“LIFE IN ORDER”
“Lydia, I forbid you to speak to your sister and her family! They have their life, we have ours. Did you call Natasha again? Complaining about me? I warned you. Dont blame me if something happens,” Bogdan gripped my shoulder painfully.
As usual in these situations, I silently retreated to the kitchen, bitter tears welling up. No, I never complained to my sister about my life. We just talked. We had elderly parentsthere was always something to discuss. But Bogdan hated it. He despised my sister Natasha. Her home was peaceful and comfortable, unlike ours.
When I married Bogdan, I was the happiest girl alive. He swept me up in a whirlwind of passion. His height didnt bother meBogdan was a head shorter than me. I barely noticed his mother swaying unsteadily at our wedding, either. Later, I learned she was a hardened alcoholic.
Blinded by love, I ignored the red flags. But after a year of marriage, doubts crept in. Bogdan drank heavily, stumbling home wasted. Then came the affairs. I worked as a nursehardly a fortunewhile Bogdan spent his days in pubs with his mates.
He had no intention of providing for me. Once, I dreamed of children. Now, I contented myself with our pedigree cat. The thought of raising a child with an alcoholic? No thanks. Yet, somehow, I still loved him.
“Youre such a fool, Lydia! Men flock around you, and youre stuck on that little drunkard! What do you even see in him? Walking around with bruises under layers of concealer. Dump him before he kills you!” That was my best friendand coworkerlaying it out plainly.
Bogdan often lashed out without reason. Once, he beat me so badly I couldnt work. He even locked me in the flat and took the key.
After that, I was terrified of him. My heart raced every time his key turned in the lock. I thought he resented mefor not giving him a child, for being a bad wife, for whatever. So I endured the blows, the insults, the cruelty. Why did I still love him?
His mother, witchlike, used to whisper: “Lydia, obey your husband. Love him with your whole heart. Forget your family and friendstheyll ruin you.” So I did. Cut off my friends, avoided my sister, surrendered. Bogdan owned me.
I lived for those moments when hed beg forgiveness, kneeling, kissing my feet. The reconciliations were intoxicatingrose petals on the bed, sweet words. Never mind that hed stolen those roses from a neighbours garden. His drunkard wife grew them; he sold them cheap to other drunks. Wives swooned, forgave.
Id have stayed forever, patching up my shattered fantasy. But fate intervened.
“Let Bogdan go. I have his son. Youre barren. Useless.” A stranger demanded I step aside for her childs sake.
“I dont believe you. Get out,” I snapped.
Bogdan denied itbut when I demanded he swear the boy wasnt his, his silence said everything.
“Lydia, Ive never seen you happy. Problems?” That was Dr. Harold, our hospitals chief physician. I never thought he noticed me.
“Everythings fine,” I mumbled.
“Good. When lifes in order, its beautiful,” he said cryptically.
Dr. Harold was divorcedrumour had it his wife cheated. Forty-two, balding, bespectacled. But up close, his scentsome expensive colognemade my knees weak. Id hurry away, flustered.
His words haunted me. “Everythings in order.” Mine was chaos. Time doesnt pause while you figure things out.
So I left Bogdan. Moved back with my parents.
“Lydia, what happened? Did he throw you out?” Mum asked.
“No. Ill explain later.” Shame kept me silent.
Bogdans mother called, screaming curses. But I stood tall, breathing freely for the first time. Thank you, Dr. Harold.
Bogdan raged, threatened, stalked me. He didnt realise his power over me was gone.
“Bogdan, focus on your son. He needs you. Ive turned the page. Goodbye.” Calm. Final.
I reconnected with Natasha, my parents. Became myself againnot someones puppet.
“Lydia, youre glowing!” my friend gasped.
Then Dr. Harold proposed.
“Lydia, marry me. You wont regret it. One rulecall me Harold. Save Dr. Wright for work.”
“Do you even love me?” I asked.
“Ah, forgive me. Women need words, dont they? I suppose I do. Though I prefer actions.” He kissed my hand.
“Ill marry you. I think I could love you too.” Joy overwhelmed me.
Ten years flew by.
Harold proved his love dailyno grand gestures, just steady care. He never blamed me when we couldnt have children.
“Lydia, maybe its just us two. And youre enough.”
His daughter gave us a granddaughterour little Sophie. She became our world.
As for Bogdan? He drank himself to an early grave. His mother glares at me in the market sometimes, but her hatred doesnt touch me. Pitys all I feel.
Harold and I? Lifes in order. And its beautiful.
