She had lived for him. And it had been for nothing.
What do you mean youre leaving? And what about twenty years of marriage? And what about me? Eleanor clutched the lapel of her husbands coat so hard that the knuckles on her fingers turned white.
Eleanor, let go. Ive made my decision, Victor said calmly, pulling her hands away from his jacket. Enough of the tantrums. You know theres been nothing between us for a long time.
I dont understand a thing! Just yesterday we were planning a holiday, talking about refitting the bathroom! And now youre packing! Eleanors voice cracked into a shout.
The day before she had indeed been making summer arrangements. Victor had nodded absentmindedly, then, out of the blue, announced, Eleanor, Im going to be with Laura. At first she thought shed misheard, then hoped it was a cruel joke. But Victor was dead serious.
Whos Laura? Eleanor managed to sputter.
A colleague. Weve been seeing each other for six months, Victor replied as if they were discussing a new settop box, not the collapse of a marriage.
Eleanor sank into the armchair, staring at the man she had shared two decades with, barely recognizing him. Where had the shy, gentle, caring Victor vanished? In his place stood a stranger with cold eyes.
That night she lay awake in the kitchen, wrapped in an old dressing gown, replaying every day of their life together, trying to pinpoint the moment when things went wrong. How had she missed his growing chill? How had she not seen the rival appearing?
Now he stood in the hallway with a travel bag, ready to leave her behind, bewildered, stunned, crushed.
Victor, lets talk, Eleanor pleaded, her voice no longer a scream. You cant just toss twenty years away in a heartbeat. Did something happen at work? Do you need some time to think?
Theres nothing to think about, Eleanor, Victor said without looking at her, fiddling with the zip on his bag. I love another woman. Life with you has grown dull. Youre a fine housekeeper, but that isnt enough. Laura understands me; shes exciting.
So Im just a cook and a laundress? Eleanors bitterness spilled over.
I never said that. Dont twist my words, Victor tightened his lips. And lets skip the drama. Ill call a solicitor and well arrange the divorce. Ill leave you the flat, dont worry.
I dont want the flat! I want a family! I want you! she raised her voice again.
Eleanor, stop. My taxi is waiting downstairs.
He snapped the lock on his bag, glanced around to make sure he hadnt forgotten anything, and headed for the door.
Victor! Eleanor lunged after him. If you walk out now, never come back! Hear me? Never!
He turned at the threshold:
Youve always been overly dramatic, Eleanor. Lets keep the theatrics to a minimum. Ill collect the rest of my things next week.
The door slammed. Eleanor leaned against the wall and slowly sank to the floor. The house was empty. No tears, no painjust a deafening void and confusion.
Linda, Eleanors closest friend, arrived the instant she heard the news. She burst into the flat, took in the scene: Eleanor sitting on a chair with a detached stare, photographs scattered, a vase shattered on the carpet.
My dear Eleanor, Linda said, hugging her. Let me make you a cup of tea and you can tell me everything.
While the kettle boiled, Linda tidied up, gathered the broken pieces, fetched a blanket and wrapped Eleanors trembling shoulders.
Hes gone to a younger woman, is that it? Linda asked once Eleanor had steadied herself.
Im not sure, Eleanor shrugged. He said she was a colleague. Some Laura.
Classic, Linda sighed. A silverbearded devil in a newfangled suit.
He looks perfect, Eleanor protested. And that woman isnt even that much younger.
Does it matter? Linda pursed her lips. What matters is that your husband swapped twenty years of a happy marriage for a fling with a coworker.
Maybe its my fault? Eleanors eyes reddened as she looked at Linda. Did I do something wrong? Did I miss something?
Dont blame yourself! Linda cut in. Ive seen how you lived all those years: everything for the family, everything for him. You never breathed without permission. Wasnt it you who gave up a career when he said a woman belongs at home? Wasnt it you who cooked lowfat meals after the doctor warned about cholesterol? Wasnt it you who cancelled a visit to your sister because he wanted new wallpaper in the sitting room?
But thats normal, Eleanor whispered. Im his wife; I must look after him
Exactlymust. Linda shook her head. All life youve spent serving someone: husband, motherinlaw, society. What about yourself? Have you ever served yourself?
Eleanor lowered her gaze. She had never considered it. A pretty girl from a modest background, shed married early to the promising Victor, whose parents, from an affluent academic family, made it clear they didnt regard her as an equal. To prove her worth she strived to be the perfect spouse. She abandoned a music scholarship because her motherinlaw deemed it frivolous, and Victor backed that view. She took a secretarial job at a respectable firm, only to quit when Victor insisted she devote herself entirely to the home.
They never had childrenEleanor suffered a miscarriage in the third month of her first pregnancy, and doctors later told her the odds of carrying a child were slim. Victor was disappointed; hed always wanted a son. He eventually came to terms, and Eleanor tried to fill the emptiness with relentless care.
