When Tanya showed her wedding photos to friends, she always quipped:
“Oh, I suffered in that dress! It was beautiful, sure, but so heavy and cumbersome! Next time I get married, Ill pick something light and airy.”
Everyone assumed she was jokingand laughed along. Tanya *was* joking, in a way. Her friends knew she had married for love. It had been a classic holiday romance: Tanya at 21, Oliver at 28.
August, the gentle sea, sparkling wine, starlit skies, romanceall these elements fused together and landed on a marriage license. Of course, Oliver had to divorce his second wife first, while Tanya moved to his hometown.
London to Brighton to Londonthat route would become painfully familiar to Tanya for the next decade.
But first, the newlyweds had to rent a place. Oliver had given his flat to his second wife, who had threatened to overdose, douse his new bride in acid, or jump out a window if he didnt crawl back to her. Eventually, though, the ex-wife went quiet. Maybe Oliver had promised to return? As for wife number one, he preferred not to dwell on that. A brief, forgettable marriageeighteen months, then hed passed her off to a friend. Everyone was happier for it, himself included.
Wife number two lasted longer. Three years, long enough for Oliver to grasp her unsettling naturea woman who refused to have “human offspring” (her exact words).
None of this troubled Tanya. She was self-assured, ambitious, certain of her beauty and uniqueness. Oliver adored her. Flowers by the armful, three fur coats at once, endless shoesshe could change them daily. He whisked her off to Paris, Rome, even a seaside getaway in Cornwall. Broadening her horizons, he called it, before their first child arrived.
Soon, little Emily was born. While Tanya doted on her, Oliver bought a house and furnished it lovinglyeverything for his girls. They celebrated moving in. Emily started nursery.
Tanya threw herself into studypreferably back in London, where her friends and mum were, where even strangers felt warm. Under familiar oaks, she felt at peace.
Emily stayed with her doting grandmother while Tanya attended lectures. Oliver, consumed by jealousy, kept “accidentally” turning up in Londonas if bumping into her there made sense. Tanya never gave him reason to worry. Or so it seemed.
Truthfully, she longed to escape domesticity. Shed study forever if it meant no dishes, no floors, no childcare. Life was shortwhy should she, brilliant and beautiful, waste it on trivialities?
Eventually, Tanya carried three red-ribboned diplomas in her handbagpsychology her main field. She hunted jobs eagerly. Oliver protested:
“Do we need the money? Ill go mad waiting for you! Tanya, lets have another childa boy or girl, I dont care. Just stay close.”
Tanya saw no more children in her future. Shed done her dutygiven him Emily. What more did he want? Her mother-in-law, listening to her lofty excuses, offered to keep Emily full-time. “The girl needs love, not a mother whod rather float in the clouds.”
Tanya agreedinstantlythen vanished to London without telling Oliver. “Ill call from there,” she decided.
But Oliver was already in London, wise to her tricks. “Tanya, wheres Emily? Why are you here? Is there someone else?”
“No admirers, Oliver. Im just… bored with you. I want freedom,” she said coolly.
“Freedom? From me? From Emily? Wheres the love gone? Is this a midlife crisis? Well get through it”
“We wont,” Tanya cut in.
Oliver begged her mother for help. She shrugged. “You wont change her mind, son. Shes stubborn as oak.”
He returned to Brighton alone, bewildered. After all his kindness, this? Maybe he just didnt fit.
Weeks passed. Tanya never came back, answering calls tersely: “Im fine.”
Finally, Oliver sold the house, took Emily, and moved to Londonsacrificing everything to save his family.
Tanya was indifferent. “Dont uproot her,” she argued. New school, leaving friendsher grandmother wouldnt approve.
Excuses. Tanya revelled in her freedom, her fledgling dressmaking business, her admirers. Why shackle herself again? Shed erase her past, hard as stone.
Oliver ignored her, clinging to hope. He met Tanya after work, brought Emily (her mirror image). Futile. Tanya was unmoved. Finally, she ended it:
“Oliver, leave me alone. Lets divorce. Emily can stay with me.”
Emily was elevenhardly needing shelter. She had a devoted father, a grandmother praying nightly for her. She remembered her mother. Loved her. But couldnt fathom her choice.
Time passed, unyielding. Life moved on.
Oliver stopped chasing the impossible. Fate gave him a down-to-earth womanno Paris trips, no furs, just sturdy boots for muddy walks and raising her two sons. With her, he found peace. (“Where things are simple, angels dwell.”) Soon, a daughter was born. True happiness, at last.
As for Tanya? She lived with her mother. A business partner swindled her, her dress shop collapsed, her suitors vanished. Now she worked as a school psychologist. No regretsthough who knows what lurks in the human heart? Might remorse ever flicker in her?
Emily, grown now, married in Brightonwearing a light, airy wedding dress. A gift from her mother.
