Emma considered herself the happiest woman in the world. She had a beloved husband, a long-awaited child, and a home of her own. From early childhood, her mother would say:
— Once you get married, forget about friends and fun, and devote yourself entirely to your family.
And so it happened. Emma had always dreamed of becoming a doctor, moving to Europe, and opening her own private clinic there. Her prospects were quite promising.
Her father’s friend, James, had lived in Germany for many years. He was a successful surgeon, a kind and understanding man. His son, Michael, was Emma’s age. After her father’s death, James often called and occasionally visited.
— Emma, once you finish university, I’m expecting you at my clinic. When you gain some experience, I’ll help you start your own practice.
But those dreams never came to fruition. While in her third year of university, Emma met William. He was the most cheerful and positive person she had ever met.
— You’re my little star and my joy, — he would always say whenever he saw Emma.
It was love. Soon after, they got married. Nine months later, little Edward was born. Naturally, Emma had no time for studies. She abandoned them entirely and dove headfirst into the whirlwind of family life, forgetting about friends, fun, and ultimately burying her dreams of a clinic.
— There’s still time. Life is long. Once Edward grows up, I’ll go back to work, — she thought. — I’ll study part-time, and we’ll all move to Germany together.
Textbooks were replaced by diapers. Edward was a restless child, and Emma was perpetually sleep-deprived. She rushed between the kitchen, the baby’s crib, and the grocery store, with not a single moment to herself.
— It’s okay. I’m strong. Mom managed, and I will too. William needs his rest. He works hard, earning money. I can handle it.
Every time the baby woke up crying at night, Emma hurried to him, careful not to disturb her husband’s sleep. William himself had made it clear more than once that she should spare him from household matters.
— Calm him down. I’m exhausted from work. I have to get up early tomorrow. Take care of the kid.
Emma would go and soothe the baby. She was a good mother and homemaker. Despite her endless tasks, she managed to cook meals and keep the apartment spotless. A wife worth her weight in gold.
— Want us to book you a salon appointment? — her friends would ask. — You could use a new hairstyle and some color.
— No way! I don’t have time for that, — Emma would reply, glancing at her friends with a hint of envy. They shrugged, not understanding.
— Look, take care of yourself, or your William might run off.
— What? No! He loves me and Edward. We’re fine. He just works a lot and gets tired.
After exchanging a few words with her friends, Emma would rush back to her routine: grocery store, hallway, kitchen, nursery. And so the days went by.
Edward grew, but William grew more distant. He started staying late at work and, on Fridays, would go to the bar with friends, calling it “grabbing a beer.”
— He works hard. He’s tired. He needs to unwind, — Emma reassured herself.
One day, she fell seriously ill. Returning home from the store, she felt dizzy. She barely managed to lift seven-month-old Edward from his stroller before her legs gave way, and she collapsed onto the couch. Her head was pounding, her body ached. It seemed she had a fever.
— I’ll just close my eyes for a bit. Just a minute. I’ll rest and start dinner. I just need to lie down for a moment.
Closing her eyes, Emma slipped into a deep sleep. She was jolted awake by her husband’s harsh voice.
— Get up, you lazybones. What are you doing sprawled out like that? I come home hungry from work, and there’s nothing to eat. Stop lounging and make some food.
— Hi, darling. I just lay down for a second. I’m not feeling well. I think I have a fever.
— Really? I think you’re faking it. Get up and make me something to eat. I’m starving.
Emma made a desperate attempt to stand, but another wave of dizziness forced her back onto the pillow.
— Just a moment, darling. I’ll lie here a bit longer and get up, — Emma said, choking back resentment, exhaustion, and tears welling in her eyes.
— What is this? I slave away all day, and you can’t even get your butt off the couch? I’m so fed up with this. I’m going to eat with the guys at the bar.
William grabbed his jacket and stormed out, slamming the door so hard that a chunk of old plaster crashed to the floor. They had never gotten around to renovating the apartment—either they lacked the money, or William was too tired or busy with work.
