З життя
Спонтанний шлюб: від життя в достатку до нового вибору.
Оксана народилась і виросла у заможній родині. Вийти заміж за Сергія стало спонтанним рішенням. Дівчина прагнула насолити батькам, піти проти їхньої волі. Тому й обрала людину без грошей, квартири та нормальної роботи. В одному дівчині пощастило — Сергій дуже любив її і старався заради неї.
Привіз дружину Сергій до квартири батька, адже більше не було куди. І тут все почалося.
— Що вона у тебе, королева? — кричав батько, не добираючи слів. — Ні їжу приготувати, ні посуд помити! Скільки це можна терпіти?
— Тато, не кричи, прошу, Оксанка все почує, — намагався заспокоїти син, але ставав тільки гірше.
— Почує? Ти ще й боїшся її образити? — розпалився чоловік. — Ти збираєшся виховувати дружину чи ні?
— Тату, прошу, не втручайся. Оксана обов’язково зміниться. Вона ще не звикла, зрозумій.
— Не розумію! — кричав батько. — Не розумію, що в домі немає гарячої вечері, що раковина повна посуду.
Оксана з’явилася під час сварки і дуже здивувала Сергія. Вираз її обличчя був непохитним.
— Я не прислуга. Якщо хочете їсти, приготуйте собі або… — вона провела пальчиком по запиленій старій плиті. — Хоча б купіть нормальну техніку…
Олег, батько Сергія, ще більше озлився.
— Техніка не подобається? Іди зароби. На моїй шиї сидіти не будете! Або обидва працюйте, або киш з моєї квартири!
— Збирайся, Сергію. Більше я тут не залишуся.
Сергій підкорився. Зібрав речі і поїхав разом з Оксаною. Батько намагався його зупинити.
— Вона ж на твоїй шиї сидить, — відмовляв його батько. — Вона ж обнагліла, її треба поставити на місце. А ти що робиш? Біжиш за першим її кличем.
Вона ж останнє забере і викине тебе. Ти ж їй не рівня!
— Не тобі вирішувати, — син глянув на батька невдоволено і вийшов з квартири, прихопивши валізу.
На вулиці на нього чекала Оксана. Вона переминалася з ноги на ногу і командувала.
— Викликай таксі, поїдемо до моїх. Будеш просити мого батька, щоб він нас пустив, обіцяти йому все на світі. Але жити я хочу у нормальних умовах. І ще, — уважно подивилася на чоловіка, — ти повинен переконати мого батька, що жити з ними — це тільки твоє рішення.
Сергій погоджувався з кожним її словом. У квартирі батьків дружини довго принижувався і просив.
— Прийшли, значить? — батько Оксани дивився на зятя зверху вниз. — І що вам треба?
Коли Оксана тікала, вона сказала, що не хоче мати з нами нічого спільного.
— Геннадій Іванович, вона була на емоціях. Крім того, самі розумієте, я поки працюю на півставки, не можу забезпечити вашу доньку, як вона того заслуговує…
— Це не мої проблеми. Жити у нашому домі ви не будете. Оксана обрала тебе, от і забезпечуй як хочеш.
Оксана і Сергій пішли. Молодому чоловіку довелося шукати можливості, щоб підзаробити. Доводилося часто позичати у знайомих і друзів.
Перші два роки вони жили дуже важко. Мати Оксани допомагала потроху, щоб чоловік не знав, і іноді батько Сергія підкидав грошей.
— Якби не твій батько, — бурчала дружина, — жили би хоч у твоїй квартирі.
— Ти сама захотіла піти, — нагадав чоловік. — Тато не був проти, щоб ми з ним жили. Вимагав елементарного: приготувати поїсти і прибрати. Це жіночі обов’язки.
— А хто сказав, що це жіночі обов’язки? У мене шкіра від води псується. Мені не можна мити посуд, а про готування я взагалі мовчу…
Сергій не сперечався, лиш махнув рукою. Знав, що це марно. Переконати її не вдасться.
Через два роки “бідності”, як казала Оксана, дружина вигадала ідеальний план.
— Нам потрібна дитина, — сказала вона. — Я втомилася рахувати копійки, хочу жити нормально.
— Думаєш, якщо ти народиш, мені зарплату підвищать у десять разів? — засміявся Сергій. — Не вигадуй, дитина — це ще більше витрат. Ми поки не можемо собі дозволити дитину. Хоча, якщо ти підеш працювати, нам стане легше.
