She didnt argue. She just walked away.
An early autumn morning was damp and grey. Eleanor awoke to the shrill alarm, pulled herself reluctantly out of the duvet, threw on a robe and shuffled to the window. Pulling back the curtains, she saw the bleak scene outside a light drizzle, bare tree branches and a sullen sky, matching her mood perfectly.
Today marked the thirtieth wedding anniversary for her and James. She hadnt expected any special greetings; in recent years James had forgotten such milestones entirely, and only ever mentioned them after she hinted at them delicately.
She brewed a cup of tea, sat at the kitchen table, and a memory slipped in: their first anniversary, five years after the wedding. James had surprised her then with a massive bouquet of roses and tickets to the theatre. After the play they went to a restaurant where he raised a heartfelt toast to love and fidelity. At that moment she believed their happiness would last forever.
A loud snore rumbled from the bedroom. James could sleep until noon. Lately he habitually came home after midnight, smelling of tobacco and cheap whisky. When she asked him where hed been, his answers were vague: stayed late with the lads, important meeting, you wouldnt understand anyway.
Eleanor sighed and set about making breakfast. She decided on pancakes, hoping the familiar taste might remind James of the significance of the day. In their early years hed always said her pancakes were the best in the world.
Around ten oclock a halfasleep James drifted into the kitchen, bypassed any greeting and headed straight for the fridge.
Morning, Eleanor said softly. Ive made pancakes.
I havent got time to mess about with your pancakes, he grunted, pouring himself a glass of kefir. Vince called, wants me to pop over and look at his car.
A lump rose in Eleanors throat. Somewhere deep down she still hoped for a miracle.
Do you even know what today is? she asked gently.
James froze for a heartbeat, then shrugged. Its Tuesday, I think. What of it?
Nothing, she whispered, turning to the window to hide the tears welling up.
He downed the kefir, slammed the empty glass into the sink and disappeared into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later he was out the front door.
Im off to Vinces. Dont expect me for dinner, he called over his shoulder.
James, today marks thirty years since we tied the knot, Eleanor blurted, unable to hold it in.
He halted in the doorway, a scowl crossing his face. So what? You want a parade? How many more anniversaries do you need, Ellen? Flowers? Ill buy them, no problem.
It isnt about the flowers, she answered quietly. I thought it mattered to you, too.
Ive got plenty to do, not time for sentiment, he snapped, slamming the door.
Eleanor was left alone in the empty flat. She cleared the cooling pancakes from the table, brewed another cup of tea and let memories of happier days swirl in her mind.
After lunch she decided to take a walk. The rain had stopped and a shy autumn sun peeked through. She strolled slowly through the park, breathing the fresh air and mulling over her life.
When she first met James he was a cheerful, attentive lad. He drove a city bus and dreamed of owning his own garage. They married quickly, six months after meeting. Their daughter, Emily, was born soon after. Money was tight, but the household was warm. James always found time for family, even after long shifts.
Gradually things improved. James opened a modest garage, their finances steadied, they bought a flat and a car. Emily grew up, completed her studies and moved to another city.
But their relationship grew colder each year. First he stayed late at work, then he began disappearing in the evenings. Eleanor endured it all, never causing a scene, believing it was only a phase and that things would improve. Yet the months passed unchanged.
Lost in thought she wandered into a small café, seeking solace and a hot chocolate. Inside it was warm and cosy. She settled at a window seat, ordered, and watched the other patrons. At the next table an elderly couple ate cake slowly, chatting in low tones. The man dabbed crumbs from the womans lips with his napkin; she smiled gratefully. The tenderness of that simple gesture made Eleanors heart ache.
Why did things fall apart for us? she wondered, stirring her drink. When did we stop noticing each other?
That evening she returned home to a quiet, empty flat. She turned on the telly to stave off loneliness and began preparing dinner. The habit of feeding a husband who no longer appreciated it lingered.
Just before nine, the doorbell rang. Their neighbour, Peter Johnson, stood on the landing with a bottle of red wine.
Ellie, sorry to drop by so late, he said, smiling. I just wanted to wish you well. I remember you mentioned your wedding anniversary falls at the start of November.
Eleanor was taken aback. Peter and she were merely friendly neighbours, exchanging a few words in the stairwell now and then, helping each other with small tasks. She couldnt recall ever mentioning the date to him.
Thanks, Peter, she replied, a faint smile crossing her face as she accepted the bottle. I wasnt expecting that.
I didnt mean to intrude, he said apologetically. I know James is often away, so I thought Id say something Anyway, Ill let you get on with your evening. Happy anniversary.
When Peter left, Eleanor stood with the wine in her hands, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and bitterness. A stranger remembered her milestone, while her own husband hadnt even bothered to call.
Just before midnight James staggered in, reeking of alcohol, a bright lipstick stain on his shirt.
Where have you been? Eleanor asked quietly.
Now Ive got to explain everything? he snapped. We were out with the lads, having a night
Whats that stain on your shirt?
What stain? he glanced at his shirt, waving it off. Never mind. Vinces daughter leaned on me when she greeted me, thats all.
Vinces daughter is twentyseven, isnt she? Eleanor replied calmly. She only wears burgundy lipstick, and thats a vivid red mark.