You know, Ellie, maybe this is for the best, Linda said, breaking the heavy silence. Its time you started living for yourself.
How can you say that? Eleanor snapped. What best are you talking about? My life is over!
Nonsense! Linda retorted. Youre fortytwo, still beautiful. You have everything ahead of you. Look at yourselfyouve dissolved into his shadow. Where is the real Eleanor? The one who sang until her skin tingled, the one who dreamed of travel, the one who wanted to help children in orphanages?
Eleanor fell silent. Linda was right; the real Eleanor lay somewhere in the past. For two decades shed been living a life that wasnt hers.
All right, love, Linda said, standing. Ill stay the night. Tomorrow well figure out what to do next. For now, have a shower and take this, she handed her a tablet. Itll help you sleep.
Morning brought no relief. Eleanor felt shattered. Linda busied herself in the kitchen, humming a jaunty tune.
Good morning, sleepyhead! she chirped, spotting Eleanor. The omelettes almost ready. Sit down, lets have breakfast.
I dont want any, Eleanor shook her head. I cant swallow a bite.
You know what, Linda declared, turning off the stove, lets pack a bag and head to my cottage. The countryside clears the mind, and theres plenty to keep us occupied.
No, thanks, Linda, Eleanor replied wearily. Ill stay. Maybe Victor will change his mind and come back
And youll take him back? After he dumped you for the first woman he saw?
Laura isnt just a passing fancy, Eleanor muttered. He says shes interesting.
So youre boring, then? Linda snapped. Does he even know what an interesting person is? Hes glued to his work, has no friends, his hobbies are the sofa and the telly. You guessed his every wish for twenty years, and now hes bored!
Stop it, Eleanor winced. Victor is educated, reads books, attends lectures
He attends one lecture, Linda noted. Does he ever take you along?
I never asked, Eleanor admitted. Ive always had house duties.
Of course the soup wont stir itself, Linda quipped. And that Laura probably both cooks the soup and goes to those intellectual lectures.
Eleanor sighed. Perhaps Linda was right; perhaps she herself had made Victor lose interest by sinking into domesticity and neglecting selfdevelopment.
Lets go to the cottage, she decided abruptly. Youre right; I need a distraction.
Lindas cottage turned out to be a perfect place for recovery: a modest, cosy cottage surrounded by blooming gardens, the only sounds being birdsong. The peace coaxed Eleanor into contemplation.
From dawn till dusk Linda tended the garden; Eleanor helpedraking, watering, picking berries. The physical labour kept her mind off Victor and his betrayal.
One evening, perched on the veranda with tea made from freshly harvested blackberries, Linda asked:
Do you remember singing at the music school? You had such a voice!
That was then and gone, Eleanor waved her hand.
No, it wasnt, Linda persisted. You buried that talent. Victor was always jealous of your music.
Nonsense, Eleanor replied. He thought singing in clubs was frivolous. He was right; it wasnt a profession.
You could have gone professional, Linda insisted. Your teacher said you had huge potential. Remember Mr. Ivan? He wanted you at the conservatoire.
Why bring that up now?
To remind you that you buried yourself alive for a husband who never appreciated it.
Eleanor reflected. She had once dreamed of a stage, of a musical future. Then Victor arrived and everything changed.
I have an idea, Linda brightened. Lets go to the local community hall. They have live music on weekends, even karaoke. Well shake things up.
Are you mad? Eleanor gasped. Karaoke? Im almost fortythree, a married woman well, formerly married.
Exactly, Linda laughed. Now youre a free woman with choiceseither weep over the man who left or start living anew.
The hall was noisy and lively. Eleanor felt out of place amidst flashing lights, blaring music, and a crowd of youngsters. Yet, with a glass of wine and Lindas encouragement, she began to relax.
And nowkaraoke! Linda shouted when the host appeared.
No, no, I wont, Eleanor protested.
You will, Linda said firmly. No more hiding.
Before she could object, Eleanor found herself on stage, microphone in hand. The opening lines of Ill Never Forget You from the old musical flickered on the screenher old favourite.
She sang tentatively at first, then her voice gathered strength with each note. The audience fell silent, hanging on her every phrase. When she finished, applause erupted.
Brilliant! someone shouted.
She stepped down, legs trembling, when a man in his thirties, wearing jeans and a checkered shirt, approached.
Fantastic! he said. I havent heard a performance like that in ages. Are you a professional singer?
No, Im just a housewife, Eleanor stammered.
I doubt it, the man smiled. Im Michael, director of the local choir.
Eleanor, she offered her hand.
A pleasure, Eleanor. I know this may sound odd, but we have a solo spot open. Would you consider auditioning?
Linda, standing nearby, nudged her friend:
Of course shell! Right, Ellie?