— Нічого подібного. Я ж сказала, потрібна дитина. Тоді тато мене простить і забезпечить нормальне життя.
Оксана вже ходила до батька і просила прощення, навіть обіцяла піти від чоловіка. Але він навіть не захотів розмовляти з нею.
— Ти доросла, самостійна. Жити з нами і на нашому забезпеченні більше не будеш.
Оксана повернулася додому і раділа, що чоловіку нічого не сказала. А то раптом би потім не пустив?
Отже, Оксана все продумала. Дитина стане справжнім порятунком, батьки тут же простять і почнуть допомагати.
Про подальше Оксана і не думала.
Вагітність дійсно позитивно вплинула на відносини Оксани з батьками.
Батьки почали помалу допомагати, приїжджали у гості, свекор влаштував Сергія на хорошу роботу.
— Ключі від дачі, — батько простягнув зв’язку Сергію. — Ми туди не навідуємось. А вам свіже повітря корисне.
Сергій з вдячністю прийняв ключі і тут же відвіз туди дружину.
— Ну ось, мій план спрацював, — казала Оксана, гуляючи по великому заміському будинку. — Хоч відпочинемо по-людськи.
— Оксано, нам ще дитину виховувати, це великі гроші, сама розумієш. А житла у нас немає.
— А я все придумала, — спокійно відповіла вона. — Запроси мого батька в гості, сюди.
— Навіщо? Ви ж з ним у сварці.
— Яка різниця, що ми з ним. Кажу ж, запроси сюди, сьогодні ж.
Тільки не кажи, що це я придумала. І не кажи, що дача моїх батьків, скажи, що зняв на тиждень.
Сергій не зрозумів, що задумала дружина. Він просто звик виконувати все, що вона скаже. Тому він зателефонував батькові і трохи змінив ситуацію.
— Тату, привіт, — Сергій говорив спокійно. — Ми з Оксаною за містом. Вона чекає дитину, ось я і подумав, вам би помиритися. Приїжджай, ми ж сім’я.
Батько довго не думав, такий шанс, син сам запросив. Зібрався, взяв вихідні на роботі і відправився на дачу.
Оксана помітила машину здалеку і усміхнулася. Спрацювало.
— Що треба? — Оксана зустрічала гостя біля будинку. — Ви ж нас вигнали.
Олег навіть трохи розгубився.
— Син запросив у гості.
Оксана фыркнула і зникла в будинку.
Сергій вийшов назустріч батькові.
— Так, тату, не звертай уваги. Гормони в неї, таке. Минеться. Розповідай, як справи?
Чоловіки проговорили декілька годин. Оксана демонстративно не виходила з кімнати, а ввечері, коли свекор зник у кімнаті, вона голосно заявила.
— Я терпіти твого батька не збираюся! Він вигнав нас із дому! Через нього в твоєї дитини немає дому. Нехай чимчикує назад! Як він з нами, так і ми.
— Що ти? — здивувався Сергій. — Вночі він не поїде. Зранку хіба що.
Олег все чув і навіть не став розкладати речі. Планував вранці поїхати. Але виявилося, що хтось проколов колеса.
— Діти, мабуть, з сусідніх будинків, — невпевнено сказав Сергій, коли вийшов проводжати батька. — Залишайся, через пару днів разом поїдемо на моїй.
Олег кивнув і повернувся в будинок, хоч і не хотілося. Оксана все більше влаштовувала істерику і скандали.
— Я не збираюся терпіти вашого батька в домі, — зло шептала Оксана. — Ми приїхали відпочивати, а не на нього дивитися.
— А що я можу зробити? Пропонуєш відправити його назад пішки?
— Та як хочеш, але вирішуй проблему! Хто важливіший: батько чи дитина? — жінка інтуїтивно поклала руку на живіт.
Чоловік слухав кожну претензію і не витримав.
— Оксана, давай постараємось знайти спільну мову. У вас сім’я, у мене онук скоро з’явиться. Що ти хочеш?
— Квартиру, — спокійно заявила невістка. — Я хочу квартиру.
— В мене немає таких грошей. Квартиру можуть подарувати твої батьки.
— Я хочу квартиру від вас. Ви нас вигнали, ви нам і подаруйте свою квартиру.
— А я куди? — здивувався такій наглості Олег, хоча, знаючи невістку, не варто нічому дивуватися.
