Margaret Hughes gently took the wedding dress out of the wardrobe, ran her hands over the crisp white fabric and felt tears sting her eyes. Her daughter Ethel had come back home just three months after the big day but she returned alone, without a husband, without a smile, without any hope of happiness.
Mom, can I move back in with you? Ethel asked, voice shaking, as she stood on the doorstep with two suitcases.
Without a word, Margaret wrapped her arms around her girl and helped carry the bags upstairs. The questions could wait; Margaret just knew something had shattered beyond repair in her only childs life.
Now that Ethel was back at work, Margaret kept slipping into bitter memories. It had all started so beautifully.
Ethel had met James at a New Years office party. A friend had dragged her there so she wouldnt spend the night alone. Shed tried to decline, but eventually she went.
The tall, darkhaired bloke with brown eyes won her over at first sight. He courted her with flowers, set up romantic evenings, and Ethel, overwhelmed by the attention, fell for him. Six months later James got down on one knee right there in the restaurant, in front of everyone.
Ethel, will you be my wife? he asked, his voice soft as he slid a velvet box across the table.
She blushed, smiled shyly, and whispered a simple Yes. The room fell silent, waiting for her answer, and then she gave it.
The whirlwind wedding planning began. James was insistent on a lavish celebration.
My love, you only get married once. I want everything to be perfect, he pleaded, eyes bright.
Ethel would have preferred something modest, but she gave in to his wishes. He booked an expensive restaurant, invited loads of his friends and colleagues most of whom Ethel had never met before.
Margaret recalled the kitchen conversation that night.
Sweetheart, arent you rushing? You barely know each other, shed asked gently.
Dont worry, Mum. Im twentyeight, I can wait a bit longer. James is so caring, Ive never had a better man, Ethel had replied, beaming.
Now she returned home with a hollow stare. What went wrong?
James moved into Ethels tiny onebed flat straight after the wedding, insisting they didnt need to spend on a new place while she already owned the flat.
Darling, Ive started saving for our future home. Well put up with the cramped space for a while, then buy something bigger, he told her, planting a kiss on her temple.
Ethel didnt want their marriage to start with money talks, so she agreed. Then it turned out James had lost his job even before they wed.
Why didnt you tell me? Ethel asked, stunned, after hearing it from a mutual acquaintance.
I didnt want to dampen the mood before the wedding, James shrugged. Im still looking for a new role, dont worry.
Weeks passed and James didnt hustle. He slept in late, spent most of the day at his laptop pretending to send out CVs, and met friends in the evenings. Ethel worked in accounts, left early and came home late, and the bulk of household chores fell to her.
James, could you take a temporary job while you keep searching for a permanent one? she suggested cautiously.
You think I should be a courier or a warehouse hand? he snapped. Ive got a degree and experience; I wont downgrade to rubbish work.
One evening Ethel came home early. From the hallway she saw Jamess silhouette in the window. She went up the stairs, heard loud voices, and opened the door with her key. A noisy crowd was already in her flat empty bottles, chips on the table, blaring music.
Ethel! We just had a few drinks, James grinned, trying to hug her.
The smell of alcohol hit her. She glanced at the mess, the dirty dishes, and slipped into the bathroom, locked the door and started sobbing. What had become of her life?
The next morning, after the guests had gone and James was sound asleep, Ethel discovered her gold earrings a birthday gift from her parents were gone from the jewellery box. She woke James.
Where are my earrings? she demanded.
What earrings? he mumbled halfasleep.
The gold ones that were in the box.
James winced and sat up.
Oh, those I borrowed them for a bit. Planned to pawn them with a jeweller friend and buy them back straight away.
You sold my earrings? she cried.
No, I pledged them! We needed cash, I was going to repay everything.
Wheres the money? she pressed.
We went to the pub with the lads, he shrugged.
Ethel sank onto a chair. Her husband had spent their money and even pawned her personal things to keep drinking with friends, while shed been saving up for a new sofa.
The problems kept piling up like a snowball. It turned out James had hidden loans he never mentioned before the wedding, and Ethel was the one covering the repayments. He kept inventing excuses for his unemployment and even hinted that she should work more.
James, this cant go on, Ethel said one night. We need to talk seriously.
What about? he asked, annoyed, not looking up from his phone.
My life, James. Im working from dawn till dusk, paying the rent, buying groceries, and you She trailed off.
