THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY ENDED IN SEPARATION
Two years into her business journey, the 'Reselling Business' had grown beyond a simple side project—it had become a full-fledged operation.
Her small studio flat was now a bustling space filled with bubble wrap, luxury electronics, and designer surplus items.
Victoria had developed a keen eye, almost like a gold prospector's, spotting mispriced vintage watches amidst piles of scrap from twenty paces.
Yet, as her bank account grew, her heart started to wander into uncertain territory__ Julian Vance.
Julian, was a junior analyst at a mid-tier firm.
An attractive young man whose handsomeness isn't just about symmetry; it's about a certain magnetic pull that makes women stop mid-sentence when he enters a room. Perfectly groomed with hair that looked styled. He looked very classic and rugged at the same time.
No doubt he was popularly known as a playboy.
To Victoria, he symbolized the world she once knew—the world of stability, fine dining, and conversations beyond the valuation of undervalued goods. He was someone she thought she could rely on, alongside Clara and Celine.
They had been together for a year. Victoria often tolerated slights from Julian, who was overly concerned about their public image.
To him, a girlfriend was a reflection of his professional success—a woman dressed in the latest designer labels, free of liabilities.
On their first anniversary, Victoria decided to indulge herself with a silk dress from one of her high-end flips, perfectly suited for their dinner date.
She was eager to share her exciting news: she had saved enough money to move the twins into a lovely two-bedroom apartment near a top-tier prep school, right after they received their university offers.
"Julian, I've been thinking about the future," Victoria said softly, reaching across the white linen tablecloth. "The business is starting to stabilize. Next year, I hope to hire an assistant so I won't be working endless hours anymore."
Julian, meanwhile, was distracted, swirling his wine and observing a group of young colleagues at the bar.
"The 'business,' Victoria? You're really just a glorified scavenger," he said casually, as if commenting on the weather.
"My boss saw you last week at the wharf, bargaining over a crate of refurbished laptops. Running around like a mad woman," Julian added with a smirk.
Victoria's smile faltered.
"I made three thousand pounds on that crate, Julian. That's more than you earn in a month."
He snapped, his tone sharp. "It's crass. I'm on the partner track now, moving into circles where pedigree counts. I can't be with someone who has grease under her nails and two anchors pulling her down."
"Anchors?" Victoria's voice grew quietly fierce. "You're talking about my sisters?"
"They're liabilities, Vic," Julian leaned in, his voice lowering to a condescending whisper. "You're just twenty-three, taking care of two pre-teen girls. You pour all your money into their tuition and clothes. You're a dead weight. I need someone who can help me climb the ladder, not someone stuck in her own tragedy. How can you grow when their tuition keeps draining your meager savings?"
The restaurant fell quiet. Victoria looked at the man she thought she loved and suddenly saw a younger version of Uncle Dante.
"Liability," she repeated, the word tasting bitter.
"Exactly," Julian said, glancing at his watch. "I've called a cab for you. It's better to end this now, before my firm's gala next week. This isn't love; it's endurance. It's awkward to introduce you to the senior partners."
She stood up. No tears, no anger, just calm resolve as she picked up her clutch—one she had refurbished herself—and met his gaze.
"You want a polished girl, Julian?" she asked, her voice steady. "Someone with smooth edges and a shiny surface?"
"I want someone who fits in," he snapped, checking his reflection.
"Then you're in the wrong room," she replied. "Because I don't just fit in; I stand out. Sometimes, the reason I look 'unkept' is because I'm building a strong foundation while you're busy painting walls."
She took a step back, looked Julian in the eyes, and said clearly, "You're right about one thing—managing liabilities. Because I know what I'm worth. And right now? You're valued at zero. Save yourself some stress. Goodbye."
Victoria stepped out of the restaurant into the chilly night air, choosing to walk the three miles back to her studio flat instead of waiting for a cab, her heels clicking rhythmically on the pavement.
When she finally opened the door, she found Clara and Celine sitting on the floor, surrounded by textbooks as always, with a warmth of familiarity.
Clara looked up , "Vic? You're home early. Did something happen?"
Victoria settled onto the floor between them, taking a deep breath as the comforting scent of packing tape and old paper filled her senses.
She reached out, taking their hands gently.
"Listen to me," she encouraged, her voice steady. "From this day on, we're no longer looking for anyone to 'save' us or seeking anyone's approval to feel accepted. We've come so far, and soon we'll be so respected that even people like Julian Vance will have to wait months just to hear us say 'no'."
Celine looked at the tears shimmering in Victoria's eyes and then at her determined
jaw.
"He called us a liability again, didn't he?" she asked.
Victoria nodded softly.
"He's wrong, Celine," she whispered confidently. "We're not liable to him anymore. What truly matters is your amazing academic work. Keep pushing forward in this final stretch."
Clara's expression hardened with a fierce kind of intelligence.
"Let him go, Vic. You deserve so much better," she said warmly
"Yeah" Victoria nodded.
"I have a surprise for you Vic" she whispered, smiling while deeming her hand inside her school bag.
"What do you mean Clara?" Victoria asked, trying to understand anything possibly good about the moment. " What's the paper for?".
"This is my scholarship award later"