Marriage to Emily was, for a long while, a waking nightmare. She was demanding and loud, but my father had chosen her for me. He spotted the daughter of his old mate and decided wed be the perfect match. Since I didnt have another girl in my life and Id already turned thirty, I had no choice but to go along with it and get married. Emily ran the show in our marriage; everything had to be done according to her plans and wishes. As shed mapped out, our first child arrived, and then the second.
Life just ticked along, mired in hardship and disappointments. There were plenty of rough patches that made it feel more like living in a nightmare than building a future. Ill admit, I hated my wife, resented my children, and ended up having a massive falling out with my father-in-law. I never thought Id survive it all without a divorce.
Mum always tried to support me, but she and Dad both kept telling me to just be patient and wait things out. It was as if, in their old age, they knew something I didnt, as if they were certain Id figure it out in time too.
Years passed and the children grew up, going off to live their own lives. Im still with Emily; weve grown used to one another, found our rhythm, and I cant imagine my life without her now. Moneys more or less steady these days. At last, we have this quiet contentment that almost feels like a scene from a storybook. Were both healthy, we want for nothing, and we love each otherlife feels free of worries. Theres nothing really left to complain about.
It took us ages to reach this point, and now I find myself wondering do people genuinely feel happiness when theyre buried in work, raising kids, and constantly busy? Or does it catch up with them only in their later years, as it did with mewhen theres nowhere left to escape to, and theres really no reason to run anymore? And I realise now: sometimes contentment is a slow reward, one that sneaks up on you when you least expect it.
