UNWANTED WIFE
When Peter met Emily, there were no fireworks, no rush of mutual affection, and even when they caught sight of each other later, neither of them felt their hearts skip a beat. It just happened that one evening, Peter ended up walking Emily home from a village danceit would have been awkward not to, everyone had paired off, and he simply found himself left with her. After that, he popped round a few more times, just for a chat. Emily was pleasant to look at and, more importantly, down-to-earth and calm. Before long, their friends teased, So, whens the wedding? While Peters parents gave serious advice on proposing.
So, they got married. Life in the countryside kept them busythey worked hard, and there was little time to consider each other’s feelings. Their only son, Daniel, was their pride, doing well first at school, then at university. Eventually, he met a lovely girl and wedding preparations began. Emily was thrilled by his choiceshe liked Rebecca very much. Like any mother, she’d worried about this, but now could finally relax a little. But trouble arrived from where no one expected.
The wedding was in full swing: the village hall was packed with guests, the music blared from the speakers, and the tables groaned under the weight of food. Emily sat perfectly content, both glowing and slightly tired. She watched the dressed-up crowd, children chasing balloons, and the young people dancing cheerfully. She was happy. Among the dancers, she spotted her husband, who was enthusiastically jiving in front of a flashy blonde. The woman, chest out and all smiles, kept brushing up against him, clearly flirting. Look at him, the old dog Emily thought, amused.
Then the lights dimmed as a slow tune began. The newlyweds whirled around the centre of the room. Emily forgot everything, dabbing her eyes with a napkin. What a lovely couple! Rebecca, delicate in lace, her slender arms encased in gloves wrapped around Daniels neck. He, a head taller, stood over her like a rock, holding her gently…
At that moment, Emilys gaze caught Peter again. The blonde draped herself over him, and they swayed on the spot as she whispered excitedly in his ear, laughing and fluttering her lashes. Beside Emily sat her cousin, expertly forking salad into her mouth, who shared the gossip: Thats Rebeccas workmate, Charlotte. Single, just a smidge younger than you. Go on, give them a whack, Ill back you up!
Oh, leave it out, Emily replied, Im not about to spoil Daniels wedding over this! Ill chat to Peter at home. But her mood was ruined, and, for the rest of the evening, her husband hardly left Charlottes side. The blonde, flushed and tipsy, danced wildlyshoes off, sweat wiped from her brow every other minute. Emily even felt a pang of envy for such boundless energy.
At home, Peter barely explained himself. Had a few too many, thats alldanced with a lady, so what? Its a celebration! Still, the incident left a bitter taste in Emilys mouth; Peter had shown a side shed never seen, and she didnt like it. The image of the blonde, hair clinging to her damp forehead and a coy smirk on her lips, lingered in Emilys thoughts.
Peter began playing the devoted father. Pack up some treats, Ill take them to Daniel and Rebeccas in the city, he often said. Theyve had enough of you! Let them enjoy their time together, we should keep out of the way now! Emily would reply. But off hed go, jars of jam and pickles in tow; after all, the city wasnt far.
When Rebecca and Daniel came to visit, Emily casually asked if Peters visits were becoming a nuisance. Not really, Daniel said. He just drops the food off, barely even comes in, then disappears to do whatever else hes there for!
One day, Emily asked Peter what business he had in the city. He didnt hide it. Yes, he and Charlotte were seeing each other now. Why? Because she was a firecrackera whirlwind and a celebration all at once! With her, sparks flew: they could argue and make up half a dozen times in an evening, and the passion was nothing hed ever experienced before. She was the kind of woman hed been searching for forever. With Charlotte, there were fireworks and even flying crockery; Emily, on the other hand, was like still water.
Peter left. He quit the sawmill after twenty years and moved to the city with Charlotte. Emily felt as if a ton weight had been set on her chestsuch was her sorrow. She wept buckets, tortured herself with thoughts. Thankfully, Daniel and Rebecca came often, helping out around the house and offering her comfort. They were her only consolation.
