Do you still need me? Max pleaded, his voice cracking like a cheap violin. We tried to build a life together, but it fell apart. Why keep torturing each other? Lets just get a divorce.
Not a chance! he sneered, a crooked grin on his face. Youre my wife, Im your husband, were a family. Are you having a bad day, or have you simply fallen out of love? Got a new lover? Answer when I ask!
—
Poppy perched on the edge of the sofa, nervously tugging at the corner of a blanket. After yet another blowup with Max, she felt the urge to dissolve into thin air and vanish from his life forever. She could, of course, file for divorce, but she lacked the gumption to press the papers. Two years of marriage now seemed a nightmarish slog, especially the last six months, during which Max had transformed into a petty, domestic king who invented fresh reasons to nag every single day.
The mornings drama began with something as harmless as a new face cream.
Spending money on nonsense again? Max barked as she trudged home with a parcel.
Poppy tried to explain, but Max was deaf to anything that didnt serve his narrative.
Do you even think about us, or just yourself, dear? he snarled. A cream? You should be buying something useful, like a contribution to my parents mortgage.
Max, why do you jump straight to the gallows? Poppy retorted. I work, I have my own earnings, and I always help your folks. You know that.
Help? Youre sending them pennies! They need real support, not your miserly gifts. Youre selfish, Poppy. All you do is splash your wages on facial lotions and trinkets!
His voice boomed, his eyes crackled. Poppy burst into tears. Max slammed the door, leaving her alone with her sobs and a crushing sense of helplessness. He always did the same routinepush until hed had his fill, then disappear.
—
Poppy remembered how it all began. Max had once seemed flawless: attentive, caring, loving. Slowly something shifted, or perhaps shed never seen the true Max at all.
That evening Max trudged back. Poppy was nursing a cup of tea in the kitchen.
Crying again? he asked, not looking up.
No you just hurt me
I? Youre the one at fault. Think before you act.
What am I doing wrong? she whispered.
Everything! You dont even try. Im exhausted from work, and you? You spend half the day tapping away at a keyboard, the other half lounging at home!
I work too, and not less than you, she snapped, then instantly regretted it.
Whats your job? Pocketchange wages! Im the breadwinner. You should be grateful, Poppy. Ive never heard a thankyou from you, even though Ive earned it!
I appreciate you, Max but it doesnt give you licence to bark at me.
How else am I supposed to talk to you? Youre forever dissatisfied, always crying, turning me into a monster in your mind!
Max youre constantly unhappy. Im terrified to speak, to buy anything, even to relax after lunch. If you find out, youll scream straight away! My nerves arent steel; I cant control myself any longer
Stop whining! You love to play the victim. It makes me sick!
His disgust was so palpable Poppy felt a physical sting.
I dont get whats happening, she murmured, why are you like this?
Just behave, dont annoy me, and everything will be fine.
She stared at his eyesno warmth, no love, only irritation.
Maybe we should see a counsellor? she suggested timidly.
A counsellor? You need one, youre the crazy one, Max snapped. You make problems out of thin air.
Those words were the final push. Max wolfed down a quick bite, flopped onto the telly, while Poppy dug out an old notebook and began sketching an escape plan. Every detail had to be ironed out.
—
The next day Poppy left the flat earlier than usual. She slipped into a café, hoping a quiet corner would help her sort her thoughts. Over a steaming latte she opened her notebook and scribbled:
Step one: Find parttime work. Need more cash than now.
Step two: Rent a small flat or a room.
Step three: Pack belongings.
Step four
Poppy? a familiar voice called. She looked up to see her former schoolmate, Beth.
Beth! Fancy seeing you here!
Its been ages. What are you up to? Working around here?
No, just needed a spot to think, Poppy replied evasively.
You look off. Something wrong? Feeling under the weather?
Poppy hadnt heard a caring word in forever. She hadnt complained to her parents; she didnt want to burden them, and Max had been steering everyone away. The floodgates opened.
Beth, Im in a terrible spot. Max is driving me mad, constantly criticising and humiliating me. I cant take it any longer. Im scared he might turn violent during our fights.
Beth listened intently, not interrupting.
I want to leave him, really want to, Beth! But Im terrified. I dont know where to start. How do I survive after that?
Run, Poppy! Dont worry, I wont let you fend for yourself. Come stay with me for a bit. Do you remember my address? Also, there are free counselling services for women dealing with abusive partners.
I didnt know about those, Poppy admitted.
Now you do. And rememberbelieve in yourself. Youre strong; youll get through this.
Later, after work, they met again. Two hours of chatting left Poppy feeling like a brandnew person.
—
That night, when she trudged back home, Max was already in his favourite armchair, glued to the telly.
Whereve you been? he asked without turning.
Out for a walk, she answered.
Youve been out a lot lately. Got a lover?
A cold shiver ran down her spine.
What are you on about? she snapped.
Nothing. I wouldnt be surprised if you were cheating. Youre quite the flirt.
Max, enough, she sighed, exhausted. I dont want to hear this any more.
What do you want to hear? Compliments? Youll get none.
Poppy drew a deep breath, steadying herself.
Max, we need to talk.
About what? My infidelities?
No, about us. About our marriage.
What do you want to say?
I want a divorce.
Maxs eyes widened.
What did you just say?
I said I want a divorce. I cant live like this any longer. You constantly put me down, criticize me. Im miserable next to you.
Youve gone mad! Divorce? Who will you be without me? Nobody! You should be grateful Im still here!
I owe nobody anything. I just want to be happy.
Happy? You think youll be happy without me? Youre wrong. Nobody will ever want you. Understand?
Poppy stayed silent. Shed made her choice.
Im leaving tomorrow, she said calmly.
Where will you go? Youre broke!
Thats none of your business. Ill manage.
I wont let you go! Ill find you and make you regret ever being born! Youre a shameless witch! I gave you everything, I raised you, and you
She didnt answer. She turned and headed for the bedroom to gather her things.
Max spent the night on the sofa. Poppy lay awake, staring at the ceiling, thoughts spiralling. She feared the future, feared being alone, feared never finding happiness again. Most of all, she feared staying with Max.
At dawn she rose, washed up, dressed, and drifted into the kitchen. Max was already sipping coffee.
Youre not going anywhere, he growled. Dont even think about running while Im at work!
Ive already decided, Poppy said.
I wont let you!
Enough, Max
You dont understand what Im saying!
Max lunged at her. Poppy recoiled.
Dont come near me, she pleaded. Max, step back!
He shoved her into the wall. Her head battered, she hit the floor. His fist came down. Poppy shut her eyes, bracing for the worst.
—
Neighbors, hearing her shrieks at the early hour, called the police. Officers arrived, pulled her to safety and rushed her to the hospital. After discharge, Poppy promptly filed for divorce. Her domestic saga finally crumbled, leaving her free to start anewpreferably with far fewer screaming husbands.