What? Speak up, he snapped, his tone turning threatening.
Youre not making any effort to improve our situation, Ethel finished quietly.
James leapt up, flinging his phone aside.
Are you accusing me of being lazy? he shouted. Do you think I should work for pennies? Im not a servant!
After that, the tension grew. Ethel started staying later at work just to avoid home. She kept replaying the mistake of rushing into marriage.
James became irritable, harsh. He could lose his temper over the smallest things. One night he exploded because shed forgotten his favourite orange juice.
You never think of me! I only asked for juice, is that too much? he roared, pacing the room.
Im exhausted, Im sorry, she whispered, feeling a chill run down her spine. Shed never seen him look so angry.
Everyone ignores my requests! he slammed his fist on the table, making Ethel jump.
A call from a friend of Jamess suddenly cooled his fury. He smiled, grabbed the handset, and stepped out onto the balcony.
Days turned worse. Money vanished faster than before. One morning Ethel checked her bank app and saw a big chunk withdrawn at a nightclub on a night James claimed he was staying over a mates place.
Why are you checking on me? he snapped when she showed him the statement.
What money are you blowing on? she asked quietly.
Does it matter? Were a family, we share everything! he replied.
Something finally snapped inside Ethel. She realised the James she fell for was just a polished front during courtship. The real James was lazy, irresponsible, maybe even dishonest.
The last straw was her mothers ring. Margaret had given Ethel a family heirloom a rubyset signet that had passed down the womens line. Ethel kept it in a little box. One day, preparing for her aunts birthday, she opened the box to find it empty.
Her heart stopped. She rushed to James.
Did you take Mums ring? she asked.
He averted his eyes, muttering, I needed cash urgently. A friend was in trouble, I couldnt refuse. Ill pay him back, I promise.
Ethel sank onto the chair. Everything clicked. The friend didnt exist, the job never existed hed just been using her, living off her money, selling her things.
I want a divorce, she whispered.
Jamess face twisted.
You cant do that to me! Im your husband! We swore to stand together in sorrow and joy!
Sorrow was plenty, Ethel sneered, bitterly. Joy never came.
Youll regret this! he warned.
She was terrified, but that night, while James was out with his mates, she packed the essentials and drove to her parents house. There, in the familiar kitchen, she broke down, spilling everything about the short, disastrous marriage.
Mum, I shouldve listened when you said not to rush, she sobbed.
Margaret stroked her hair and said gently, Itll be alright, love. Youll find happiness again, I promise.
A week later, when Ethel dared return to her flat for the remaining things, she found it turned upside down. Appliances, jewellery, even some clothes were gone. James had taken everything he could sell and vanished.
Ethel dropped to the floor amidst the wreckage and, oddly, laughed a harsh, bitter laugh. Her marriage lay in ruins, just like the apartment.
A month passed. She filed for divorce; James never showed up at the court. Rumour had it hed fled to another city. Ethel now had to pay off the loans James had taken in her name during the marriage.
Margaret carefully folded the wedding dress back into the wardrobe. Perhaps one day Ethel would wear a white dress again, meeting a worthy man. For now, that dress would sit as a reminder of a mistake not to repeat.
That evening, after Ethel got home from work, Margaret brewed a cup of tea and said, You know, love, a wedding is just one day. Happiness is built over years, with someone who truly deserves it.
Ethel managed a weak smile. Now I get it, Mum. Better to be single than with someone who makes you miserable.
Every day Ethel took small steps toward a new life. She picked up extra shifts to clear the debts, signed up for a professional course, and spent weekends strolling in the park and catching up with friends shed neglected while married.
One afternoon she flicked through old photos and found the wedding pictures. In one, she stood radiant in a white dress, bouquet in hand, James smiling beside her a snapshot of a time when she still believed in fairy tales. She stared at it, then ripped the photo apart.
It felt symbolic, tearing not just the picture but the illusion that happiness could be handed to you like a wedding cake. Real joy, she realised, has to be built brick by brick, day by day, starting with yourself.
That night she finally slept with a lighter heart. She didnt know what the future held, but she was firm: she wouldnt live by anyone elses expectations or make hasty choices again. Shed still have a chance to create a true, solid, happy family but on her own terms.
For now, shes learning to be happy alone. After all, happiness isnt a stamp in a passport or a white dress; its a state of mind that doesnt depend on marital status. And shes taking steady, confident steps toward that feeling.
