You are obsessed with the acquisition of power: it consumes your every waking moment; torments through your dreams. You were my wife, until your desire to become a model became reality. Surrounded by bodyguards and toadies hanging on to your every word you began to believe the hype. But you are no longer perfect. Your tummy is a little more rounded, those once beautiful pert breasts not quite so firm.

When details of your affairs were leaked to the press, you sought sanctuary in our old home, but the harassment continued. You failed to notice my absence when I moved to a remote cottage in the Scottish Highlands. Ignoring the divorce papers was a mistake that cost you dear.

The loch was only metres away from my cottage. I love traditional houses, and this one was no exception. The gatehouse of a mansion set in its own grounds. The beautiful loch and fishing rights were an added bonus, as was the woman by my side.

My fame has grown; that’s when you decided to pay a visit. You were stunned by the tiny child, cradled in my arms. Our daughter is just two days old. The hiss of fury warned me of your intent: Janet moved into the kitchen, taking our daughter out of harm’s way. When the police arrived, you glanced at my wife, framed in the doorway with our child cradled safely in her arms.

“You won’t keep Anthony. He was, and always will be, mine.”

Threatening to kill my wife and our daughter was the last straw. Nearly twelve months have passed since that day. A short jail term gave us just enough time to sell our home. The ocean-going yacht, purchased with the proceeds of my first book, will take us to our new home.

As I waved goodbye to friends, you screamed, “I will find you and the damned whore.”

I glanced at my childhood sweetheart when the police car pulled up alongside her Jaguar.

“No, you won’t,” I confidently declared as Liberty’s sails caught the wind and she headed out into the open sea.

“Don’t look back,” Janet whispered.

Only two people know about our change of name and a new homeland. A small privately owned island near the Bermuda Triangle belonging to an old friend.

Published by llamamemeg

I love creating stories; in many ways since I returned to the UK in 2015, it has taken over my life. Until recently, I ran a blog covering my journey through research through writing/editing/publishing my first novel but I discovered that one my somewhat unusual short stories had been "plagarised", I deleted all the content and closed the blog. Something I now regret but regrets are pointless. I recently changed the Eldern Journals from three full length novels to six shorter novels. The books have been extensively revised and I have compiled a book of short stories, title: How Bizarre. Hopefully, when I manage to sus out how to publish my books on KDP, the books should be published before the end of 2022. Getting back into writing articles on my website may take a little longer as it has been so long since I last visited the site. TTFN, for now.

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