Emma clings to Victors jacket sleeve with such force that the knuckles of her fingers turn white.
Emma, let go, Victor says calmly, pulling her hands away. Ive made up my mind. Stop the tantrums. You know its over between us.
I dont understand anything! Yesterday we were talking about a holiday, about fixing the bathroom, and now youre packing your things! Emmas voice erupts into a shout.
Just yesterday she was planning the summer. Victor nods vaguely, replies incoherently, then suddenly blurts out, Emma, Im leaving for Laura. At first she thinks she misheard. Then she guesses its a joke. But Victor is dead serious.
Whos Laura? Emma manages to sputter.
My colleague. Weve been seeing each other for six months, Victor answers as if theyre discussing a new TV, not the collapse of a marriage.
Emma collapses into the armchair. She looks at the man she has spent twenty years with and no longer recognises him. Where is the shy, gentle, caring Vic she once knew? In his place stands a cold-eyed stranger.
That night she does not close her eyes. She sits in the kitchen, wrapped in an old dressing gown, replaying every day of their life together, searching for the moment when things went wrong. How did she miss that her husband grew distant? How did she fail to notice a rival?
Now Victor stands in the hallway with a travel bag, leaving her alone, stunned, deafened, crushed.
Victor, lets talk, Emma pleads, no longer shouting. You cant just toss twenty years away in an instant. Did something happen at work? Do you need time to think?
Theres nothing to think about, Emma, Victor says without looking at her, fiddling with the zipper on his bag. I love another woman. Im bored with you. You were a good housewife, but thats not enough. Laura understands me, shes interesting.
So Im just a cook and a washerwoman? Emmas bitterness overflows.
I never said that. Dont twist my words, Victor snarls, pulling his lips tight. Anyway, lets skip the drama. Ill call a solicitor and well sort the divorce. Youll keep the flat, dont worry.
I dont want the flat! I want a family! I want you! she raises her voice again.
Emma, enough. Ive got a taxi waiting downstairs.
He clicks the bags lock, glances around to make sure he hasnt forgotten anything, and heads for the door.
Victor! Emma dashes after him. If you walk out now, dont ever come back! Hear that? Never!
He pauses at the threshold.
Youre always too dramatic, Emma. No need for grand speeches. Ill collect the rest of my stuff next week.
The door slams shut. Emma leans against the wall, slides slowly to the floor. The room is empty. No tears, no painjust a deafening void and bewilderment.
Lily, Emmas best friend, bursts in the moment she hears the news. She surveys the scene: Emma sits detached in a chair, photographs scattered, a vase shattered on the floor.
Love, my dear, Lily says, hugging her. Let me make you a cup of tea while you tell me everything.
While the kettle whistles, Lily tidies up, gathers the shards, brings a blanket and wraps Emmas trembling shoulders.
He left for a younger woman, didnt he? Lily asks once Emma steadies herself.
Im not sure, Emma shrugs. He said shes a colleague. Some Laura.
Classic, Lily sighs. Grey beard, devils grin.
Theres no grey at all! Victor looks fine, Emma protests. And that woman she cant be much younger than us.
So what does it matter? Lily retorts. What matters is that your husband swapped twenty years of happy marriage for a fling with a colleague.
Maybe its my fault, Emma says, eyes reddening. Did I do something wrong? Miss something?
Dont blame yourself! Lily cuts in. Ive seen how you lived all these yearsfor the family, for him. You never breathed without permission. Remember giving up your career when he said a woman belongs at home? Remember cooking diet meals after the doctor warned about cholesterol? Remember cancelling a trip to your sister because he wanted new wallpaper?
But thats normal, Emma whispers. Im his wife, I have to care for him.
Exactlyhave to. All your life youve been shouldto husband, motherinlaw, society. To yourself? Have you ever been should to yourself?
Emma looks down. She never thought about that. A pretty girl from a modest background, she married early to the promising Victor from an affluent academic family. His parents made it clear they didnt see her as an equal. To prove herself, Emma tried to be the perfect spouse. She gave up music lessons because her motherinlaw dismissed them as frivolous, and Victor backed her. She took a secretarial job at a respectable firm, then quit when Victor insisted she devote herself entirely to the home.
They never had childrenEmma suffers a miscarriage at three months, and doctors tell her the chances of a successful pregnancy are low. Victor is disappointed; he wanted a son. He eventually accepts it, and Emma fills the void with extra devotion.
Emma, maybe its for the best, Lily says, interrupting the gloom. Its time you start living for you.
What are you talking about? For the best? My life is over!