— Це не мої проблеми. Не будете ж ви жити з молодою сім’єю разом? Та ще й онук народиться, місця мало буде для всіх.
Олег повернувся у свою кімнату.
— Квартиру їй подавай, зовсім вже заболіла! А потім що? Зарплату їм свою переводи? І де він тільки таку знайшов? — бурчав чоловік. — І вибору мені не залишили: або квартиру, або йди геть…
Олег вранці підійшов до сина.
— Квартиру хочеш? Я відпишу тобі половину. Тільки не бачу в цьому сенсу, ти єдиний спадкоємець. Жити не пущу.
— Тату, — Сергій тільки зараз зрозумів, що взагалі задумала його дружина. — Дякую, але мені не потрібна твоя квартира.
Оксана стояла і слухала, скрестивши руки на грудях.
Олег закінчив розмову і вийшов на вулицю, викликав таксі і зник.
Оксана, на диво чоловіка, спокійно сприйняла новину і зникла у своїй кімнаті. Тема більше не піднімалася.
Оксана дочекалась, поки свекор переписав половину квартири на сина.
— Ми здамо кімнату, — заявила дружина. — Нам потрібні гроші.
— Оксано, ти що, там же тато живе… Ми не можемо…
— Ще як можемо. Нас він вигнав, тепер хай отримає відповідь.
Сперечатися Сергій з вагітною дружиною не міг. Довелося зробити так, як вона просила. Знайшли квартиронаймачку.
— Ідеальний варіант, — раділа Оксана. — Жінка в літах з жахливим характером. Ось у твого батька життя буде…
Олег сприйняв новину спокійно, очікував чогось подібного. І навіть знайшов спільну мову з новою житємецьицею.
Марія сподобалась чоловіку, і через якийсь час він зробив їй пропозицію. А на весілля запросив сина з дружиною.
— Квартиру продамо, половина грошей твоя, — говорить Олег синові. — Ми з Марією будиночок купимо і поїдемо.
Оксана фыркнула і навіть слухати не стала. Вона хотіла зробити як гірше, але вийшло навпаки. І це її злостило.
— Ти ж за всю квартиру винен сину, — шипіла невістка. — Ти, Сергію, не розумієш? Він все на свою Марію оформить!
— Оксано, заспокойся, — син вперше вступився за батька. — Я радий за тебе, тату.
Коли народилась дитина, Оксані стало важко. Батьки не дуже допомагали молодим — ніяк не могли змиритись з вибором доньки. Відмовились наймати няню, а у чоловіка таких грошей не було.
Жінка не витримала і втекла, а Сергій зателефонував батькові. Більше просити допомоги не було у кого.
Олег і Марія приїхали одразу.
Коли повернулась Оксана, чоловік навіть не пустив її в квартиру.
Внука стали виховувати бабуся і дідусь, Сергій подав на розлучення.
А Оксана повернулась до батьків, дитину забирати не стала, адже той був їй тягарем.
“My Grandchildren Only Get Fruit Once a Month, While I Buy Gourmet Food for My Cats”—My Daughter-in-Law Fumes and Accuses Me of Heartlessness… My daughter-in-law tried to shame me because her children only get fruit once a month, while I treat my cats to quality food. What she overlooks is that children have a mum and dad to care for their nutrition, but my cats only have me. When I once suggested that my son and his wife slow down on having children, they told me to mind my own business. So I did. Now I feed my cats and listen to my ever-indignant, child-devoted daughter-in-law.
My grandchildren only see fruit once a month, yet she buys those cats of hers the most expensive food! my...
