**The Stag Do**
When Chris got divorced from his wife, he swore to himself hed never remarry. After seven years of marriage, he was convinced there was nothing good about married lifejust constant bickering, shouting, and drama.
«Mate, youre being too harsh,» his friend Steve tried to reason with him. «Married lifes got its perksalways fed, looked after, loved,» he grinned like the cat who got the cream, listing the benefits.
«Dunno, Steve. I did most of the cooking, always hooveredthat was my job. And loved? My ex, Kate, loved me so much, half the time I didnt know whether to laugh or cry.»
She was always picking fights. If he bought her gifts, shed complain they werent expensive enough. If they went on holiday, shed watch him like a hawk, accusing him of eyeing up other women, even humiliating him in front of friends.
The final straw was at her friends birthday party when she slapped him for having one too many brandies. He walked out then and there, dead set on divorce.
It was messy. Kate fought him tooth and nailshe took the flat, the car, everything. He didnt contest it; their daughter lived there, after all. He walked away and never looked back.
Time passed. Chris managed to buy a new flat and a car, paying off the mortgage thanks to his decent salary. He dated, but whenever women brought up settling down, he shut it down.
«No more marriage. Been there, done that.»
Everything changed at thirty-eight when he met Daisy. Pure chancea café. He was there with his mates celebrating Steves promotion when two lovely women walked in and sat nearby. One caught his eyedark blue, piercing, almost hypnotic under the soft café lighting.
«Bloody hell,» he thought, «those eyes could drown a man.» He couldnt stop glancing her way, and she noticed, shyly looking down whenever their eyes met.
«Chris, mate, youve got it bad for the girl at the next table, havent you?» Steve teased.
«Guilty,» Chris admitted, deciding to make his move.
«Well, go on then!» Andy nudged him with a wink.
Chris walked over. «Evening. Mind if I introduce myself? Im Chris.»
The women smiled. «Im Daisy,» said the one whod caught his eye. «And Im Zoe,» her friend added.
«Pleasure. Fancy if I join you for a bit?»
«Go on, then,» Zoe agreed.
They werent drinking winejust juice. Chris offered to order a bottle, but Daisy shook her head. «No thanks, were not big on alcohol.»
That evening, Chris drove Daisy homesober, thankfully. Soon, they were inseparable. They just clicked. Daisy had been married briefly, too.
«Didnt work out,» she said simply, and Chris didnt press her, just as he didnt dwell on his own past.
Daisy was thirty-five, no kids, an accountant at a construction firm. Serious but creativeshe loved painting in her spare time, dragging Chris to art galleries. To his surprise, he enjoyed it. His mates ribbed him, but he adored her talent, even if she rarely painted. Theyd go on countryside trips just so she could sketch.
One night, lounging with his cat, Smokey, it hit him. «Might just ask Daisy to marry me,» he mused aloud. «Shes perfect.»
Smokey, a lazy, grey lump of a cat, blinked slowly as if in approval. Chris had rescued him as a kitten years agonow he ruled the flat with quiet dignity. When Daisy met him, she declared, «Smokeys brilliant. Too clever for his own goodjust cant be bothered to talk.»
Chris proposed. Daisy said yes. They planned a quiet registry office do, but friends and family revolted.
«Tightwads! Doesnt matter if its your second weddingyoure not skimping!»
Not wanting to seem stingy, they caved. Guest lists were made, invites sent. Then came the next demand: a stag do.
«Chris, you cant skip the stag! Its tradition!»
«Lads, were nearly fortybit old for all that,» Chris argued.
«Rubbish! Ages got nowt to do with it. You need one last hurrah!» Steve insisted.
The wedding was set for Friday, so they scheduled the stag for Wednesday»Plenty of time to recover,» Chris reasoned.
He stocked up on booze but left the food to a local restaurantsushi, seafood, meats. On the day, he set the table carefully. Smokey, sniffing the salmon, perched hopefully on a chair.
«Not for you, mate,» Chris chided, moving him away.
His mates arrived, loud and laughing. They clinked glasses, but the mood was subdued.
«Im off the sauce,» Andy admitted. «Wifes threat level: nuclear.»
«Same,» Steve sighed. «Mother-in-laws flight lands at 4 AM. Got to fetch her.»
«Steve, you were the one banging on about the stag!» Chris laughed.
«Wait till youve got in-laws,» Andy muttered.
«Mine live in Cornwall,» Chris said cheerfully. «Theyll come for the wedding, then vanish again.»
«Lucky git,» Paul groanedhed lived with his mother-in-law for twenty-five years.
They ate, drank, talked cars and kids, politics and work. By ten, everyone was leaving.
«Thats it?» Chris asked, baffled.
«Mate, weve all got jobs. And families.»
Alone, Chris pushed a plate of prawns toward Smokey, who helped himself daintily. Chris dozed off on the sofa, waking to find the cat sprawled across the table like a furry overlord.
«Cheeky sod,» he chuckled.
The wedding was lively, and married life with Daisy? Better than hed ever dreamed. Second times the charm.