Nonsense! Youre fortytwo, beautiful, with a whole world ahead. Look at yourselfyouve vanished into him. Wheres the real Emma? The one who sang with goosebumps? The one who dreamed of travel? The one who wanted to help children in care homes?
Emma stays silent. Lily is rightthe real Emma is somewhere in the past. Those twenty years shes spent living someone elses life.
Alright, love, Lily stands. Ill stay over tonight. Tomorrow well figure out what to do next. For now, take a shower and have this, she hands over a pill. Itll help you sleep.
Morning brings no relief. Emma feels shattered. Lily is already bustling in the kitchen, humming while cooking breakfast.
Morning, sleepyhead! Lily chirps, spotting Emma. Omelette is almost ready. Have a seat.
I dont want it, Emma shakes her head. I cant swallow a bite.
How about this, Lily decides, turning off the stove. Lets pack a bag and go to my cottage. Fresh air helps thinking, and theres plenty to keep us busy.
No, thanks, Lily, Emma sighs. Ill stay home. Maybe Victor will change his mind and come back
And youll take him back after he abandons you for a random woman? Lily retorts. Laura isnt a random flinghe says shes interesting.
So Im boring, then? Lily snaps. Hes clueless about interesting people. Hes glued to work, has almost no friends, his hobbies are the sofa and the telly. Youve guessed his every wish for twenty years, and now hes bored!
Enough, Emma grimaces. Victor is educated, reads books, attends lectures
He attends one lecture, Lily notes. Has he ever taken you with him?
I never wanted to, Emma admits weakly. I always had house duties.
Of course the borscht wont cook itself, Lily jokes. And Laura probably makes a perfect borscht while attending smart lectures.
Emma sighs. Perhaps Lily is rightshes responsible for becoming uninteresting to Victor, buried in domestic chores, forgetting personal growth.
Lets go to the cottage, she decides suddenly. Youre right, I need a distraction.
Lilys countryside cottage proves ideal for recovery. A tiny, cosy cottage with a flowerfilled garden, quiet except for birdsong, invites calm and reflection.
From sunrise till sunset Lily tends the garden; Emma helpsweeding, watering, picking berries. The physical labour keeps her mind off Victor and his betrayal.
One evening on the veranda, sipping tea made with freshly picked blackcurrants, Lily asks, Do you remember singing at music school? You had such a voice!
Its in the past, Emma waves it off.
No, its not, Lily insists. You buried that talent. Victor was always jealous of your music.
Its nonsense, Emma replies. He thought singing in clubs was frivolous. He was rightits not a profession.
You could have gone professional, Lily argues. Your teacher said you had huge potential. Remember Mr. Samuel? He wanted to send you to the conservatoire.
What does that have to do with now?
It shows you buried yourself alive for a husband who never appreciated you.
Emma reflects. She once dreamed of the stage, of music. Her future once seemed bright. Then Victor appeared and everything changed.
I have an idea, Lily bursts out. Lets go to the local club this weekend. They have live music, karaoke. Lets shake things up.
Youre mad, Emma protests. Im almost fortythree, a married woman well, I was married.
Exactlywas, Lily retorts. Now youre a free woman with choiceseither sit and weep over a husband who left, or start living anew.
The club is noisy and crowded. Emma feels out of placebright lights, loud music, lots of young people. Gradually, with Lilys encouragement and a glass of wine, she relaxes.
Time for karaoke! Lily shouts as the host steps onto the stage.
No, no, I wont, Emma protests.
You will, Lily insists. Enough hiding.
Before she knows it, Emma stands on stage, microphone in hand. Her heart pounds, palms sweat. The screen flashes the opening line of Ill Never Forget You from a classic ballad she once loved.
She begins hesitantly, softly. With each note her voice gains strength. The room quiets, people listen, breath held. When she finishes, applause erupts.
Bravo! someone shouts.
Emma steps down, legs trembling. A man in his thirties, wearing jeans and a checked shirt, approaches.
Fantastic! he says. I havent heard a performance like that in ages. Are you a professional singer?
No, Im just a housewife, Emma stammers.
I dont believe that, the man says, shaking his head. With a voice like yours, you could be more. Im Michael, I direct the local choir.
Emma, she replies, shaking his hand.
Pleasure, Emma. I know this may sound odd, but we have a soloist spot open. Would you consider trying?
Lily, standing nearby, elbows Emma.
Of course she wants to! Right, Emma?
Emma hesitates. I dont know I havent sung in ages
But you sing beautifully, Michael says. Think about it. Heres my card. Ill await your call.
On the way back Lily cant stop gushing.