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I Shouted From the Window: “Mum, Why Are You Up So Early? You’ll Catch Cold!” — She Turned, Waved Her Shovel in Greeting: “I’m Doing This For You Lot, You Lazybones.” — And The Next Day My Mum Was Gone… Even Now, I Can’t Walk Past Our Old Garden Without Heartache… Every Time I See That Path, My Heart Clenches As If Someone’s Gripping It. It Was On The Second Of January I Took That Photo… I Was Just Passing By, Noticed The Footprints In The Snow — And Stopped. Snapped A Picture, Not Really Knowing Why. Now, That Photo Is All I’ve Got Left From Those Days… We Celebrated New Year’s As Always, All Together As A Family. Mum Was Up Early On The 31st, As Usual. The Smell Of Frying Burgers And Her Voice In The Kitchen Woke Me Up: “Love, Get Up! Help Me Finish The Salads, Or Your Dad Will Scoff Half The Ingredients Again!” I Came Down In My Pyjamas, Hair All Over The Place. She Was By The Cooker In Her Favourite Apron With Peaches — The One I Gave Her In School. Her Cheeks Were Rosy From The Oven And She Was Smiling. “Mum, Let Me At Least Have Coffee First,” I Moaned. “Coffee Later! First, The Salad!” She Laughed, Tossing Me A Bowl Of Roast Veg. “Chop It Fine Like I Like — Not Fist-Sized Chunks Like Last Time.” We Chopped And Chatted About Everything Under The Sun. She Told Me About New Year’s In Her Childhood — No Fancy Salads, Only A Herring Under Its Coat And The Tangerines Her Dad Brought Home Especially. Soon Dad Brought In The Christmas Tree — Huge, Nearly To The Ceiling. “Ladies, Come Admire The Tree!” He Announced Proudly. “Dad, Did You Chop Down The Whole Forest?” I Gasped. Mum Walked In, Threw Her Hands Up: “It’s Lovely, But Where Will We Put It? Last Time Was Smaller.” Still, She Helped Us Decorate. My Sister Lera And I Hung Up The Lights, Mum Dug Out The Old Decorations From My Childhood. I Remember Her Picking Out The Little Glass Angel. She Whispered, “I Bought This For Your First New Year, Remember?” “I Do, Mum,” I Lied. I Didn’t, Not Really, But I Nodded. She Glowed Because I Remembered That Angel… My Brother Arrived Later, As Usual — Laden With Bags, Gifts, And Bottles. “Mum, Got Proper Champagne This Year! Not That Sour Stuff From Last Time.” “Oh, Love, Just Don’t Let Everyone Get Plastered,” Mum Laughed, Hugging Him. At Midnight, We All Went Outside. Dad And My Brother Set Off Fireworks, Lera Squealed With Joy — And Mum Stood Beside Me, Arm Around My Shoulders. “Look, Love, Isn’t It Beautiful?” She Whispered. “What A Wonderful Life We Have…” I Hugged Her Back. “The Best One, Mum.” We Drank Champagne Round The Bottle, Laughed When A Firework Whizzed Towards The Neighbour’s Shed. Mum, A Little Tipsy, Danced In Her Woolly Boots To “Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree,” And Dad Swept Her Off Her Feet. We Laughed Ourselves To Tears. On The First Of January, We Lounged All Day. Mum Cooked Again — This Time Dumplings And Jellied Meat. “Mum, Stop Already! We’re Going To Burst!” I Moaned. “Nonsense, You’ll Finish It — New Year Celebrations Last A Week,” She Brushed Me Off. On The Second, She Was Up Early Again. I Heard The Door, Peeked Out — There She Was In The Garden With Her Shovel. Clearing The Path. Old Puffy Jacket, Scarf Tied, Working Carefully: From The Gate Right Up To The Steps — Narrow, Straight. Piling Snow Beside The Wall Like She Always Did. I Called Out The Window: “Mum, Why So Early? You’ll Freeze Out There!” She Turned Back, Waved Her Shovel: “Otherwise You Lazy Lot Will Walk Through Snowdrifts All Spring! Go On, Put The Kettle On.” I Smiled, Went To The Kitchen. She Came In Half An Hour Later, Cheeks Rosy, Eyes Bright. “All Done, Nice And Tidy,” She Said, Sitting With Her Coffee. “Came Out Well, Didn’t It?” “Yes, Mum. Thank You.” That Was The Last Time I Heard Her Sound So Full Of Life. On January Third, She Woke And Whispered, “Girls, My Chest Feels Odd. Not Bad, Just Uncomfortable.” I Got Worried At Once. “Mum, Shall We Call An Ambulance?” “Oh, Don’t Fret, Love. I’m Just Worn Out. Cooked And Dashed About So Much. I’ll Rest, It’ll Pass.” She Lay Down, Lera And I At Her Side. Dad Went To The Chemist For Some Pills. She Even Joked, “Don’t Look So Gloomy, I’ll Outlive The Lot Of You.” Then She Turned Pale. Clutched Her Chest. “Oh… I feel awful… Too Awful…” We Called An Ambulance. I Held Her Hand, Whispered, “Mummy, Hold