— Darling, where are you going? You used to smile so sweetly, calling me your little star and joy.
The phone rang. It was Emma’s mother, who lived in a nearby town and rarely visited.
— Hello, happy mom and wife! I decided to surprise you. I’m at a friend’s place right now, having coffee and chatting. I’ll come straight to your place afterward. Is William home?
Emma burst into tears.
— I’m coming right now.
— Okay, Mom.
Eleanor arrived forty minutes later.
— I knew something was wrong. I took a taxi and came as fast as I could. How are you, my dear?
Emma sat up on the couch, hugged her crawling son, and sobbed again.
— This isn’t the happiness I imagined.
— What happened?
— Mom, I did everything you told me. I dropped my studies, my friends, and stopped going out. My whole life revolved around family, — Emma cried again.
— Oh, my girl. What has he turned you into? — Eleanor sat beside her, embracing her daughter and grandson.
— Mom, I did everything for him, spared no effort. But the moment I got sick, he just ran off.
— Where’s he going to go? He’ll come back.
— Mom, I can’t do this anymore. I’m exhausted. I’m worn out. I’m not a servant. I’m a woman. And he doesn’t appreciate me. I don’t understand why he treats me like this. I don’t deserve it.
— Stop your whining. It’ll all work out. You’ll see, he’ll come home, you’ll make up, and everything will be fine. He’s a hard-working man, brings money home. Calm down. I put up with your father backрош
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— I know, Mom. I’m just so tired. I can’t keep going like this.
— Just rest for now. I’ll get you some medicine and make some tea. You’ll be good as new.
Emma lay back on the couch, handing Edward to her grandmother’s caring hands.
— Watch Edward for me.
— Of course, dear. Rest. I’ll take care of him and feed him. Everything will be alright, you’ll see.
That evening, Eleanor stayed over at her daughter’s place. As promised, she made tea for Emma, fed Edward, and made up a small cot for herself.
— Good night.
— Good night, — Emma said quietly, glancing at the clock. — It’s already one in the morning, and William still isn’t home. What if something happened?
She tossed and turned in bed for an hour before finally falling asleep.
That night, her husband didn’t come home. Early Saturday morning, Emma woke to a strange scratching at the lock. She got out of bed, approached the door, and listened. Someone was trying to open it.
— Hey, whoever you are, leave. I’ll call the police.
— It’s me. Open the door. Did you change the locks or something?
Emma opened the door, and William stumbled in. His shirt was sloppily buttoned, his tie hung loosely in his pocket, and a clear red lipstick stain marked the once-white collar.
— My God, William. You’re drunk.
Her inebriated husband stared at her.
— Yeah, I’m drunk. So what? Can’t I relax?
— I see how well you relaxed, — Emma said, pointing at the lipstick stain. William yanked her hand away.
— Don’t touch me, woman. I’m tired and want to sleep.
Swaying, William staggered toward the bedroom, brushing against the cot where Eleanor slept. She lifted her head and looked at her drunken son-in-law.
— Oh, Mother-in-law. Sorry.
Ignoring Eleanor’s confusion, William marched to the bedroom, collapsed onto the bed fully clothed, and began snoring loudly.
— Has he been drinking long? — Eleanor asked, her sleepiness gone.
— No. But he goes to the bar with friends every Friday.
— Poor thing. He’s tired from work. He needs to unwind.
— Sure.
— It’ll be fine, dear. He’ll sleep it off, and everything will be okay.
— He’ll sleep it off, alright. But I doubt everything will be okay.
The apartment fell silent again. Emma picked up William’s phone.
— Who were you with?
She had always trusted William, never checking his phone or pockets. But the lipstick stain caught her off guard.
Flipping through a few photos, Emma saw William posing with friends at a bar.
— And who’s this?
