THE SECOND WIFE
I was convinced my ex-husband would run from this woman any day now. Ella wasnt from his worldtactless, flighty, a reckless adventurer. She was six years older than Victor. To be fair, Ella was pretty, always dressed tastefully, and knew how to spin an air of mystery around herself. But the moment she opened her mouth, that illusion shattered. Victor, my ex, was her polar oppositegentle, caring, calm. You might ask why we divorced if he was such a sweetheart. Well that was on me. Ill admit it.
When Victor and I split, he threw himself into chaos. First, he toyed with a fling with a coworker, Natalie. Shed been chasing him for ages, dreaming of becoming his wife. Natalie had a young son who needed a father, and she was ready to mother Victor too. She doted on himcooked lavish meals, ironed his shirts to perfection, practically wrapped a scarf around his neck before he stepped outside. But Victor wanted a wife, not another mum. That office romance fizzled out in three months. He managed to escape Natalies smothering care.
Next, my best friend (now ex-friend), Olivia, swooped in. Victor had always fancied her, though he thought I didnt notice. Free from commitments, Olivia was desperate for love. The second she spotted trouble in our marriage, she became his shoulder to cry on. For a year, Victor waveredback and forth between Olivia and the quiet loneliness of his empty flat. His savings drained into her pockets, and it looked like a wedding was on the cards.
Then Ella appeared out of nowhere. They met through mutual friends who insisted theyd be perfect togetherboth single, both with kids. Victor confessed about Olivia. “A fiancée isnt a wifeshe can be un-fiancéed!” Ella declared. Olivia was promptly sidelined. Ella dragged Victor to the registry office, moved in with her daughter, Iris, and took over his life. By then, Victor and I had already split our shared flat.
Iris was 14 thena whole other story. That girl was a handful, always running off, too independent for her own good. Once Ella became the legal wife, she suggested Victors mum downsize from her two-bedroom flat to a one-bedder. “Its too much space for you,” she insisted. Victors mum agreed without a fuss, just to keep the peace. With the leftover money, Ella renovated Victors flat and registered herself and Iris there.
Ella was always in some scrapeher designer coat stolen from a shop, a till shortage at work, snapping at a wealthy customer Her boss tolerated it only because Victor quietly covered every loss. The moment the last payment was made, Ella was fired. Victor suggested she stay homecheaper that way. She agreed, but knitting and cooking werent her style. Instead, it was endless café dates with friends, spa trips, shopping sprees. Victor came home to fry himself eggs while waiting for his lady. As they say, the wifes out gallivanting while the husband gnaws on bones.
Every summer, they jetted off around Europe. Victor loved extravagantly, no holds barred.
Time passed.
At 20, Iris had a babyno idea who the father was. Ella had to step in as grandma while Iris brought a parade of “dads” home. Victor hated it, so Ella convinced him to buy Iris her own flata three-bedder, no less. “A proper place will help her find a real father,” she argued. Victor bought it. Iris did settle down with a decent bloke who loved her and the kid, but Ella despised himhe didnt earn enough. She nagged about wealthy suitors until he left. Now Victor supports Ellas grandson too.
Our daughter wanted her 30th birthday with the broken pieces of our family. Ella wouldnt let Victor go alone. She tagged along, drank too much wine, and started bragging about her taste in menruffians, macho types. Apparently, Victor wasnt her type at all but he was her golden ticket. “Pout a little, and hed move mountains for me. Life with him is a breeze!”
Bored of domestic life, Ella muscled into Victors business. Now hes borrowing money from our son-in-law to stay afloat.
Thats their love story.
Victor and Ella married twenty years ago. Theyre still together. I dont get it