On, They’re Coming, It’ll Be Fine…” She Looked At Me, Barely Audible, “Love… I adore you all… I hate to say goodbye.” The Paramedics Came Quickly, But… There Was Nothing They Could Do. A Massive Heart Attack. It All Happened In Minutes. I Sat On The Hall Floor And Howled. I Couldn’t Believe It. Just Yesterday She Danced Beneath The Fireworks, Full Of Life — Now… Barely Steady, I Went Out To The Garden. The Snow Hardly Falling Anymore. And I Saw Her Footprints. Those Same Small, Neat, Straight Prints From The Gate To The Steps And Back Again. Exactly Like She Always Left. I Stood And Stared At Them For Ages. I Asked God, “How Can It Be That Yesterday A Person Walked Here — And Today, They’re Gone? The Footprints Remain, But She Doesn’t.” Maybe I Was Dreaming, But It Seemed Like On The Second Of January She Went Out For The Last Time — To Leave Us A Clear Path. So We Could Cross It Without Her. I Didn’t Let Anyone Shovel Those Prints Away, Asked Them All To Leave Them. Let Them Stay Until The Snow Covers Them For Good. That’s The Last Thing She Did For Us. Her Everyday Care Shone Through Even When She Was Gone. A Week Later, Heavy Snow Covered The Path. I Keep That Photo Of Mum’s Last Footprints. Every Year, On The Third Of January, I Look At It — And Then Out At The Empty Path By The House. And It Hurts To Know That Somewhere Under All That Snow, She Left Her Last Steps. The Ones I’m Still Following…
I remember that chilly January morning I leaned out the window and called, Mum, what are you doing up so...
Strangers in Our Flat Katie was the first to open the door and froze on the threshold. From inside came the sound of the TV, voices in the kitchen, and a strange smell. Behind her, Max nearly dropped the suitcase in shock. “Quiet,” she whispered, stretching out her arm. “Someone’s in there.” There were two complete strangers sprawled out on their beloved beige sofa. A man in trackies flicked through the channels, while a plump woman beside him knitted. On the coffee table—mugs, plates strewn with crumbs, packets of medicine. “Excuse me, who are you?” Katie’s voice trembled. The strangers turned, not the least bit embarrassed. “Oh, you’re back,” the woman didn’t even put her knitting down. “We’re Lynda’s relatives. She gave us the keys, said you weren’t home.” Max paled. “Lynda who?” “Your mum,” the man, finally standing, replied. “We’re from Birmingham, here with Michael for some health checks. She put us up here, told us you wouldn’t mind.” Katie wandered into the kitchen. At the hob stood a teenage boy, frying sausages. The fridge was packed with unfamiliar food. Dishes were piled in the sink. “And you are?” she managed. “Michael,” he turned. “Why, shouldn’t I eat? Granny Lynda said it was fine.” She returned to the hall, where Max was already getting his phone out. “Mum, what are you doing?” His voice was quiet, but angry. His mum’s upbeat voice came through the speaker. “Maxie, you’re back already? How was your holiday? Listen, I gave Svetlana the keys, her and Victor came up to London, Michael had to see the docs. Didn’t think it mattered—place would be empty, waste not want not. Just for the week.” “Mum, did you ask us?” “Why should I? You weren’t here. Just tell them I’m responsible for the flat, make sure they tidy up.” Katie grabbed the phone: “Lynda, are you serious? You let strangers into our flat?” “What strangers? It’s only my cousin Svetlana! We shared a bed as kids.” “And? That’s our flat!” “Katie, don’t be so dramatic. They’re family. They’ll be quiet. They’ve got a sick child, you should help. Or are you just selfish?” Max took back the phone. “One hour, Mum. You come and take them. All of them. Or I’ll ring the police.” He hung up. Katie sat on the pouffe in the hallway, head in her hands, their suitcases still unpacked. The TV buzzed in the lounge, sausages sizzled, and she felt like an uninvited guest in her own home. The woman from the living room appeared looking sheepish. “We’ll start packing,” she murmured. “Lynda thought you wouldn’t mind. We’d have asked you ourselves, but didn’t have your number. She offered, we agreed. Just needed a week for Michael’s appointments.” Max stood by the window, silent, shoulders tense. “Where’s our cat?” Katie suddenly gasped. “What cat?” “Morris. Ginger. We left the keys so you could feed him.” “No idea,” Svetlana shrugged. “Not seen him.” Katie found Morris