«Sorry about my little cow! She’s at it againstuffing herself silly!» Arseny’s voice, usually smooth as honey, cracked through the festive air like a whip, leaving a sting in the silence. Every guest flinched.
Anna froze, her fork mid-air, her delicate frame turning to stone under the weight of humiliation. The slice of roast beef balanced on her fork never reached the crystal plate, suspended in disbelief. She sat there, fine as lace, her husbands cruel words wrapping around her like barbed wire. The room prickled with starescurious, pitying, uncomfortable. Her body felt foreign, her heart lodged in her throat.
Maxwell, Arsenys oldest friend, choked on his champagne. The golden bubbles fizzed angrily in his glass, as if sharing his outrage. His wife, Veronica, gaped, her perfect lips forming a silent «O.» The grand dining table, groaning under dishes, was suddenly drowned in a thick, cloying silence. Even the rustle of a napkin felt treasonous.
«Arseny, what the hell?» Maxwells voice was hoarse.
«What? Truth hurts now, does it?» Arseny leaned back in his ornate chair, smug. His gaze swept the room, hunting for approval. «My silly goose here cant help herself. Embarrassing, really. Cooks like shes feeding an army, not guests.»
Anna burnednot with shame, but with something fiercer. Bitter tears welled up, but she swallowed them, a skill honed over three years of marriage. At first, shed cried into pillows. Then, in the bath. Eventually, the tears dried up. What was the point? They only fed his cruelty.
«Come on, mate,» muttered Stephen from across the table, trying to salvage the evening. «Annas lovely. A proper English rose.»
«Lovely?» Arseny snorted, his laugh jagged as broken glass. «Ever seen her without all that makeup? Morning lights downright cruel. Sometimes I wake up and thinkbloody hell, whats this next to me?»
Someone stifled a nervous chuckle but choked it under Veronicas glare. The others studied their plates like archaeologists deciphering gravy stains.
Then Anna stood. Slow, dreamlike, as if lifting an impossible weight.
«Just the loo,» she whispered, vanishing before anyone could protest, trailing shattered dignity behind her.
«Oho, wounded pride!» Arseny crowed, waving a hand. «Shell be back, lips puckered, silent till dawn. Women, eh? Keep em too soft, and they rot like old fruit.»
Maxwell studied his friendfifteen years of shared historyand didnt recognize the man. Arseny had been magnetic once, quick with a joke, generous. When hed married Anna, everyone cheered: her, porcelain-pretty with doe eyes; him, golden and sure. A fairy-tale match.
But cracks had spread, silent as fault lines. First came the «jokes»»my daft mare,» «clumsy pup.» Then the barbs sharpened.
«Look, lads, my piglets at the dessert again!» hed announce in restaurants.
«Forgive the slop, my half-dead mouse cant cook!» hed say, presenting meals Anna spent hours on.
Veronica nudged Maxwell. «Stop him. This is vile.»
He rose. «Need air.»
He found Anna not in the bathroom, but in the marble-floored powder room, gripping the sink like a lifeline. Silent sobs shook her. Mascara streaked her cheeks; lipstick smudged. She looked broken. Exactly how Arseny wanted her.
«Anna?» His voice was soft.
She startled, scrubbing her face. «Im fine. Just washing up.»
«How long will you take this?» Anger roughened his words.
«And go where?» Her eyes were hollow. «This house? His. Cars? His. Even this stupid jumperhis gift. Im a primary teacher, Maxwell. My salarys a joke. Parents live hand-to-mouth in Yorkshire. Go back? Mumd die of shame.»
«Shame? Youve done nothing wrong!»
«To them, I have!» Her whisper was raw. «They braggedtheir girl married a rich Londoner! Now what? That my golden husband calls me a cow in public?»
«Was he always like this?»
She shook her head. «First year? Fairy tales. Flowers, gifts, carrying me upstairs. Then the cracks. Burns the roast. Dresses like a milkmaid. Now? Now he doesnt see me. Weeks of silence, then explosionsa cup out of place, a towel hung wrong. Says Im nothing. That he keeps me out of pity.»
«Anna, thats bollocks. Youre brilliant, kind»
«I dont know who I am anymore,» she cut in. «I look in the mirror and see what he says: stupid, fat, ugly. Maybe hes right.»
From the dining room, Arsenys laugh detonated. «Get thisshe lies in bed like a plank! Like shes waiting for divine intervention!»
Anna went pale. Maxwells fists clenched. «Enough. Grab your coat.»
«Where?»
«Anywhere. Your parents. Us. A hotel.»
«He wont let me.»
«Not your choice. His.»
Back in the dining room, Arseny, wine-flushed, held court. «Last week, she lost her glasses for an hourthey were on her head!»
«Were leaving,» Maxwell said.
«Like hell!» Arsenys grin faltered. «Anna, sit down.»
She stepped forward automatically, but Maxwell caught her elbow. «Were going.»
«Shes my wife!»
«Wife. Not property.»
Arseny surged up, fury twisting his face. «Anna, sit the fuck down!» His shout rattled the chandelier.
She trembledthen Veronica wrapped an arm around her. «Youre staying with us tonight.»
«Shes not leaving!»
«Yes,» Anna said, quiet but clear. «I am. Im leaving you, Arseny.»
«You? With what? Youve got nothing!»
«Myself. Thats enough.»
«Whod want you, you fat, plain cow? I kept you out of pity!»
«Thank you,» she said, oddly calm. «For saying it aloud.»
She turned to leave.
«Wait! Over a few jokes?»
«Over years of them. Im tired.»
«But I love you!»
«No. You love power. Its not the same.»
«What, off to moo with cows in Yorkshire?»
«Yes. Theyll respect me more than you ever did.»
She buttoned her coat, each fastening a lock on the past.
«Anna, dont be daft!» He grabbed her sleeve.
«Let go. You wont change. Goodbye.»
She walked out. Maxwell and Veronica followed. Arseny stood alone in the empty flat.
He forced a laugh for the guests. «Shell be back. They always are.»
But Anna didnt return. Not the next day. Not in a month.
He called. Begged. Sent roses. Waited outside her school. She passed him like a ghost. After three months, she filed for divorce. First, she stayed with Maxwell and Veronica. Then a tiny flat with a leaky ceilingbut hers. A place no one called her a cow.
«How are you?» Maxwell asked, six months later.
«Learning,» she smiled. «To look in mirrors and not see his words. Its hard. But Im winning.»
«Arseny asks about you.»
«Dont tell me.»
«They say hes changed.»
«Maybe. So have I. And Im not going back.»
Her smile was real nowquiet, unshaken.
Arseny stayed alone. With his «jokes» that amused no one. His belief that cruelty was love. Only then did he understand: the woman hed called a fool had a lionesss strength. No woman mirrors a man who sees only her shadow.
Anna? She rebuilt. In time. Learned to breathe, to live, to loveherself, and life. Proved even from scorns wreckage, you can piece together happiness.
