**A Beloved Wife, Not a Dutiful Daughter**
«Emily, choose: either me or your parents!» This time, my husband was firm and unyielding.
«Edward, you know I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. But dont shut out my parents. You called them ‘old’ yourself. Have some compassion…»
«I want nothing to do with them! But if you must visit, go aheadsince youre such a dutiful daughter,» Edward shot me a look of disapproval.
My first husband was a man who had served in Afghanistan. Simon seemed brave and fearlessand he was. A decorated major, a hardened soldier.
Our son, Oliver, was born. My parents adored their son-in-law and grandson.
«Now, Emily, love, your mother and I can rest easy. Simons a good man. Weve done right by youdont disappoint us,» my father never missed a chance to remind me what a prize my husband was.
But Simon paid Oliver little mind. The boy would run to his father, only to be brushed asideSimon was always off fishing, meeting army mates, or simply in no mood.
In time, Oliver stopped seeking his father altogether.
Things got worse. Simon fell into deep depression, and when that happened, it was best to stay away. I grew distant. When Oliver was five, Simondrunk out of his minddressed in his uniform and threatened our son with his service revolver. That was the last straw. I knew his mind had been broken by war. I couldnt risk my sons lifeor my own. We divorced amicably.
My parents poured scorn on me.
«What kind of wife are you? A man like that doesnt come along every day! Youll regret this!»
As it turned out, I never regretted it. Simon became nothing more than a closed chapter. He spent years searching for a wife before marrying a deaf woman.
My second husband came quickly. My work took me to villages, drafting contracts. In one, I met a high-ranking officialEdward Whitmore. Handsome, charming, impeccably dressedhe stole my heart at once. We disagreed that first day, so I returned to his office twice more. A courtship began.
«Emily, join me for dinner. Ill drive you home myself.» Edward kissed my hand gallantly.
Oliver was with my parents, so I agreed. One thing led to another…
Love flared between us, fuelled by passion.
Edward was six years my junior, divorced, with a seven-year-old daughter.
I knew my parents wouldnt approvetoo young, too frivolous, «wet behind the ears.» But I didnt care. I loved Edward like no one before.
«Mum, DadIm getting married. Edward and I want you to meet us for dinner.»
They gaped.
«Dont be absurd, Emily! We thought youd reconcile with Simon. You have a child!»
«Forget Simonhe forgot Oliver long ago. Tomorrow, youll meet my fiancé. Dont mention my ex. It wont go well.»
Edward arrived with gifts and a proposition.
«After the wedding, we should all live together. Youre not getting youngerEmily and I can look after you. Fetching medicine, calling an ambulance… What do you say?»
My father scratched his head.
«Suppose youre right. But where? Were in a tiny flat. Emily has her own placeher ex left it to her.» He shot me a look. «What about you, son? Any property?»
«I dream of a three-storey house. Ill build itmove us all in.» Edward smiled, as if already picturing it.
We married in a grand celebration. Edward whisked me away on a Mediterranean cruise. Wed travel Europe, taking Oliver and his daughter, Sophie. His ex-wife happily sent Sophie along.
Edward treated Oliver as his own. But Sophie? She glared, whispered in her fathers ear, never spoke to me.
Three years later, we moved into our new homea sprawling estate in Edwards hometown. An orchard, a garden, space for everything. My parents had a first-floor bedroom and kitchenno stairs to climb. Olivers room was upstairs»Let the boy run.» Edward and I took the second floor. A summer kitchen, a three-car garageperfection.
Later, Oliver got a motorbike for his twentieth; I got a luxury car for my fortieth; my mother, a spa retreat; my father, a fishing boat.
Yet my family took it all for granted, blind to Edwards generosity. Their constant sniping wore thin. Edward ignored it.
«Emily, I want peace. Let them whisper. My conscience is clear. I provide, I respect them. What more do they want? Their golden boy was Simon. But I cant be him.»
We grew apart under their scorn. They never grasped that love goes both ways.
Time ticked on.
Oliver brought home a girl.
«This is Daisy. Shes moving in.»
«Who is she? Your fiancée? Wife?» I asked warily.
Oliver took her hand and marched upstairs.
Fine. Hes grown. Let her parents worry about her virtuenot me.
But Daisy wasnt shy.
«Emily, we want the second floor. Im pregnant.» She lounged at my table, smoking, sipping my coffee.
She refused to call me «Mrs. Whitmore.»
«Respect your elders, Daisy. If youre unhappy, the doors open.»
She screeched for Oliver. «Shes throwing me outpregnant!»
Oliver shoved me hard. I fell, hit my head, and woke in hospital with a concussion. My own sonraised with lovehad struck me! Over that… creature. (Later, we learned there was no pregnancy.)
Edward, furious, called the police. But I refused to press chargesclaimed Id slipped.
The betrayal festered.
After recovery, I forgave all. Oliver knelt before me.
«Forgive me, Mum. I wasnt myself.»
I kissed his head, wept. Hed learned.
Peace, I thought.
But that night, Edward said, «Did you know Daisy was in our bed while you were gone?»
«What?»
«Woke to her staring at me. She and Oliver had been out. He was dead drunk. She crawled in next to me.»
«And?»
«I threw her out.»
Too much. If I told Oliver, hed deny it. If I confronted Daisy, shed twist it. Id wait.
My parents poisoned Edwards name.
«Emily, hes a womaniser! Throw him out!»
A thousand lies become truth. Life grew unbearable. Why couldnt they be content? Edward and I bickered until he left. For a month, silence.
Then a friend called.
«Emilyjust saw Edward with another woman!»
Fool! Leave a man like that alone, and vultures descend.
I won him back. The «other woman» was Sophienow twenty-five, career-driven, still single.
Edward had thought things over.
«Choose: me or your parents. Or well end in divorce.»
My heart ached for Mum and Dadfrail, stumblingyet they spat venom at Edward. Hed never win them.
We moved out, bought a fixer-upper in the village. Just ten acresbut no judging eyes. Better a humble life in joy than luxury in strife.
My parents cursed me.
«Youre no daughter! Abandoned us! Daisys threatening to send us to a home!»
May your husband rot! Ruined our lives!…
Yet Edward and I live quietly, joyfully, in love. We wed in the village church…
