you’re putting on? Fancy getting the police involved? I can arrange it.”
David whirls round at her voice. His face flushes red, eyes blazing with some intense light anger or agitation. He rushes over to his ex-wife, jabbing a finger at her accusingly, as if she’s committed a crime.
“You!” he yells. “You! Sophie told me everything! Only six months after the divorce, and you’ve already got a new man?”
Disbelief, hurt, and clear jealousy mix in his voice. He seems to have hoped till the end that his daughter was wrong or just teasing him. But seeing Claire’s calm expression now, he knows it’s no joke.
Claire arches her brows in surprise, tilting her head slightly. Her stance stays relaxed, but a chilly glint appears in her eyes.
“Am I supposed to stay faithful to you forever?” she asks evenly. “Even after the divorce? You’re asking too much, dear. Especially since you didn’t think fidelity was necessary even when we were married.”
David pauses, unsure how to respond. His outstretched hand slowly drops. A look of confusion crosses his face he didn’t expect such a calm, assured reply.
Around them, people keep moving: employees, visitors, delivery people… Some glance curiously their way, others try to ignore it. But for David and Claire, everything narrows briefly to the space between them filled with old hurts, unspoken complaints, and this new reality he’s struggling to accept.
“You… you’re just…” he manages at last, but Claire cuts him off.
“Let’s not make a scene, David,” her voice softens a little but stays firm. “If you need to talk, we can do it calmly. Just not here and not like this.”
“A scene? I’ll show you a scene!”
David nearly shouts, his voice echoing in the large office lobby. His face turns blotchy red, veins bulge on his neck, and his fists clench and unclench involuntarily, showing his extreme stress. He steps forward then back, as if undecided on how to deliver his threat best.
“I won’t let my daughter live with some stranger!” he shouts, oblivious to the employees passing by. “I’ll take Sophie away from you! You’ll never see her again! You…”
His words are sharp and almost frantic, but Claire merely lifts an eyebrow, keeping a look of calm detachment. Take Sophie? She’d like to see him try! Any court would back her!
“Finished? What a performer,” she says levelly, with a hint of mockery. And adds: “Straight from the circus.”
“What’s going on here?”
David halts mid-word and spins towards the new voice. In the doorway to the lobby stands a man in a smart dark blue suit. His posture is relaxed yet confident, his gaze steady and attentive. The guards, who were gently trying to hold David back, snap to attention clearly, this man holds a high position in the company.
“Don’t get involved!” David snaps, shooting the stranger an annoyed look. His face still glows with rage, voice full of open dislike. “This is private, nothing to do with you.”
The man takes his time replying. He walks forward slowly, stopping a short distance away to see both clearly. He smirks, which winds David up further.
“Private is when you’re talking to your wife alone,” he says at last. “When you kick up a fuss in a public place, it becomes public.”
Claire watches the scene in silence, sensing the air grow thick with tension. She hadn’t expected Robert’s arrival, but his stepping in, unexpected as it is, feels fitting it at least derails David’s usual rant of threats and yelling.
David moves towards the man, about to retort sharply, but Robert doesn’t budge. His look stays calm, almost detached, like he’s dealt with far more heated people before.
“Who are you to order me about?” David grinds out, clinging to his self-control. “Poking your nose in where it’s not wanted!”
Robert strides forward confidently. He goes to Claire, who stands slightly stunned, not quite grasping what’s unfolding, and slips an arm around her waist. It’s deliberate, leaving nothing to the imagination.
“Who am I?” he says evenly, almost casually, but with a cold resolve in his tone that makes even David step back. “I’m the one who makes Claire happy. You think you can shout at my girlfriend, and I won’t stand for it. A police visit won’t be enough this time; I’ll make sure you’re in way over your head. And if you try to use Sophie as a pawn… I think you’ve got the message, haven’t you?”
David stands frozen. His face, moments ago flushed with anger, drains of colour. He looks from Robert to Claire, as if realising the situation has slipped from his grasp. Confusion flickers in his eyes he hadn’t anticipated such a self-assured, unflappable opponent.
He remains silent for a few minutes, clenching and unclenching his fists, battling the urge to say something cutting. But no words come maybe from the sheer confidence in Robert’s voice, or the knowledge that his usual tactics won’t work here.
At last, he twists his face, mutters something unclear under his breath, and turns sharply. His walk, once pushy and aggressive, now seems stiff, as he struggles to keep what dignity he has left. Before exiting the lobby, he glances back and calls over his shoulder:
“You can forget about the child support!”
“I don’t need it,” Claire snorts once he’s gone through the door. Her voice is light, almost teasing, but full of real relief. “And Sophie won’t have to go to her father’s anymore!”
A second later, Claire notices that Robert’s warm, sure hand is still around her waist. The touch, simple yet meaningful, makes her feel a bit flustered. She drops her gaze, a faint blush rising on her cheeks, and eases away carefully, trying to make it seem natural.