Enough of your jealousy, James growled. Maybe shes using a new shade, who knows? And why are you interrogating me?
Eleanor said nothing, slipped into the bedroom, locked the door and lay down. Sleep eluded her; thoughts of a marriage reduced to a farce kept turning. They lived like neighbours, barely friendly.
The next morning, while James napped on the sofa, Eleanor called Emily.
Hey, love. Hows everything? Hows little Tommy?
All good, Mum, Emily answered. Tommys crawling everywhere. Dad didnt call yesterday, forgot about your anniversary?
Exactly, Eleanor said, a sad smile touching her lips. Listen, I need to talk. Remember you asked me to come and help with the grandchild?
Of course! Are you serious? Emily replied, brightening. Come over, wed love to have you! Tommy would enjoy spending time with his grandma.
Ill come, Eleanor said firmly. But not just for a week as you suggested. I want to stay longer, maybe even move in permanently.
Mum, is something wrong? Emily asked, worried.
Nothing major, Eleanor answered. Just tired. Well talk later. Ill be there in three days.
After the call Eleanor felt a strange relief. The decision that had been brewing for years finally took shape. She no longer wanted to live with a man who didnt respect or value her.
James woke around lunch with a pounding headache. Eleanor placed a tablet and a glass of water beside him without a word.
Whats with the sour face? he asked, wincing. Still moping over yesterday? Sorry I forgot the date. Who hasnt slipped up?
Im heading to Emilys, Eleanor said evenly. Ill help with the baby.
When?
Day after tomorrow.
For how long?
I dont know. Maybe forever.
James, about to swallow his pill, paused, mouth open.
What do you mean forever?
I mean literally, Eleanor met his gaze. Im leaving you, James.
Whats this all about? he asked, a nervous grin flashing. Because of the anniversary? I could buy you a dozen roses right now if thats what you want.
Its not the anniversary, she shook her head. Its that weve become strangers. You live your life, I live mine, yet we pretend were a family.
Ellie, what are you saying? What strangers? Thirty years together!
Thats exactly why Im leaving now, she said, a sad smile tugging at her lips. I dont want us to waste another thirty years suffering.
Whos torturing you? James shouted. Do you have a roof over your head? I do. I bring in the money. What else do you need?
Eleanor stared at the angry, incomprehending man and thought how much he had changed or perhaps simply stopped pretending.
I need a lot, James, she whispered. I need attention, care, respect. I need to feel loved and important, not just a housekeeper who wipes off foreign lipstick from my shirts.
Again with your complaints! James exploded. I told you nothing happened!
It doesnt matter whether it happened, Eleanor replied, weary. What matters is weve become strangers. You act as if I dont exist, and I cant live like that any longer.
Wait, James ruffled his hair nervously. Youre really going? What about the flat? The things?
I dont need much. Ill take only my things. Let the flat stay with you. I value my peace of mind more.
And where will you go? To my daughters place? Does she need a motherinlaw?
Emily invited me, Eleanor said calmly. Ill help with the baby, maybe find work there. The citys big, there are plenty of opportunities.
What about me? Who will cook, wash, clean?
Eleanor gave a small, sad smile that was the whole answer to his question.
Youre a grown man, James. Youll manage. Or youll find someone younger and prettier to put up with your antics.
For the next two days James acted as if he didnt believe she was serious. He alternated between pretending nothing was happening and throwing clumsy compliments and promises of change.
Ellie, lets forget all this, he pleaded one evening before her departure. Ill try, I swear. Well go to the theatre, eat out. How about a holiday by the sea next summer?
But Eleanor had already made up her mind. She packed quietly, placing essentials in a suitcase, leaving the rest for later if needed.
In the morning a taxi pulled up. James stood in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot.
Maybe youll stay after all? he asked as she was about to leave. Think it over. Thirty years isnt a joke. You cant just walk away.
Goodbye, James, she said softly, brushing his shoulder. Take care of yourself.
She didnt argue or try to settle things. She simply left.
On the way to the station she watched the familiar streets glide by the taxi window, feeling for the first time in years that she was truly free. The future was unknown, but it no longer frightened her. Instead she hoped that this new chapter would bring something good.
Emily met her at the station with little Tommy in tow. The baby immediately reached for his grandmother, and she cradled him, tears streaming down her cheeks not from sorrow, but from relief.
Mum, are you crying? Emily asked, concerned. What happened? Did you and Dad fight?
No, love, Eleanor said, shaking her head and kissing the chubby cheek of her grandson. We didnt fight. I just realised sometimes you have to know when to walk away.
Six months later she was working in a childrens nursery, living in a modest flat not far from Emilys house, and felt happier than she had in years.
James called a few times, begging her to return, but his voice carried only selfish desire for comfort, not genuine remorse.
One evening, on her way home from work, she passed an elderly couple strolling arminarm, the very pair shed watched in the café on her anniversary day. They chatted quietly, moving at a leisurely pace. As she walked past, the woman smiled at her, and Eleanor returned the smile.
Thats how real love should look, she thought. Even after many years, you still see each other with tenderness, not irritation.
Back home she brewed a cup of tea, settled into her favourite armchair and opened a book. Outside, a light spring rain fell, but inside her heart was warm and calm. She didnt regret her choice. Sometimes you have to leave in order to begin a new life, to close one door and open another.
