RISE OF OLIVER WILSON

The faint scent of cleaning products filled the air as Oliver Wilson wiped his brow. He had spent hours cleaning and scrubbing every corner of the small house he shared with his wife Emma Tayor.

The floors glistened, the windows sparkled, and the dining table was set with his wife's favorite dishes. Everything was ready for their third wedding anniversary dinner tonight.

The house wasn’t much compared to the magnificent Wilson mansion he had grown up in, but Oliver had put his efforts into making it a home for Emma. Tonight, he wanted to show her how much she still meant to him and how much he loved her and respected their union.

He glanced at the bouquet of red roses resting on the counter. Emma loved roses, and he had saved for weeks to afford them. A small smile tugged at his lips as he imagined her face lighting up when she would come back and see them.

Just as Oliver turned to light the candles on the table, a sharp knock at the door broke his focus. His heart leapt with joy. Was Emma home early?

Oliver hurried to the door, but when he opened it, he froze in shock and shame.

Standing on the porch was Emma’s mother, Victoria Taylor, her icy blue eyes sweeping over him like he was something stuck to the bottom of her designer shoe. Behind her stood Emma’s older brother, Patrick, dressed in a tailored navy suit, his lips curled in a mocking smile.

Oliver opened his mouth to greet them, but Victoria brushed past him, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. “Hold it to yourself. I don’t have time for your nonsense.”

Patrick followed, smirking as he forcefully pushed Oliver sideways. “Don’t just stand there, Oliver. Move aside Can’t you see there are more people outside?”

Before Oliver could respond, Emma’s cousin Claire stepped in, her arms folded as she wrinkled her nose. “This place is even smaller than I imagined. How do you live like this?”

Right behind her came Mr. Robert, Emma's step dad, his belly straining against his sweater, carrying an air of disdain. “Tch. I thought we were visiting a proper home, not some shoebox.”

Emma’s younger sister Leah entered next, clicking her gum loudly. She didn’t even look at Oliver as she tossed her coat onto the nearest chair. “This place is depressing. No wonder Emma’s been so unhappy.”

Aunt Margot brought up the rear, her sharp eyes darting around the room like she was inspecting a crime scene. She sniffed loudly, her chin held high. “I hope you’re not expecting us to eat anything from here. I wouldn’t trust the hygiene.”

Finally, Victoria’s youngest sister, Felicity, stepped inside. She adjusted her scarf, her lips pursed in disapproval. “I can already feel the poverty in the air.”

Oliver closed the door behind them, his heart sinking. He forced a polite smile. “Good evening, everyone. Emma didn't tell me you all were coming.”

Victoria turned to face him, her arms crossed. “Cut the pleasantries, Oliver. We’re not here for some….” Her gaze fell on the bouquet of roses, and she snorted. “What’s this? Did you pull those out of someone’s garden?”

“They’re for Emma,” Oliver said softly. “It’s our anniversary.”

Patrick barked out a laugh, slapping Oliver on the shoulder in a way that felt more like a shove. “Anniversary? You still think that means something?”

Claire rolled her eyes, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You really are clueless, aren’t you?”

Oliver frowned, confusion tightening his chest. “What are you all talking about? Where’s Emma?”

Victoria’s lips curled into a cruel smile as she reached into her handbag and pulled out a thick envelope. She thrust it into his hands. “Here. This should clear things up for you.”

Oliver’s hands trembled as he opened the envelope. His heart sank as his eyes scanned the bold letters at the top: Divorce Agreement.

“No… no, this can’t be right,” he stammered. “Emma wouldn’t… she wouldn’t agree to this. We’re happy—”

“Happy?” Mr. Robert barked out a laugh, his belly shaking. “Are you delusional, boy? Emma’s been miserable since the day she married you!”

Leah smirked, popping her gum. “Honestly, I don’t know what she ever saw in you.”

“Neither do I,” Aunt Margot added, her voice dripping with disdain. “She could have married anyone—doctors, lawyers, CEOs—but she chose you. A man with no wealth, no status, no future.”

Oliver shook his head, his voice trembling. “That’s not true. I’ve been working. I was going to apply for a new job—”

Patrick interrupted with a loud scoff. “A new job? Doing what? Washing cars?”

The room erupted in laughter. Even Felicity, who had been silent until now, let out a derisive chuckle. “Face it, Oliver. You’re a nobody. You’ll never be good enough for Emma.”

Victoria stepped closer, her icy gaze boring into him. “Sign the papers, Oliver. End this farce of a marriage before you drag Emma down any further into poverty.”

“I won’t,” Oliver said firmly, though his voice wavered a little. “Not without speaking to Emma first. She wouldn’t agree to this. She loves me.”

“Loves you?” Claire snorted. “You really are miserable. She’s moved on, Oliver. She doesn’t need you anymore. Can't you read the room?”

Patrick leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “She’s with a real man now. Someone who can actually give her the life she deserves.”

Oliver’s chest tightened, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “That’s… that’s not true. Emma wouldn’t—”

“Her signature is right there,” Victoria snapped, pointing at the papers in his hands. “Do you think we forged it? She’s done with you, Oliver.”

Oliver stared at the signature, his vision blurring with tears. It was Emma’s handwriting, unmistakable.

“She didn’t even have the decency to tell me herself,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Why would she bother?” Leah said with a smirk. “You’re not worth the effort.”

Victoria turned on her heel, “we are giving you from now till tomorrow to pack your things. Make sure you’re gone by then.”

Oliver stood frozen in the middle of the living room, the divorce papers clutched in his trembling hands.

For three years, he had endured their insults and humiliation, believing it was worth it for Emma. But now, he realized the truth: he had been nothing more than a burden to them, a mistake they were eager to erase.