THE SECOND WIFE
I was certain my former husband would soon flee from that woman. Ella was not his sorttactless in manner, flighty, a reckless adventurer. She was six years older than Victor.
To be fair, Ella was pretty, always dressed with taste. She knew how to drape herself in mystique, to appear enigmatic. But the moment she spoke, the illusion vanished. Victor, my ex-husband, was her oppositegentle, caring, serene. You might ask why we divorced if he was such a lamb. The fault was mine. I confess
When Victor and I parted, he threw himself into excess. First, he dabbled in romance with a colleague, Agnes, who had long set her cap at him, dreaming night and day of becoming his wife. Agnes had a young son in need of a father, and she was eager to be everything to Victor. She lavished him with carecooked his meals, pressed his shirts to perfection, all but tied his scarf for him before he stepped outside. But Victor wanted a wife, not a mother. The office affair lasted barely three months before he escaped Agness smothering devotion.
Then my dearest friendnow formerOlivia caught his eye. She had always fancied him, and Victor imagined I never guessed his secret longing. Free of husbands and children, Olivia was ravenous for love. The moment she sensed the crack in our marriage, she became his shoulder to cry on. For a year, Victor waverednow with Olivia, now back to the embers of home. His wages flowed to her, and soon it seemed a wedding was imminent.
Then Ella appeared out of nowhere. They met through mutual friends, who insisted they were perfect for each otherboth lonely, both with children. Why not love and live together? Victor confessed about Olivia. “A fiancée isnt a wife,” Ella declared. “She can be un-fiancéed!”
Olivia was forced aside. Ella dragged Victor to the registry office, moved into his flat with her daughter, Irene. By then, Victor and I had sold our shared home. Irene was fourteen thena girl who frayed her mothers nerves, constantly running off, too independent by half.
Once wed, Ella suggested Victors mother downsize from her two-bedroom flat to a one-bedder. “At your age, the cleaning must be a trial,” she said. Victors mother obeyed without complaint, if only for his peace. With the leftover money, Ella renovated Victors flat and registered herself and Irene there.
Ella was always in some scrapea stolen fur coat, a till shortfall, rudeness to a wealthy customer. The shop owner endured her excuses as long as Victor quietly covered her debts. The moment the last payment was made, Ella was sacked. Victor proposed she stay homecheaper that way. She agreed but never took to knitting, stews, or frying cutlets. Instead, it was endless café lounging with friends, beauty salons, shopping sprees. Victor returned from work to fry his own eggs, waiting for his lady wife. As the saying goes, the wife goes visiting while the husband gnaws the bone.
Every summer, they toured Europe. Victor loved with abandon.
Years passed.
At twenty, Irene bore a sonno one knew the father. “Brought it in her apron,” as they say. Ella took charge of the boy while Irene brought a parade of “fathers” home. Victor grew vexed, and Ella insisted he buy Irene a flata three-bedder, mindso a proper father might step forth. Victor complied. Soon, Irene took up with a decent chap who loved her and the boy, but Ella despised himhis wages werent enough. She nagged endlessly about wealthier suitors until, at last, he left. Now Victor supports Ellas grandson too.
When our daughter turned thirty, she wished to celebrate with her broken family. Ella refused to let Victor go alone and joined him. After wine at the table, Ella regaled me with tales of the men she truly fanciedruffians, brutes. Victor, she claimed, was never her type. Yet he was her golden goose. “Pout my lips, and Victor would break his back for me. With him, lifes a bed of roses!”
Bored at home, Ella meddled in Victors businessand succeeded. Now he runs to our son-in-law for loans.
Thats their love story.
Victor and Ella married twenty years ago. Theyre still together. I dont understand