Eleanor hesitated:
I dont know I havent sung in years
But you sang beautifully, Michael replied. Think about it. Heres my card. Ill wait for your call.
Linda could not stop gushing on the way home:
Did you see the look on their faces? You were magnificent! And Michaelwhat a fascinating man.
Stop, Eleanor blushed. Im not looking for another lover.
Why not? Linda shrugged. Youre a free woman.
Im still married, legally.
Legally, Linda snorted. In practice he left you for another woman. You have every right to start a new life.
A new life Eleanor turned the card over in her hand, wondering if she could really reenter the world of music, the world shed once yearned for.
The next morning she felt an unfamiliar flutter. For the first time in days she didnt want to weep. She called Michael and set a meeting.
The choir was amateur but wellrun, rehearsing three times a week in the local community centre. After a second audition, Michael was thrilled and offered her several solo parts.
You have an amazing voice, he said. Its a shame you didnt pursue it professionally.
Life took a different turn, Eleanor replied with a shrug.
Its never too late to change, Michael smiled.
Rehearsals became a breath of fresh air. Eleanor felt herself return to the youthful days when music was her greatest joy. She also enjoyed meeting the diverse choir members, all united by a love of song.
A month passed. She still hadnt signed the divorce papers, hoping Victor might return. She tried calling him; he either didnt answer or spoke coldly. The solicitor had emailed the paperwork, but she hesitated to sign.
One afternoon, after a rehearsal, she opened her front door to find Victor standing there. Her heart hammeredhad he really come back?
Hello, he said. May I come in?
Of course, Eleanor hurriedly opened the door. Come in.
Victor stepped inside, looked around, and seemed surprised.
Did you redecorate? he asked.
No, just moved the furniture, put up new curtains, Eleanor shrugged. She hadnt been idleshed refreshed the interior, cleared out clutter, made space.
It looks different, Victor noted. You havent signed the papers. My solicitor is pressing.
Eleanor felt the world tilt. He wasnt here to reconcile; he was here to hasten the divorce.
I didnt get a chance, she murmured. Ive been busy.
Busy with what? Victor raised an eyebrow. Youre not working.
I sing in a choir, Eleanor replied sharply. Three rehearsals a week, plus performances.
What? he looked stunned. You? In a choir?
Yes, I am. Whats the problem? she began to bristle. You know Ive always loved to sing.
I know, but its just a hobby, not a career.
It matters to me, Eleanor said coldly. I even have solo parts now.
Victor scoffed:
And how long have you been at this?
Almost a month.
Who got you into it?
Linda, Eleanor said, not wanting to go into details. If youre only here for the documents, Ill hand them over to your solicitor.
Actually, I wanted to talk, Victor said unexpectedly. Maybe you could make a cup of tea?
Eleanor headed to the kitchen, heart pounding. Could he have changed his mind? She brewed tea while Victor watched her.
Youve changed. Youve lost weight, havent you? he asked.
A little, she replied, placing the cup before him. What did you want to discuss?
Victor paused, choosing his words.
Things with Laura arent as smooth as I thought. Shes always out, meeting friends, has her own interests. At home its a mess, she doesnt cook every day
Eleanor barely suppressed a smile. The puzzle clicked: Laura wasnt the tidy housewife hed once had.
So what do you want from me? she asked.
Perhaps we could try again? Victor suggested. I havent filed for divorce
And the solicitors papers? he waved his hand. Just a scare tactic. You love me, dont you? Twenty years isnt a joke.
Eleanor stared at him and realised she felt nothingno joy, no pity, not even triumph.
No, Victor, she said calmly. I wont try again.
What? he looked as if hed heard wrong. Youre refusing?
Yes, she replied firmly. Ive learned a lot this month. I lived for you, and you never valued that. You left when you wanted something new, never considering my feelings. Now that its inconvenient, you want to return.
You dont understand! Victor shouted. I made a mistake! I love you!
No, Victor, you dont understand, Eleanor shook her head. You love the comfort I created. You love being served. You never knew, or never wanted to know, the real me.
What do you mean? Victor asked, bewildered. Which real you?
The one who loves to sing. The one who wants to learn, to grow. The one who is curious about the world beyond these walls.
Victor stared at her as if she were mad.
Eleanor, stop. Youre my wife; weve been together twenty years. Yes, I was a fool. But things will be different now. I promise!
Youre right, everything will be different, Eleanor smiled. But not with me. Ill sign the papers and send them to your solicitor. Now I must go to rehearsal.
She rose from the table, ending the conversation.
Youll regret this! Victor called as he walked out. You wont belong in your choir! Youll just be a pretender, and I wont take you back!
Eleanor gave no answer. When the door shut, she stood for a moment, listening to the quiet inside. ItShe stepped out into the cool morning, the lingering notes of her song echoing in her heart as she walked toward a future she finally owned.