wedged under the bed, fur bristled, eyes wide. The room smelled unfamiliar; unknown medicine bottles on her nightstand, the bedding different, someone else’s slippers by the door. Max knelt down beside her. “Sorry.” “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.” “For Mum being like this.” “She always does what she wants.” Voices filtered from the corridor—his mum had arrived. Katie straightened her hair and went to face her. Lynda stood in the hallway, glaring. “Max, are you mad?” “Mum, sit down,” he said, pointing to the kitchen. “We’re being thrown out! Svetlana, Victor, pack up, we’ll go to mine.” “Mum, just sit.” They sat at the kitchen table, Michael finishing his sausages. “Mum,” Max said, “how did you think it was okay to let people into our flat without asking?” “I was just helping! Svetlana rang, crying—Michael’s sick, they had nowhere to stay. It’s not like you were here.” “But it’s not your flat.” “Of course it is! I’ve got keys.” “To feed the cat. Not run a B&B.” “Max, they’re family! He’s poorly, they need help. And you’d turn them out?” Katie’s hands shook as she poured water. “You didn’t even ask us, Lynda.” “Why ask? You weren’t here!” “That’s exactly why you should have.” Max’s voice rose. “You could have called. Texted. We’d have talked it over.” “And you’d have said no, I suppose.” “Maybe. Or maybe just for a couple of days. But we’d have known. That’s called respect.” Lynda stood up. “Typical. I try to help, and you throw it back in my face. Svetlana, pack up—we’ll manage at mine.” “You said your flat’s a single-bed, there isn’t room for four.” “We’ll squeeze in. Better than dealing with ungratefulness.” Katie set her glass down. “Lynda, stop. You know you did the wrong thing, or you’d have asked first.” Lynda hesitated. “You knew we’d say no, and wanted to put us on the spot. That we wouldn’t turf people out—yes?” “I thought it was best.” “No, you wanted to do things your way. That’s different.” Lynda finally looked lost. “Svetlana was so upset. Michael’s in pain. I felt sorry for them.” “We get that,” Max said. “But you can’t just use what isn’t yours. Imagine if I let my mates move into your flat without asking.” “I’d be furious.” “Exactly.” They sat in silence, the sounds of hasty packing drifting from the lounge. Michael stood in the doorway, looking at his feet. “Sorry,” the teenager muttered. “Thought it was okay. Gran said so.” Katie gave him a tired smile. “It’s not your fault. Go help your parents, love.” Lynda dabbed her eyes: “I really thought I was helping. Never occurred to me to ask. You’re still my kids—I just assumed…” “We’re not kids anymore, Mum. We’re thirty—we have our own life.” “I see.” She handed over the keys. “You’ll want these back?” “Yes,” Katie said. “Trust is broken now.” “I understand.” Svetlana’s family packed quickly. Their apologies were awkward and endless. Lynda drove them away, promising to find space. Max closed the door behind them and leaned against it. They checked the flat—unmade beds, the fridge filled with strange food, bits left behind, and their cat still cowering. Katie opened the kitchen window. “Think she’ll get it this time?” “Not sure. I hope so.” “And if not?” “Then we’ll just have to set firmer boundaries.” She hugged him, and together they stood among the chaos. “You know what hurts most?” Katie pulled away. “The cat. We did all this for him and he’s hungry and terrified.” “Did they even feed him?” “Doesn’t look like it—bowl’s empty, water filthy. They probably forgot he existed.” Max knelt by the bed. “Morris, mate, we’re not giving her the keys again.” The cat cautiously crawled out at last. Katie gave him food; he devoured it, as if he hadn’t eaten in days. They started cleaning. Threw out the strange food, changed the sheets, washed the dishes. Gradually, their flat became home again. Morris slept on the windowsill, finally settled. That evening, Lynda rang. Her voice was quiet, apologetic. “Max, I’ve been thinking. You were right. I’m sorry.” “Thanks, Mum.” “Is Katie angry?” He glanced at his wife—she nodded. “She is. But she’ll forgive you. In time.” They sat up late over tea, silent. Out the window the city darkened; their flat, finally, was quiet and theirs again. Holiday was well and truly over—suddenly and brutally.
Sarah was the first to open the door, halting on the threshold. From within the flat drifted the sound of...