In about ten photos, a curvaceous blonde appeared. In one, she sat on William’s lap at the bar. In later shots, she was openly displaying her naked body on crisp hotel sheets.
— Oh my God, — Emma sank onto the edge of the bed.
A few hours later, Eleanor packed her things and left, citing an urgent matter.
William slept nearly all day. Meanwhile, Emma cleaned the apartment, cooked lunch, took Edward for a walk, and started the laundry.
— Hey, Emma! Get me some water and a headache pill. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I’m dying.
Emma silently fulfilled her husband’s request.
— What’s happened to us? How did we get here? — her mind raced.
— What are you staring at? Yeah, we partied at the bar last night. I don’t want to fight. Just get me some food.
— Where’s the loving, cheerful husband I knew? How did he turn into this monster? — Emma’s thoughts wouldn’t stop.
— Stop staring at me, I said. Get some food.
Emma set a plate down, poured some soup, and left the kitchen. The phone rang. William bolted from the table, grabbed it, and nervously pressed it to his ear. The caller was a woman named “Laurie.”
— It’s work, — he lied, shutting the door and speaking in a low voice.
— Sure, — Emma said.
Without another word, Emma pulled her father’s old suitcase from the closet. She quickly packed some of Edward’s and her things, got dressed, put Edward in his stroller, and left the apartment.
— Say hi to Laurie.
— Where are you going?
— I’m staying with Mom for a while. Goodbye.
— Fine. You won’t last without me. You’ll come crawling back tomorrow.
Emma said nothing. She stared at the floor of the descending elevator. A taxi was waiting for her. She went to live with her mother.
Months passed. William made a few attempts to bring his runaway wife back, often resorting to threats and insults when drunk. At first, it hurt deeply. Hope that her unfaithful husband would come to his senses and at least apologize faded after his first three calls.
— Don’t pay attention to him. He’s a fool. When he smartens up, we’ll talk, — her mother said.
— No, Mom. He won’t. And I don’t care anymore. He disgusts me. I don’t want to see or hear from him.
A phone call interrupted Emma’s thoughts.
— It’s for you. Michael.
— Who?
— Michael. James’s son. He’s passing through from Germany.
— Oh, Mom. I’m not in the mood for any Michaels.
— Hey, Emma. It’s been ages since we talked. I’m in town and want to see you.
— Hi. I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to do. Edward needs to be fed.
— Your son? No problem. I’ll wait if needed. But we have to meet. Two o’clock at the café by your place. It’s still open, right? I stopped by there today.
— Go for it. I’ll handle Edward, — her mother whispered.
— Okay. I’ll be there at two.
— He’s a good guy, — Eleanor said, placing the phone back on the table.
— Mom, don’t start. I’m still married, or have you forgotten?
— That’s just paperwork. You don’t need a husband like that. Michael’s different. He was married too, but they divorced. No kids. He’s got money, a job, connections. And James is fond of you.
— I know, Mom. But I’m not looking for a new relationship. I haven’t been on a date in years.
— It’ll be fine, dear. I’ll call Natalie, and she’ll make you look stunning.
Emma was as nervous as a schoolgirl before the date. The whole day felt like a blur. As promised, Eleanor’s friend Natalie worked her magic, fixing Emma’s hair and applying perfect makeup. Feeling revitalized by her new look, Emma headed to the café.
— My God, Emma. You’re… — Michael stared at her.
— What?
— Stunning. You know, Dad and I often talked about you. You’ve grown up so beautifully. A real queen. A dream.
— Oh, please.
— I heard about your rough marriage. I’m sorry.
— You were married too.
— We split. Long story. But you know, I’m so glad to see you. You have no idea. I’m not letting you go this time.
— Well, I’m not going anywhere for now.
A year later, Emma and Edward moved to Germany. Michael convinced her to resume her studies. Between classes, she helped her new husband at work, studied the language, and became a beautiful, happy woman who once again felt loved, needed, and desired.
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