Sleepless nights dragged on, questions spinning endlessly in Emilys mind. What did she do wrong? Why had she become unwanted? What made this other woman better? She wondered if she shouldve been more lively, more fiery, thrown crockery and stormed out, only to passionately make up after. But she was calm, sensible, and mildshe could never have played that part for long. If pretending was the only way, perhaps she never should have married Peter at all. But without that marriage, there would be no Daniel. The questions swarmed her brain until she sank at last into merciful sleep.
Emily awoke before dawn, rain and sleet spattering the windows, the sound of raindrops drumming on the tin roof. Her neighbour was struggling to start his old banger, the engine coughing and spluttering still. For years, that noise had signalled the start of her dayshed get up, make breakfast, wake her husband. Now she hesitated, wrapped in the cocoon of her duvet. No need to risePeter was gone, and she was on holiday. Sighing contentedly, she snuggled back beneath the covers for the first time, thinking, How wonderful hes not here and drifted blissfully back to sleep.
Peter was always fretting about draughts, convinced there was a chill from under the door or the window. Because of this, the dining table always sat in the safest, darkest corner, where no cold air could reach. Emily took hold of its edge and heaved; with a clatter, the table creaked its way over to the window, the cups tinkling in protest. Now, with lunch, she could look out over the gardenbare and bleak, the wind pulling at the last few clusters of red berries, vivid against the grey gloom. But she was content. How lovely! she thought, watching snowflakes settle on the branches, dressing them in delicate lace.
Once the snow fell thick and even across the ground, Emily dug her old skis out of the loft. For years, shed had no time for such pleasures. How delightful to glide over the pure whiteshed almost forgotten the sound of sticks tapping the ice and the sparkling dust of snow falling from fir trees. Tired but happy, she returned from her outing.
Emily generously sloshed sunflower oil into the frying pan, the hot oil sizzling and spitting. Peter hated sunflower oil; even the sight of it made him feel queasy. She smiled, tipping potato wedges in. Daniel and Rebecca arrived just as she was eating. Dad said he might come over Daniel said, surprised to see worry flash across his mothers face. Just to pick up some of his winter things, he explained. Oh, you frightened me! Emily said, relieved. Come in, have some! Its delicious! She popped a crisp potato into her mouth, closed her eyes in pleasure and said, How wonderful life is!For the first time in years, Emily did not glance at the clock or worry about getting everything just right. She laughed at Daniels silly stories, admired Rebeccas new scarf, and even let the dishes soak while they played cards at the kitchen table. Through the window, the world had turned bright and silver, every tree heavy with snow. In that warm room, with her family close and the taste of golden potatoes on her tongue, Emily felt keenly alivecontent in herself.
A knock at the back door startled thema snow-capped Peter stood awkwardly on the step, boots caked with slush, a threadbare scarf around his neck and a cardboard box in his arms. There was a moment where the past hovered in the room, the words and wounds bristling just below the surface.
Emily met his eyes, calm and steady. She stepped aside, letting him in. He set the box down. Daniel and Rebecca greeted him, but soon drifted into the living room, leaving the two alone.
Peter cleared his throat, his bravado faded. Looks like you moved the table, he said.
Emily smiled. It has a better view now.
He looked out, following her gaze over the glittering garden. All the years together, the shared habits, the meal after meal across that tableit all seemed somehow distant. For a heartbeat, Emily wondered what she might say. But there was nothing she needed from him anymore. Not explanation, apology, or old affection.
Im glad youre well, Peter said softly. There was longing in his eyes, or maybe just nostalgia.
I am, Emily answered, and meant it. And I hope youll be, too.
He nodded, hands awkward in his pockets. The moment felt lighter than shed imagined.
Soon he left with his things, the door clicking shut behind him. Emily stood a moment, staring at the snow-globed world beyond, before returning to the kitchen. Daniel and Rebecca looked up expectantly.
Tea? she said brightly.
They laughed, and Emily joined in, warmth blooming inside her like spring. She realized that she had lived all these years preparing for someone elses happiness. Now, at last, she was preparing for her ownand at that table by the window, with nothing but the wind and laughter for company, she found it at last.
