Sharon stared at the agreement forms. They’d fallen through her letterbox just before she set off for work.
Everything had seemed okay through the envelope’s plastic window. MRS S LAMB, then her address. S, of course, for Sharon.
Her name, however, was down as SHARONA on the actual forms. Sharona. With an extra ‘a’.
‘Brilliant.’ These were official forms, with money involved. If she didn’t get it straightened out immediately she could easily imagine trouble.
She could call. Or try the website. But neither option was tempting. Both made her tremble.
Sharon hated calling places. She dithered and hesitated, and got her words all in a muddle. And official websites frightened her. An errant click on the wrong button and disaster could strike. Which was why Pete had always taken care of things like money, bills and forms. But Pete wasn’t around any more.
Her eyes pricked.
No, forget Pete, she told herself, just like he’s forgotten you.
She was 21 when they had married. He was a chemistry graduate, fresh out of university. Shy. He was 28. Full of vigour. It was a classic case of opposites attracting.
Now Sharon was hurtling towards 40 and felt completely adrift. It had been only a few months ago that Pete had slithered away with that tourism officer from the council. How she cried and shouted when, out of the blue, he told her he’d met someone new. Although, looking back, she couldn’t help feeling she should have seen it coming. Somewhere since the heady early years of their romance, the passion had got lost. They had been barely friends in recent years, let alone lovers.
This story is from the November 2019 edition of Womans Weekly Fiction Special.
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This story is from the November 2019 edition of Womans Weekly Fiction Special.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
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