Lets Get Married
It was a day off, the perfect chance to linger in bed a little longer. No one was around to make breakfast, and she had no plans for the day. After a while, Eleanor got up, showered, and drank a cup of coffee. But what next? How to pass the time? She had friends, but they were busy with husbands and children. Visit her parents? Her mother would just replay the same old tunehow shed made a terrible mistake.
A creeping melancholy settled in. Deep down, Eleanor knew shed been wrong to divorce, but it was too late to put out the fire once the house had burned down. Truth be told, Victor hadnt been such a bad husband. He didnt drink, didnt cheat, and wasnt picky about food. She could have served him anything, and hed eat it without noticinghis mind was always on his computer.
He worked late into the night, slept until noon, and dragging him out of the house was a chore. Hed yawn in company, doze off at the cinema, and on walks, hed only think of getting back to his screen. When he went to bed, Eleanor was just waking for work. And when they did share a bed, he moved through it like a sprinter. In three years of marriage, shed never once been pregnant, though neither had any medical issues.
The lack of a child wasnt the only reason she left. She was tired of talking to the curve of his back. She saw more of his shoulders than his face. How does one live with a mans back? She might as well have got a catfed it, cleaned up after it, and instead of Victors grunts, shed hear purring. At least a cat would show more affection.
But to her mother, being married meant status. A divorced woman raised eyebrows.
“A million women would envy you,” her grandmother had scolded. “And youre still not happy. What more do you want?”
No one understoodnot even her friends, who had normal husbands. Men who worked normal hours, slept with their wives, and had no trouble fathering children. They argued, made up, got jealous, scolded their men for drinking too much, then nursed them with pickle brine the next morning.
She and Victor had been in the same class since school, known each other eleven years. Hed been a bookish sort, always reading. By sixth form, he was obsessed with computers. Eleanor and the other girls had laughed at the awkward boy in glasses. When he talked tech with the lads, she might as well have been listening to a foreign language.
Years after school, they bumped into each other on the street. Victor had grown into a decent-looking man, swapped glasses for contacts, and knew enough to hold a decent conversation. And Eleanor was good at listening. They started dating. Three weeks later, he proposedclumsily, matter-of-factly.
“Listen, why are we acting like teenagers? Lets get married.”
“Alright then,” shed laughed.
“Mum, hes clever, interesting,” shed said when she broke the news.
“But do you love him?” her mother had asked.
Eleanor had been surprised. Theyd known each other forever, he was good companylove? They never spoke of it. But if a man proposed, surely he loved her. Didnt he? Their marriage felt more like friendship, except friends didnt share a bed.
Her mother had never liked Victor, was shocked by the match. But the news of the divorce hit harder.
“Have you lost your mind? Doesnt drink, stays home, earns a livingand you want to leave him? Where will you find another like that? Couldve done worse. Shouldnt have married in the first place. Spoilt, thats what you are. Shouldve had a baby, then you wouldnt be so restless. Suppose your father and Ill never see grandchildren now…”
Eleanor stayed quiet. Shed have had a child in a heartbeat, if only… Always “if only.”
Victor had been genuinely baffled when she asked for the divorce. But he didnt arguejust packed his things and left for his mothers. His mum rang at once, spewing venom about Eleanor being flighty and stupid. Eleanor hung up before she finished.
The divorce was quickno children, and she handed over the computer without a second thought. At first, she sighed in relief. Then autumn came, and the walls of the house seemed to close in. Ahead lay a long, lonely winter. She missed Victor. At least hed been a living, breathing presence. But what good was regret?
Her mother kept calling, trying to set her up with someone. Eleanor always refused.
She wasnt the only one. Plenty divorced, mourned a while, then met someone new, and life rolled on, happier than before. But how was she to meet anyone if she never left the house?
One day, a friend signed her up for a dating site, made her pose for the camera, forced a sultry smileas if she knew what that looked like. Back then, shed thought it a joke, a way to make Victor jealous.
Now, curled on the sofa with her laptop, she logged in out of sheer curiosity. So many men wanting to meethandsome, plain, young, old, take your pick. She skimmed the womens profiles. Each claimed to be a perfect housewifesewing, cooking like a chef, with a flat and a glamorous job, just lacking love.
Eleanor had no such talents. Couldnt sew, didnt do sports. She agonised over what to write until she rememberedVictor had liked how she listened. Men loved to talk, to spin yarns, and loved even more when someone listened. So she wrote: “Good listener.”
Soon, messages poured in. All from handsome men. Why were they even on here? Doubtful they struggled for female attention. But onestubble, piercing gazecaught her eye.
After an hour of lively chat, he suggested meeting.
“Maybe we shouldnt rush,” she typed cautiously.
“Why wait? Better to know straight off,” Daniel replied.
(Probably not his real name, nor the photo.) His logic seemed sound, and it wasnt far to travel.
“How about today? Or busy?” he asked. She wasnt. “One hour, the Enchanted Café. See you.”
She rushed to her wardrobe, then stopped. Let him see her as she was. She pulled on jeans and a fitted jumper that showed her figure to advantage. No kids had ruined that yet. A touch of eyeliner, hair downshe liked what she saw in the mirror.
He was waiting outside when she arrived. She recognised him at oncehis photo was real. The café was quiet. They took a window seat. He ordered coffee; she declined cake.
Daniel studied her openly. His gaze prickled her skin like a draft.
“Disappointed?” she asked.
“No. Thought youd be older.”
“You prefer pensioners, like some ageing rock star?” she quipped.
He laugheda proper laugh, not the stifled chuckles or guffaws most men managed. “Actually, hes not bad,” she thought, dropping her eyes, sensing hed guessed.
He talked about himself. Nothing extraordinary. But the more she listened, the more she liked him. A touch vain, but who wasnt? She kept her own story brief: job, divorced…
“The interesting bits are still to come,” she said mysteriously.
He laughed again.
Definitely liked him.
“More coffee?” he asked. “Or my hotel?”
“Where?” She knew exactly.
“Were free, grown, both experienced. Sooner or later, wed end up in bed. Why wait? Unless youre scared?”
“Hes testing me,” she realised. “Seeing how far Ill go to snag a husband.”
“Alright,” she said.
In the hotel room, Daniel sat on the beds edge. Eleanor stayed standing, coat still on.
He eyed her, amused.
“Planning to keep it on?”
“Im not sure Im ready to just…” She trailed off, suddenly desperate to leave.
“Then why come?” No irritation in his voice.
“Dunno.” She shrugged. “Curiosity. Thought you were joking.”
“Fair. Wont push. Ill take you home.” He stood. They were close now. She felt awkward.
“Youve paid for the room,” she said.
“So we stay?” He smirked.
“Hes playing with me,” she realised. She was drawn to himhadnt felt this in years. But shame prickled. She wasnt that sort of woman.
“Its our first meetwhat if Im ill, or you?” she mumbled, hearing how silly it sounded.
He laughed. His nearness, his gaze, sent shivers down her spine.
“Another time,” she pleaded, hating how pathetic she sounded.
He drove her home without asking for her number.
“Arrogant git. And I acted like a schoolgirl,” she grumbled later.
Daniel didnt message.
