Sorry about my cow! Shes stuffing her face again! Arthurs voice, usually smooth and confident, cracked like a whip through the festive air, stinging everyone at the table.
Emily froze, her fork hovering mid-air, a slice of ham skewered on its tines. The delicate bite never reached her crystal plate, suspended in shock. She sat there, fragile as autumn spider silk, facing her husband while dozens of eyespitying, curious, uncomfortableburned into her. Her body felt foreign, heavy, her heart hammering in her throat, stealing her breath.
Thomas, Arthurs closest friend, choked on his expensive champagne, golden bubbles hissing in protest. His wife, Victoria, beside him, formed a perfect circle of shock with her lips, but no sound escaped. The lavish dining table, groaning under the weight of dishes, drowned in thick, suffocating silencethe kind where even the flutter of eyelashes felt like betrayal.
Arthur, what the hell? Thomas was the first to break it, his voice rough.
Whats the issue? Cant handle the truth now? Arthur leaned back in his heavy Venetian chair, smug. His gaze swept the room, hunting for approval. My silly girls piled on the pounds againembarrassing to be seen with her! Cooks like shes feeding an army, not guests.
Emily burnednot with shame, but with humiliation, scalding from the inside. Bitter tears pricked her eyes, but she swallowed them back, automatic after three years of marriage. At first, shed cried into pillows, then into the bath, until eventually, the tears dried up. What was the point? They only fed the cruelty.
Come on, Arthur, muttered James from across the table, trying to salvage the sinking evening. Emilys lovelywarms the soul.
Lovely? Arthur snorted, laughter jagged as metal scraping. You ever see her without all that makeup? Wakes up looking grey as porridge. I roll over some mornings and nearly jumpwhos this gargoyle next to me?
Someone stifled a nervous giggle, then fell silent under Victorias glare. Others suddenly found their plates fascinating, tracing patterns in the gravy.
Thats when Emily stood. Slow, dreamlike, every movement an effort, like tearing off strips of her own dignity.
I need the loo, she whispered, barely audible, and left without meeting anyones eyes.
Oh, now shes offended! Arthur announced, theatrically throwing up his hands. Dont worry, shell be back soon, pouting like a child. Women, eh? Keep em in line or theyll walk all over youlike mould on bread.
Thomas stared at his friend of fifteen yearsonce charming, now unrecognisable. Arthur had always been the life of every party, generous, quick-witted. When he married Emily, everyone cheered: her, porcelain-delicate with doe eyes; him, handsome, successful, self-assured. A perfect match.
But something fracturedquietly, like a crack in antique glass. First came the playful nicknames. In front of friends, Arthur called her my daft bird, clumsy mare, useless. People laughed awkwardly, brushing it off as oddball affection. Then came the real hell. Jokes turned to jabs, jabs to outright degradation.
Look, my piglets scoffed another cake! hed crow in restaurants when she dared order dessert.
Sorry, lads, my half-dead mouse cant cookbrace yourselves! hed say, presenting meals shed spent hours preparing.
What can you expect from her? Barely scraped through uni, works for pennies!this about a woman with a first-class degree in literature, adored by her students.
Victoria nudged Thomas. Do something. This is vile.
Thomas stood. Need some air.
He found Emily not in the bathroom but in the marble-clad powder room, gripping the sink so hard her knuckles bleached white. Silent, dry sobs shook her shoulders. Mascara streaked her cheeks, lipstick smeared. She looked brokenexactly how Arthur wanted her.
Emily you alright? he asked softly.
She startled, scrubbing her face. Fine. Just washing up. Be back soon.
How long can you take this? Thomass voice trembled with fury.
Where would I go? Her eyes met his, hollow. Ive nothing. This house? His. Cars? His. Even this stupid jumperhis gift. Im a primary teachermy salarys a joke. My parents are in Yorkshire, barely scraping by. Go back? Humiliate Mum in front of the whole village?
This isnt your fault!
To them, it would be! she hissed. They bragged Id married up, a rich Londoner! Now what? Tell them my golden husband calls me a cow in public?
Was he always like this?
Emily shook her head. First yearfairy tale. Flowers, gifts, compliments. Carried me like glass. Then it started. First, You cant even roast beef right. Then, Dressed like a farmers wife. Then, Clueless about business. Now? Now he doesnt care who hears him. And at home She clenched her jaw.
At home, what?
He doesnt hit. Worse. He doesnt see me. Weeks of silence, walking past like Im a ghost. Then he explodescup in the wrong place, towel hung wrong. Says Im nothing, that he keeps me out of pity.
Emily, thats insane! Youre brilliant, kind
I dont even know who I am anymore, she cut in. I look in the mirror and see what he says: stupid, fat, ugly. Maybe hes right?
From the dining room, Arthurs roar of laughter: You should see her in bedstiff as a plank, like shes waiting for divine intervention!
Emily paled. Thomas clenched his fists. Enough. Pack a bag. Were leaving.
Where? she whispered.
Anywhere. Your parents, ours, a hoteldoesnt matter.
He wont let me.
Not his choice anymore.
When they returned, Arthur, drunk, was regaling guests: Last week, she lost her glassesthey were on her head the whole time!
Were going, Thomas said firmly.
Going where? Arthur scowled.
Taking Emily.
Shes not going anywhere! Emily, sit down!
She mechanically stepped forward, but Thomas caught her arm. Were leaving.
Shes my wife! Arthur stood, face twisted.
Wife, not slave, Thomas replied calmly.
This is private! Emily, sit down now! His shout rattled the chandelier.
Emily stood frozenuntil Victoria wrapped an arm around her. Come on, youre staying with us.
Shes not leaving! Arthur roared.
I am, Emily said, quiet but clear. The fear was gone. Im leaving you, Arthur.
You? And go where? Youve got nothing!
Ive got me. Thats enough.
Whod want you, you fat, plain
Thanks for saying it out loud, she said evenly.
She moved to the door.
Wait! This over jokes?
This is over years of humiliation. Im tired.
But I love you!
No. You love power. Theyre not the same.
So what, back to cows in Yorkshire?
Yes. At least theyll respect me more than you.
She buttoned her coateach fastening sealing the past.
Emily, dont be daft! He grabbed her sleeve.
Let go. You dont change. Goodbye.
She walked out. Thomas and Victoria followed. Arthur stood alone in the empty flat.
He forced a smirk for the guests. Shell be back, he croaked. They always are.
But Emily didnt return. Not the next day. Not in a month.
He called, begged, sent flowers, waited by her school. She walked past him like a shadow. After three months, she filed for divorce. First, she stayed with Thomas and Victoria, then rented a tiny room with peeling wallpaperbut it was hers. A place no one called her a cow.
How are you? Thomas asked six months later.
Learning, she smiled. To look in the mirror and not see his words. Its hard. But Im fighting. And winning.
Arthur asks about you.
Dont tell me. I dont want to know.
They say hes changed.
Maybe. But so have I. And Im not going back.
Her smile was realwarm, steady.
Arthur stayed alone. With his humour that no one laughed at anymore. With his belief that cruelty was love. Only now did he realise the woman hed called daft had the strength of a lioness. That no woman would ever reflect a man who only saw her as a shadow.
Emily? She made it. Just in time. She learned to live, breathe, loveherself, and life. Proving even from shards of scorn, you can piece together your own happiness.
