**The Stag Night**
When Christopher divorced his wife, he vowed never to marry again. After seven years of marriage, hed decided there was nothing good about itjust arguments, nagging, and constant drama.
«Chris, youre being too harsh,» his mate Stephen tried to convince him. «Married life has its perksmeals on the table, a tidy home, someone to care for you.» He grinned like the cat that got the cream, listing the benefits.
«Dunno, mate,» Christopher sighed. «I did most of the cooking and hoovering anyway. And as for being cared formy ex, Katherine, had a right temper on her. Half the time, I didnt know whether to stand my ground or leg it.»
His wife had been impossible to please. Gifts were never good enough»You couldve spent more.» If they went on holiday, shed watch him like a hawk, convinced hed eye up other women, even humiliating him in front of friends.
The final straw came at her friends birthday party. She slapped him for having one too many brandies. He walked out then and there, dead set on ending it.
The divorce was messy. Katherine fought tooth and nail, but in the end, he let her keep the flat and the carcouldnt leave his daughter without. He walked away without a fuss.
Years passed. Christopher got back on his feet, bought a new place and a car, paying off the mortgage with his decent salary. He dated, and some women even brought up settling down, but he wouldnt budge.
«No more marriage. Been there, done that.»
Then, at thirty-eight, he met Daisy. Pure chance, in a café. He and his mates were celebrating Stephens promotion, laughing over drinks, when two women walked in and took the next table. One of them caught his eyedark blue, almost hypnotic under the dim lighting.
«Blimey. Proper drowning pools,» he thought but kept it to himself.
All evening, he stole glances. She noticed but kept looking away whenever their eyes met.
«Chris, youve got it bad for the bird next to us, havent you?» Stephen teased.
«Suppose I have,» Christopher admitted, finally mustering the courage to approach.
«Well, go on then,» Andrew egged him on with a wink.
Christopher stood and walked over.
«Evening. Mind if I introduce myself? Im Christopher.»
«Evening,» they replied in unison. «Daisy,» said the one whod caught his eye. «And Im Emily,» the other added.
«Pleasure,» Christopher beamed. «Mind if I join you?»
«Go on,» Emily said.
They werent drinking wine, just juice. He offered to order a bottle, but Daisy shook her head.
«No, thanks. Were not big on alcohol.»
That night, Christopher drove Daisy homehed stayed sober. Soon, they were seeing each other properly. They clicked instantly, both private about past relationships. Daisy had been married briefly, but it didnt work out.
«Just didnt suit,» she said, shutting the topic down. Christopher didnt presshe wasnt keen on reliving his own failed marriage either.
Daisy, thirty-five, worked as an accountant for a construction firm. Serious but with a hidden passionpainting. She dragged Christopher to galleries, and to his surprise, he loved it. His mates ribbed him, but he stood by her, convinced she had real talent.
One evening, lounging with his tabby, Oliver, it hit him.
«Suppose Ill propose,» he mused aloud, stroking the cat. «Well make it workjust the three of us. You like her, dont you?»
Oliver blinked lazily, unbothered.
Christopher had found him as a scrawny stray, mewing pitifully. Six years later, Oliver was a proper unitmajestic, if a bit lazy. Daisy had called him «too clever for his own goodjust cant be bothered to talk.»
He proposed. She said yes. They planned a quiet registry office do, but friends and family kicked up a fuss.
«Second marriage or tenth, youre not skimping! Being tight-fisted, are you?»
Not wanting to seem stingy, they gave in. The guest list grew, invites sent. Then came the next demanda stag do.
«Chris, you cant skip the stag! Its tradition!»
«Lads, were pushing forty, not twenty. Bit past all that, arent we?»
«Ages got nowt to do with it! Youre saying goodbye to bachelor lifestags mandatory!» Stephen insisted loudest.
The wedding was set for Friday, the stag for Wednesday.
«Gives me time to recover,» Christopher reasoned. «And let the lads cut loose without the missus around.»
He took the week off to prep. Tuesday, he stocked up on booze, then rang a restaurant for platterssushi, seafood, meats.
Wednesday, he set the table just right. Oliver prowled, eyeing the sushi.
«Not for you, mate,» Christopher scolded, shooing him off.
The lads arrived, rowdy and joking.
«Dig in,» Christopher said, popping bottles. «Starting light or going straight for the hard stuff?»
«Not me,» Andrew admitted. «Wifes threat level: divorce if I come home pissed again this month. And Im driving.»
Stephen groaned. «Same. Mother-in-laws landing at 4 AM. Airport run.»
«Bit rich, since you were all stag or bust!» Christopher laughed.
They drank, ate, chatted work, politics, cars.
By ten, they were wrapping up.
«Thats it?» Christopher blinked.
«Mate, weve got jobs. And families.»
Once theyd gone, Christopher slumped at the table. Oliver stared at the leftover prawns.
«Go on, then.»
The cat delicately helped himself.
Christopher dozed off on the sofa, waking to find Oliver sprawled across the table like he owned it.
«Cheeky bugger.»
The stag was tame, but the wedding was a proper knees-up. Marriage to Daisy? No regrets. This time, hed got it right.
