The perfect wife
Good luck with your wife, lad, the doctor said, glancing off into the dim corridor.
Nick Hawthorne shivered at the thought of his wife, Mabel, ever finding out how hed ended up in the infirmary. If she did, the tender care and attention hed have to endure would be endless.
Yet the chatter of the nurses revealed that Mabel already knew every detail.
Nick was the sort of gregarious fellow who had earned a place among the top three salesmen at the firm, his gift of gab slipping easily into conversations with women. He wasnt blessed with striking looks or a fortune, but charisma poured from him in generous streams.
He had swept the shy, sweet orphan Mabel from the market with scarcely a hiccup, and unlike other girls she clung to him with a firm, quiet grip.
Six months after they met, he proposed; she accepted with a bright smile.
They moved into a twobedroom flat that had come down to Mabel from her grandmother, while Nicks tiny oneroom was let out to bring in a few pennies. The flat was a birthday gift from Nicks mother on his eighteenth.
After that, Ill look after myself, declared his mother, Mrs. Thatcher. Ill finally have time for my own life.
Nick rarely visited his mothers house in the neighboring county; he didnt want to strain the eyes of his newly minted stepfather or get in the way of his mothers routine. Now, with a family of his own, he felt a warm pride.
Looks like Mabels got you in a bind, mate! his mates teased. Think youll be a househusband now?
Just keep quiet and be jealous, he retorted, grinning. My wifes perfect youll see for yourselves.
And indeed she was. Mabel ran the household with a calm hand, never raising her voice or fretting over whims. As a landscape designer she earned a respectable sum.
Nick thought her only flaw was that she was too kind. Not just to himshe handed out her generosity like biscuits to everyone she met.
The elderly neighbour, Irene Peterson, seemed to have forgotten how to summon a private nurse, for Mabel was the one who gave her injections and fetched her medicines.
Every stray puppy and kitten that roamed the block was whisked to Mabel, who either adopted them or found them new homes. At work she aided lazy colleagues, and on the street she tossed alms to beggars.
Cant you be less Mabel? Nick would mutter sometimes, irritation curling his mouth. Everyone just rides on you!
Its not everyone whos as lucky as us, she would reply, a hint of reproach in her tone. If help is needed, we give it.
By the fourth year of their marriage, Nick grew irritated that Mabel didnt fancy nightclubs or boisterous pubs. To her, leisure meant rambling through woods, volunteering at the animal shelter, or catching a matinee at the theatre. He had no quarrel with that, but after a long week he preferred the thrum of a bustling bar or a weekend at a tourist resort.
Mabel didnt oppose his choice, yet she rarely joined. One evening they sparred over this again, and the argument drifted to children.
Nick, still in his thirties, balked at the thought. Were not even thirty yet! Why rush?
In a flurry he blurted that he couldnt miss his friend Leos birthday and would meet him at a club later that night. Mabel didnt turn up. She sent a brief text saying she couldnt make it and would explain later.
Whats there to explain? Nick snapped, his temper flaring. Shes playing the martyr again! Shes offended, isnt she? Fine, she can go!
Oi, calm down, brother! Leo, always quick to side with a mate, interjected.
But Nick was a furnace of anger. He downed cocktail after cocktail, flirted with every woman in the club, and eventually left with a new acquaintance, Lila, for her flat.
What followed was a hazy blur. He remembered them laughing in her living room, then drifting to sleep. He woke to shrieks and the acrid scent of smoke. White haze swirled around him; Lila was nowhere to be seen.
Trapped in an unfamiliar flat, he saw no exit and leapt out the thirdfloor window, landing on a lawn, only to lose consciousness. He awoke in a hospital bed a week later, nursing a fractured leg, broken ribs, a concussion, bruises and hematomas.
The injuries are serious but youve been lucky, lad, the doctor said, eyes flicking toward the hallway. Your wife didnt leave your side; shes been hovering over you all day.
Nick turned his head sluggishly and met Mabels weary smile. Hello, she whispered, her voice soft as a lullaby.
She never left his side. She took a leave from work, secured a private ward for him, stayed through the night, and even managed to scurry home during the day to cook him a proper meal.
Nick feared Mabel would discover how hed ended up there, fearing the relentless devotion shed pour on him. Yet the nurses gossip confirmed she knew everything, and the police officer taking his statement nodded in agreement.
Lucky you, lad, the officer said, shaking his head. Another woman would have sent you packing, but she shes got you covered.
He learned that the fire had been started by drunken neighbours of Lila. She awoke first, fled the flat, apparently forgetting the man shed taken in. Only when the fire crew arrived did she mention Nick, but it was too latehed already leapt out the window.
Even the attractive nurses, to whom hed tried his usual charm, gave him cold looks. He cursed himself, unable to rewind time.
Soon he realized Mabel had no intention of abandoning him. She spoke calmly, never blamed him for the mishap, and tended to him with genuine care. He relaxed, remembering that Mabel was, in his mind, a saintly, kind-hearted soul.
His friends seemed to evaporate. Leo stopped dropping by, unnerved by the sight of Nicks gaunt, bandaged face. His mother never visited either.
I suppose youll be fine, then? Someone will look after you, she said over the phone, tone indifferent. Were off on holiday with Fred, cant cancel that. She sent a few pounds to help with the bills, and that was all.
Money gnawed at Nick. The private ward, medications, specialist attentionall cost a fortune, and his savings were nearnil.
Dont worry, Mabel soothed, her voice a steady hum. I set aside some for a baby, but its not urgent. Well sort it later.
He spent a month and a half in the hospital, surviving two operations. Rehabilitation lay ahead, but he already felt steadier.
Mabel came to collect him, planning a romantic dinner, apologising again, and declaring she was ready for a child. He was eager to prove his devotion, willing to do anything for his beloved wife.
When the ambulance pulled up, he wasnt sure where they were headed. Once the doors opened, he saw Mabels familiar smile and the familiar hallway of his own oneroom flat.
I asked the flatshare tenants to move out, had the cleaners tidy up, restocked the fridge, paid the internet, she announced in a calm tone. Ive filed for divorce. I hope you wont stand in my way.
For a moment Nick was speechless, expecting a joke, a laugh, a sudden change of heart. None came.
I begged for forgiveness, he managed, voice cracking. Ill ask a hundred more times! Ill fall to my knees when I can! Please, dont leave me!
Im sorry, but I cant and wont live with you any longer, Mabel replied, pity flickering in her eyes. I dont love you anymore.
Why did you ever bother with me? he shouted, anger bubbling. Were you just pretending to be the sweet lady, throwing dust in peoples eyes?
My grandmother taught me never to abandon anyone in trouble, even those who betray you, Mabel said, her face turning serious. You no longer need my help. From now on, youre on your own.
She turned, closed the door gently, and walked away.
On your own, the words echoed in Nicks mind long after the click of the latch. He thought hed heard them before and survived, but now the dream felt heavier.
He decided he would win her back, stand on his own two feet, find work, and devise a plan.
A month later he learned that Mabel had sold the flat and moved to another town, far from his reach.
The dream faded, the streets of London blending with the hazy corridors of the hospital, leaving Nick alone in a world where love, loss, and the absurdity of chance swirled like smoke in a nighttime club.
