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Who Would Ever Want You, Clara? Toothless, Childless, Classless—The Story of a Woman Reinvented Afte…

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Who would ever want you? Toothless, barren, mongrel Clara.
Who would ever want you? shouted Paul before spitting on the ground and walking out.
I rushed to the window, peering through the glass as the man I had spent fifteen years with disappeared down the street. All those years, I had thought we shared a soul. But he enlightened me before leaving: it was simply convenient for him.

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My flat is perfectly kept, Im a wonderful cook and a devoted homemaker Id have done anything for him.

A fleeting thought passed through my mind I should open the window and call out, beg him not to leave me.

Honestly, Id even stoop so low as to let him stay, even if he was gone for days at a time, spending them with that other woman.

It’s better than being forty-five and utterly alone. My hands hovered at the windowpane, but then my gaze landed on the portrait of my father. Dressed in his uniform, chin lifted proudly, he stared back.

Shame overwhelmed me for my weakness.

I watched again as Paul, elegant in his coat, loaded his bags into that shiny car.

I wandered to the kitchen, passing through the corridor with Grandmothers old wardrobe mirror standing tall. In its reflection, an exhausted, heavy-set woman with grey hair and tired eyes stared back.

I knew I was no beauty, and recently my health had declined. My teeth crumbled, but there was never enough money for replacements Paul always needed a new car, and had to look impressive at work in expensive suits.

Really, Clara, youre bending over backwards for him. Paul dresses like a film star. Youve got only a stretched jumper, ancient skirt, a couple of blouses. Worn shoes, and boots that arent fit for a museum, let alone your feet. And that coat my gran wouldnt touch it! Yet your daily menu is straight from a bistro: steak tonight, steamed cutlets tomorrow, filled crepes, roast it never ends! Why dont you tell him where to go? You cant live like this, said Lucy, my colleague and friend.

I half-listened, but did as I had always done. Until Paul announced he was leaving me for a twenty-seven-year-old woman. With four children.

Shes young, I sighed.

But Lucy did some digging through social media and asked neighbours. She discovered quite a lot.

Don’t let him call you a mongrel! Youre from a good family! That womans a catastrophe never worked a day, each child has a different father, she was still drinking at eight months pregnant. Her mothers no better. Forget youth men might like it, but you cant build a family on that! I dont get Paul at all. Chin up, Clara.

I held it together. The flat Id inherited was spacious, right in the city centre.

My father had the foresight to transfer everything to me, leaving Paul no rights to the property whatsoever. To ease my finances, I decided to let one of the rooms.

There was construction nearby, and soon an engineer moved in charming, bearded, with impeccable manners. His name was William Aldridge. He looked at me with genuine interest, then offered:

Let me pay ahead. You ought to treat yourself and get those teeth sorted. Such a lovely lady shouldnt suffer so.

I blushed. Never considered myself lovely, but longed to fix my teeth.

He gave me more than enough money, insisting I could pay it back later. His brother soon visited and I was stunned:

Sunny yellow jacket, purple trousers, and the most spectacular hairstyle. His name: Cyril. A professional stylist.

He came to see his brother and took me under his wing. When I offered home-baked pies, Cyril suggested a makeover.

And he worked wonders. My hair shone, makeup highlighted my best features, and, thanks to Williams kindness, my teeth were fixed. I started walking to work, shedding extra pounds, even began running in the park.

In the mirror, I saw a smiling woman with dimples, gentle and vibrant. Like a butterfly from a chrysalis.

One afternoon, the bell rang. My lodger called out:

Clara, someones for you!

At the door stood my ex-husband. I barely recognised him in a year, Paul was worn down, pale, and lost. All his former sparkle had vanished. His bags lay at his feet.

What do you want? I asked.

I remembered how I had tried calling him at first. Hed refused to answer, blocked my number entirely.

But now he was here.

Youve changed so much! he gushed.

His compliments didnt move me. Memories of sleepless nights, despair, endless tears and panic flooded back.

Clara, Ive suffered. That woman just squeezed money out of me. The kids seemed okay at first, but then impossible, screaming all the time. She never bothered with them, glued to her phone, never cooks. Bought frozen dumplings. Once, she boiled noodles! Can you imagine? Noodles! For me! She ruined all my shirts. I havent bought one thing for myself. Its like being in a madhouse. Clara, I miss you terribly. Cant we start again, please?

But echoing in my mind were his departing words:

Who wants you? Toothless, barren, mongrel Clara.

I took a long look at Paul. And just then William Aldridge appeared behind the door, concern in his voice:

Clara! Do you need help here? Whats this about?

Paul snapped, And who are you?

Hes my husband, William. Youre not welcome here ever again! And I shut the door firmly in his stunned face.

I apologised to my lodger for calling William my husband. He just sighed and blurted out:

Maybe its time to tell you. Clara, I love you. How could anyone let go of such an incredible woman? Will you marry me? For real?

He was a widower. Within two months, I accepted. William showered me with roses. We bought a cottage.

Sometimes, I notice Paul lurking around the corner as William and I stroll hand-in-hand, happy and in love. I know Paul curses himself for trading a good person for nothing.

Now, he has nothing.

But William and I walk together, looking forward to our new life. And Im expecting a child.

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