**The Second Wife**
I was certain my ex-husband would soon leave this woman. Ella was completely out of his leaguebrash, reckless, a desperate adventurer. Six years older than Victor, she carried herself with an air of mystery, always impeccably dressed. But the moment she opened her mouth, the illusion shattered. Victor, on the other hand, was her oppositegentle, caring, steady. You might ask why we divorced if he was such a saint. The fault was mine. I admit it.
After our split, Victor threw himself into chaos. First, he toyed with a fling with his colleague, Natalie. Shed been pining for him for years, dreaming of becoming his wife. Natalie had a young son who needed a father, and she was eager to step into the role of Victors devoted caregiver. She cooked for him, ironed his shirts to perfectioneverything short of tying his scarf before he left the house. But Victor wanted a wife, not a mother. The office romance fizzled within months.
Then it was my best friend, Olivia, who swooped in. Shed always fancied Victor, though he thought I never noticed. Free from husbands and children, she was desperate for love. The moment she sensed our marriage crumbling, she became his shoulder to cry on. For a year, Victor waveredback and forth between Olivia and the remnants of our home. His savings drained into her hands, and a wedding seemed inevitable.
Then, out of nowhere, Ella appeared. Introduced by mutual friends, they were pushed together”Both single, both with children, why not make a go of it?” Victor confessed about Olivia. “A fiancée isnt a wife,” Ella declared. “She can be un-fiancéed!” And just like that, Olivia was sidelined. Ella dragged Victor to the registry office, moved in with her daughter, Lily, and took over his life. By then, Victor and I had already split our shared flat.
Lily was fourteen thena rebellious handful, constantly running off, too independent for her own good. Once married, Ella swiftly convinced Victors mother to downsize from her two-bedroom flat to a one-bedder. “Its too much for you to manage,” she coaxed. The poor woman agreed without protest, just to keep peace in Victors new life. With the leftover money, Ella renovated the flat and registered herself and Lily there.
Ella was always in some scrapea stolen fur coat, a cash register shortfall, snapping at wealthy customers. Her employer tolerated it only because Victor quietly covered every loss. The moment the last payment was made, she was sacked. Victor suggested she stay homecheaper that way. Ella agreed but refused to cook or clean. Instead, she whiled away hours in cafés, beauty salons, and shopping sprees. Victor would come home to an empty house, fry himself eggs, and wait for his beloved.
Every summer, they toured Europe. Victor loved grandly and without restraint.
Years passed.
Lily had a son at twentyno one knew the father. Ella was left raising the boy while Lily paraded a string of “dads” through the house. Victor grew increasingly irritated, so Ella persuaded him to buy Lily a flatpreferably a three-bedder. “A proper home will attract a proper father,” she insisted. Victor bought it. Lily eventually settled with a decent man who loved her and the boy, but Ella despised him. “He doesnt earn enough,” she whined until he left. Now Victor supports Ellas grandson too.
When our daughter turned thirty, she wanted to reunite the broken family for her birthday. Ella refused to let Victor go alone. Over wine, she boasted about her preference for brutes and troublemakersVictor, she claimed, was never her type. But he was her golden ticket. “Pout, and hell move mountains for me,” she laughed. “Life with him isnt livingits a never-ending holiday!”
Bored of domesticity, she meddled in Victors business. Now hes borrowing from our son-in-law just to stay afloat.
Thats her idea of love.
Victor and Ella married twenty years ago. Theyre still together. I dont understand it.
