“Stuck Like a Leech”
“Listen, why are you nagging me? Im working, got it?! Im the one keeping this family afloat. What kind of daft question is that? Where else would I be, if not at work? Youre the one lounging about, living off me like some dead weight!”
…Lara had married Oliver three years ago. Hed pursued her relentlessly back thenclimbed a tree once, even, in front of all their mates, declaring hed do anything for her.
Now, the memory made Lara queasy. She never imagined that barely a year and a half into their marriage, everything would change so drastically. Oliver had, quite abruptly, stopped seeing her as a woman. A housemaid, cook, laundry service, therapistyes. A wife? Not so much. He stopped noticing her, stopped bringing home little trinkets. Didnt even wish her happy birthday. She tried talking to him, asking what was wrong, but Oliver just shrugged. “Everythings fine,” hed say.
After their son, Alfie, was born, things got worse. While Lara was still in hospital, Oliver moved all her things into the nursery. When she stared at him in disbelief, he just shrugged.
“Whats the problem? Youre his mumshouldnt you be with him? Im the only one working here; I need proper sleep. Simple as that. Alfies tiny, no routine yethell cry all night. You expect me to drag myself out of bed with a banging headache? Well manage.”
Lately, Lara couldnt shake the feeling she wasnt the only woman in Olivers life. Late nights at work werent new, but now they came with a side of snark. If she dared ask where hed been, hed snap:
“Christ, Lara, give it a rest! Im working, arent I? Providing for this family! Whats with the third degree? Where else would I be? Youre the one sat around doing sod all, living off my hard work!”
Guilt gnawed at her. Maybe she was overreacting. So he worked latebig deal. Overtime paid well, didnt it? The thought he might be cheating hadnt crossed her mind… until now.
…Lara woke to the slam of the front doorOliver had already left for work. Again, no “good morning.” Months had passed without breakfast together, let alone waking up in the same bed. Since Alfies arrival, her beloved husband had banished her to the nursery. Their marriage, once solid as oak, now crumbled like a stale biscuit.
She flopped back onto the pillow, then snatched her phone and dialled. The line rang forever before a clipped, irritated voice answered.
“What do you want? Im busy!”
Laras chest tightened. “Hi. Just wanted to wish you a good day. You left so early, and”
Oliver cut her off. “Thats why youre calling? Ive got a meeting, Lara. No time for this clingy nonsense. Youre like a bloody leech!”
The line went dead. Lara sniffed, wiped her eyes, and shuffled out of bed. Alfie would wake soonbest freshen up before then. And figure out how to carry on.
In the bathroom mirror, puffy eyes and tangled hair stared back. No trace of the woman shed been.
“Right. Look at you,” she muttered. “Frumpy mum. Human leech.” The thought stung, and fresh tears spilled.
After splashing water on her face, she tiptoed to the bedroom for clean sheets. Something on the shelf caught her eyeor rather, the absence of something. It took a moment to click.
The box was gone. The one with the… intimate purchases, bought specially for their third anniversary. Shed planned a cosy dinner, maybe even a spark of romance.
“Did you move it?” she muttered. “Why bother?”
Two hours later, with Alfie fed and napping, she tried Oliver again. That “leech” comment festered. Hed be on lunch nowsurely he could talk?
“Ollie, its me again. Sorry, but”
“What now?” he barked.
“We need to talk. Properly.”
“Spit it out, then. Make it quick.”
“Not over the phone. Tonight, after work?”
“Tonight, Im watching telly, not listening to your whinging. Couldnt this wait till then?”
“But its important! You dont even look at me anymore. Dont care how I look, how I feel”
“Oh, here we go!” Oliver groaned. “Right, lets tackle this. Looks? Youve let yourself go since Alfie. Bit heavier, bags under the eyesno big deal, youll bounce back. Feelings? Youre a mum now, Lara. Be gratefulsome women cant have kids. Im hardly the priority.”
“Thats not fair! Im still a person! I need to feel wanted”
“Fine. Start with your hair. And that dressmakes you look like a sack of spuds. You used to dress nice. And, Christ, your hygienes gone to pot. No makeup, nails a mess. Youre like a grey mouse now.”
“A grey mouse?! Im with Alfie all day! When have you ever watched him for an hour?”
“Not my job. I earn; you manage the house and kid. And yourself! Look in the mirror, Lara. Cookings gone downhill toohope lunch isnt oversalted again? Ugh, youve ruined my mood. Dont call back.”
She didnt. That evening, she showered, dabbed on mascara, even attempted a hairstyle. Met him at the door with a smile, asked about his day.
His response? “Bloody hell, Lara, whats with the circus act? That dress is hideousyour legs look like bent straws! Change. Now.”
She slapped him. Hard. Then fled to the bathroom, scrubbing off her makeup like it was poison. The dress went in the bin. Oliver, cool as ice, flopped in front of the telly, skipping dinner.
Later, with Alfie asleep, she remembered the missing box. An excuse to talkto finally ask why hed fallen out of love. He barely glanced up as she perched on the bed.
“Ollie, wheres the box from the shelf?”
He grunted. “What box?”
“The one from Boots. With the… you know. I wanted to do something nice for our anniversary. Mum was going to take Alfie”
Oliver exploded. “You accusing me of something?! Youve lost the plot! How dare you!”
The row that followed was volcanic. Then, out of nowhere:
“Fine! I took it. And Im leaving. Shouldve done it ages ago. Youre clueless, Lara. Theres someone else.”
“How long?” Her voice was eerily calm.
“Months. Before Alfie. You were insufferable pregnantalways whinging for cuddles, belly rubs… I stayed for him, not you.”
“Whats she got that I havent?”
A smirk. “One big perk, Lara. She cant have kids.”
She walked out. No tears, no painjust freedom. By Alfies cot, she stroked his cheek. Shed be fine. Oliver? He could sod off.
…To his credit, Oliver moved out, leaving Lara and Alfie the flat. Both sets of grandparents rallied round. The divorce was quiet; he pays child support without fuss. Barely sees Alfieprobably for the best. Laras in no rush to see him either. Some words stick: “leech,” “grey mouse,” “bent straws.”
And that was that.