Did you see the looks they gave you? You were magnificent! And Michaelwhat a fascinating man.
Stop, Emma blushes. Im not looking for another lover.
Why not? Lily shrugs. Youre single now, officially.
Formally, Lily scoffs. But in reality Victor dumped you for another woman. You have every right to start a new life.
A new life Emma turns the card over. Could she really join a choir, do what she once dreamed of?
The next morning she feels a strange excitement. For the first time in days she doesnt want to cry. She calls Michael and arranges a meeting.
The choir is amateur but talented. They rehearse three times a week at the community centre. Michael, after hearing Emma again, is thrilled and offers her several solo parts.
You have an amazing voice, he says. Its a pity you didnt become a professional singer.
Life went another way, Emma replies.
Its never too late to change, Michael smiles.
Rehearsals become a breath of fresh air. Emma feels like shes returned to youth, when music was her joy. She also enjoys meeting new peoplechoir members of all ages, united by song.
A month passes. Emma still hasnt signed the divorce papers; she hopes Victor will come around. She tries calling him, but he either doesnt answer or speaks coldly. The solicitor has emailed the paperwork, but she delays signing.
One day, after a rehearsal, Victor appears at her door. Her heart quickenshas he returned?
Hey, he says. Can I come in?
Sure, Emma replies, opening the door quickly. Come in.
Victor looks around. Did you renovate?
No, just moved some furniture, put up new curtains, Emma says. Shes been busyrearranging, discarding clutter, opening space.
It looks different, Victor remarks. You havent signed the papers. My solicitor is pressing.
Emma feels the world tilt. He isnt back; hes here to push the divorce.
I havent had time, she stammers. Ive been busy.
Busy doing what? Victor asks, eyebrows raised. You dont work.
I sing in a choir, Emma says defiantly. Three rehearsals a week, plus performances.
What? Victor looks stunned. You? In a choir?
Yes, I am. Whats the problem? she snaps, anger rising. You know Ive always loved singing.
I know, but thats not serious. Just a hobby.
It matters to me, Emma replies coolly. I even have solo parts now.
Victor scoffs. Since when?
Almost a month.
How did you end up there?
Lily helped, Emma says, not wanting to explain further. If youre only here for the documents, I wont keep you. Ill sign and send them to your solicitor.
Actually, I wanted to talk, Victor says suddenly. Maybe you could make coffee?
Emma heads to the kitchen, heart hammering. Could he have changed his mind? She boils water while Victor watches.
Youve changed. Lost weight, perhaps? he asks.
A bit, she replies, placing the cup on the table. What did you want to talk about?
Victor hesitates, then says, Things with Laura arent great. Shes always out with friends, has her own interests. At home the place is messy, she doesnt cook every day
Emma cant help a small smile. So thats why. Laura isnt the tidy housewife she imagined.
What do you want from me? she asks.
Maybe we could try again? I havent filed for divorce he suggests.
And the solicitors papers?
That was just to scare you, he waves his hand. Emma, you love me. Twenty years isnt a joke.
Emma looks at Victor and suddenly feels nothingno joy, no relief, no triumph. Nothing.
No, Victor, she says calmly. I wont try again.
What? Youre refusing? he asks, sounding as if hes misheard.
Yes, she answers firmly. Ive learned a lot this month. I lived for you, and you never valued it. You left when you wanted something new, never considering my feelings. Now that its inconvenient, you try to return.
You dont understand! Victor exclaims. I was wrong! I love you!
No, Victor, you dont understand, Emma shakes her head. You love the comfort I provided. You love being served. You never knew the real me, and you never wanted to.
What are you talking about? The real me?
The me who loves to sing. The me who wants to learn and grow. The me who is curious about the world beyond this flat.
Victor looks at her as if shes mad.
Emma, stop. Youre my wife, weve been together twenty years. Yes, I acted like a fool. But now everything will be different. I promise!
Yes, everything will be different, Emma smiles. But not with you. Ill sign the papers and send them to your solicitor. Now I have to get to rehearsal.
She rises from the table, ending the conversation.
Youll regret this! Victor shouts as he heads for the door. You wont need your choir! Youll just be a singer for show and then come back. I wont take you back!
Emma says nothing. When the door closes, she stands for a moment, listening to the quiet inside. It feels light and calm. She walks to the mirror, fixes her hair, touches up her lips, and smiles at her reflection.
Lived for him and it was pointless, she thinks, and heads out to rehearsal, where new songs and new friends await. Perhaps a new love, tooMichael has been showing a clear interest lately. But that, she knows, is a story for another day.