The Fool Everyone thought Ann was a simpleton. She’d been married to her husband for fifteen years, and they had two children: Alice, fourteen, and Sean, seven. Her husband barely hid his affairs—he cheated on her the second day after their wedding, with a waitress, and no one could count the affairs after that. Her friends tried to open her eyes, but Ann just smiled sweetly and stayed silent. Ann worked as an accountant at a children’s toy factory. Her salary, as she said, was pitifully small, but her workload reached the sky. She even had to work weekends and sometimes stayed overnight during quarterly and annual reports. Her husband earned very well. Ann, however, was a hopeless homemaker. No matter how much money she got, it was never enough for groceries, the fridge was always empty, and—at best—there was just soup and sausages with pasta. And so they lived. Everyone was amazed to see Val with yet another new girlfriend. He often came back home, as they said, “dry as a bone.” “Oh, Ann’s such a fool. Why does she put up with a philanderer?” On the day Sean turned ten, her husband came home and announced he was getting a divorce. He’d fallen in love, and the family no longer suited him. “Don’t be upset, Ann, but I’m filing for divorce. You’re as cold as a fish. If you were at least a good homemaker, but you can’t even manage that.” “That’s fine. I agree to the divorce.” Val nearly fell off his chair. He’d been prepared for a scandal, a hysterical scene, tears—he hadn’t expected such calm. “Alright, then pack your things and I won’t get in your way. I’ll come back tomorrow, just leave your key under the mat.” Ann looked at him with a strange, almost suspicious smile. It all seemed odd to Val, but he soon forgot about it, picturing his new life without his wife or the kids. The next day he came back with his new flame. There was no key under the mat, making him a bit grumpy. “No matter, I’ll change the locks, easy.” He tried his key in the lock—it didn’t fit. He knocked on the door. A big, burly man in slippers and a dressing gown opened it. “What do you want, mate?” “This is my flat, actually,” Val said, not too convincingly. “I’d argue with that, got any paperwork? If you do, best show it.” Of course, Val had no documents on him. Suddenly, he remembered the proof of registration in his passport. He fumbled and finally found it. “Here’s my passport—the address is inside.” The man in the dressing gown flicked through the papers, then smirked and handed it back. “When did you last open this booklet?” Val, sensing something wrong, turned to the registration page. There were two stamps—one for moving in, one two years ago for moving out. What happened? He didn’t argue with the giant. He tried to call his wife, but she was out of reach. He decided to wait for her after work. But here too, he failed. Ann had left her job a year ago. Their daughter had gone abroad to study, and their son should still be at school. But even at school, he got nowhere—Sean had transferred last year, and they wouldn’t give details to a father who didn’t know where his son went. Utterly defeated, Val sat on a bench, head in hands. How could this happen? His meek, mousy ex had orchestrated this? And how did she sell the flat? Well, he’d sort it out in court—divorce was a week away. He arrived at the divorce hearing angry, determined to expose her and get back what was his. At the hearing, everything fell into place. He’d completely forgotten signing a general power of attorney to his wife two years ago—at the time, he was so smitten with Eliza, his new paramour, that he’d signed whatever his then-wife asked for, to help their daughter with paperwork for studying abroad. He’d handed over everything himself. Now he was left with nothing, on the street, and, worst of all, with no flat, Eliza vanished too. “At least she’ll file for alimony, then I’ll teach her a lesson!” he thought. But disappointment struck again. Instead of a summons for child support, he received one challenging his paternity. Turns out, both children were not his. On their wedding day, Ann had seen her husband cheating with a waitress. Something short-circuited inside her. She couldn’t explain what happened, but she chose a unique path for revenge. First, an affair for an affair. Then she started saving. Every penny her husband gave for groceries, she hid. The fridge stood empty, but the kids had nice clothes and ate at their grandmother’s. Ann’s mother shook her head and tried to talk her daughter out of it. “Revenge will destroy you, and shatter the children’s minds,” her mother warned. But Ann stayed obsessed with her goal—and reached it. She did DNA tests on the kids, though she already knew they weren’t her husband’s. That was a knockout blow for Val. Losing the flat didn’t hurt as much as finding out neither child was his. Never underestimate a wronged woman—in anger, she is capable of anything.
Silly Girl Everyone considered Emily a silly girl. She had been married to her husband for fifteen years, and they...
“I Never Invited You! – The Daughter-in-Law’s Voice Broke as She Faced Uninvited In-laws on Her Birthday”
I never invited you! The daughter-in-law’s voice finally trembled. I didnt ask you to come! Matthew stood in the kitchen,...