With a slight, puzzled smile, she turns to her unexpected rescuer:
“Thank you so much, Robert. You can’t imagine how much help that was!”
Her tone is genuine, no fake note. Right now she feels truly grateful not just for his intervention in the awkward scene, but for the calm assurance he showed in doing it.
Robert smiles faintly, his eyes warming briefly.
“Shall we talk about it over lunch?” he offers, holding out his hand in invitation.
Claire pauses for a moment, weighing the idea. The usual doubts cross her mind is it too soon, will it look silly? But she pushes them aside quickly. Robert is acting properly and respectfully, and she really wants to chat with him away from the rush and others.
Plus, a spark of curiosity grows: who he really is, why he stepped in, what’s behind this steady confidence?
“Of course,” she answers, putting her hand in his.
The contact feels surprisingly nice solid, dependable, without being pushy. Claire senses the tension from David’s arrival easing away, replaced by a gentle thrill and even some excitement.
Later, at a cosy table in a small restaurant close to the office, the talk becomes easier. The soft lamp light, low music, and smell of fresh baking make for a pleasant setting.
Bit by bit, during the relaxed chat, she finds out that her rescuer has felt tender towards her for a while. He speaks of it plainly, without grand words more like something natural that’s been growing inside but had no chance to show.
“I took a long time to approach you,” he admits, stirring his coffee with a spoon. “You always seemed so focused and serious… I knew you were dealing with a tough time after the divorce, and I didn’t want to push or come across as overbearing.”
Claire listens without interrupting. No arrogance or smugness in his words just honesty and respect for her space.
“And today, seeing that man shouting at you…” Robert frowns in displeasure. “I couldn’t just stand by!”
Claire can’t help a soft smile. So that’s it! She’d noticed the boss’s looks before but read them wrong! Robert is quite appealing to her, but with the position difference, she’d never have risked making the first move…
Three months on from that tense scene at the office, Claire and Robert are now officially husband and wife. The wedding is grand, with Robert making all of Claire’s dreams come true, granting every wish.
Sophie is truly delighted for her mum. On the wedding day, she helps Claire prepare, checking that everything is just right from the hairstyle to the final button on the dress. As the newlyweds swap rings, the girl smiles and hugs them both tightly.
“I’m so happy for you!” she whispers, joy shining in her eyes.
Yet Sophie is quick to say honestly that she’s not ready to call Robert dad yet.
“I like you, Robert,” she tells him one of the first evenings they’re all together. “And I’m glad Mum isn’t alone. But Dad… Whatever he’s like, I’ve already got one.”
Robert nods, showing no hurt:
“I understand. That’s fair, Sophie. The important thing is we’re all together.”
David gets an invitation to the wedding too more to mock than seriously. Claire wonders if she should send it, but decides yes let him see her life moves on without him. She posts it without any note just the card with date, time and place.
Of course, David doesn’t turn up. He doesn’t even think seriously about going the idea alone stirs up irritation and bitter resentment. Instead, he vents his built-up frustration by phoning shared friends.
He makes the first call the day after getting the invite. His voice is put on calm, but strain shows through.
“Can you believe she’s invited me to her wedding!” he bursts out before the other can finish greeting. “After all that’s happened!”
The friend (an old uni mate) politely asks what seems so bad to David. But he just brushes it off:
“How could she? To humiliate me like that!”
This repeats over the next days. David rings number after number, each chat starting the same with the invitation phrase, said with held-back outrage. He seems to seek validation in others’ replies, hoping someone will agree it’s wrong.
But people react calmly. Some nod sympathetically, some offer vague lines like “Well, everyone lives their own life,” others stay quiet, unsure what to say. The more David repeats his story, the clearer it becomes that his points don’t convince.
Then he claims Claire is hurrying the new marriage:
“Only six months! You can’t find real love that fast. It’s just running from reality. She’s trying to forget me, right?”
Suddenly he switches:
“She didn’t even give me a chance to sort things! If we’d talked, I could have…”
He stops short of saying what win her back, change himself, begin anew.
Sometimes his complaints turn odd:
“I did so much for her, and she… Didn’t even say thanks. Just up and left. Took my daughter too!”
These “ungrateful” charges sound weak. Friends glance at each other, shrug, and one might say carefully:
“Why should she thank you? You were married, it’s normal!”
David goes quiet, annoyance building. He sees his words aren’t having the impact he wanted. No one backs his anger, no one labels Claire as “wrong” or “thoughtless”. Instead, they all seem to think she can move on which makes him angrier still.
Finally, worn out by pointless talks, David stops calling. He sits in his flat, looking at Claire’s leftover bits a forgotten hair clip on the shelf, an old photo album in the cupboard, some dresses that are now too small and realises that, however you look at it, life carries on. He just hasn’t found his spot in this new life yet.
In the end, tired of fruitless conversations, David stays silent. And life for Claire, Robert, and Sophie continues in its steady way calm and regular, full of small pleasures: shared meals, weekend strolls, light-hearted debates over which film to watch that evening.