“Sorry about my silly cow! She’s at it againstuffing herself without a shred of self-control!” Arseny’s voice, usually smooth and assured, cracked like a whip across the room, shattering the festive mood. The sting of his words left everyone frozen in place.
Annas fork hovered mid-air, her delicate fingers turning to stone as shame and disbelief washed over her. The slice of ham skewered on her fork never made it to the crystal plateit hung suspended, forgotten. She sat there, fragile as autumn lace, opposite her husband, feeling the prickle of dozens of eyespitying, shocked, uncomfortably curious. Her own body felt alien, heavy, her heart lodged in her throat, stealing her breath.
Max, Arsenys closest friend, choked on his champagnegolden bubbles hissed in his glass as if sharing his outrage. His wife Veronica, beside him, gaped in perfect, mute astonishment. Around the lavish table, groaning under the weight of dishes, a suffocating silence settled, thick as treacle, where even the flutter of lashes felt like betrayal.
“Arseny, what on earth are you saying?” Max rasped, the first to break the quiet, his voice rough with disbelief.
“Whats the problem? Since when is the truth off-limits?” Arseny leaned back in his heavy Venetian chair, smug, his gaze skimming the guests for approval. “My little idiots piled on the pounds againembarrassing to be seen with her. Cooks like shes feeding an army, not guests.”
Anna burned, but not with shamewith humiliation, scalding from within. Bitter tears threatened, but she swallowed them back, a skill honed over three years of marriage. First, shed cried into pillows, then in the bath, until finally, the tears dried up. What was the point? They only nourished the cruelty.
“Oh, leave it, Arseny,” muttered Sergei from across the table, trying to salvage the evening. “Annies a beauty, warms the soul.”
“A beauty?” Arseny snorted, his laugh metallic, jarring. “Seen her without all the makeup? Wakes up looking like something the cat dragged in. Gives me a fright some mornings!”
Someone stifled a nervous giggle but fell silent under Veronicas glare. The rest busied themselves with their plates, studying patterns in the gravy. And thenAnna stood. Slowly, dreamlike, every movement an act of defiance.
“I need the loo,” she whispered, barely audible, and slipped away, carrying the tatters of her dignity.
“Oh, now shes offended!” Arseny rolled his eyes, spreading his hands theatrically. “Shell be back soon enough, pouting like a child. Women need a firm handlet them get comfortable, and they turn to rot.”
Max stared at his friend of fifteen yearsonce charming, now unrecognisable. Arseny had always been the life of the party, generous, quick-witted. When he married Anna, everyone rejoicedshe, porcelain-fair with doe eyes; he, handsome, successful. A match made in heaven.
But cracks had formedsubtle, like fissures in antique glass. First came the “playful nicknames””my silly goose,” “clumsy cow,” “hopeless case.” Friends laughed awkwardly, dismissing it as odd marital humour. Then, hell began. Jokes became jabs, jabs became open humiliation.
“Look, my piglets gone for another slice of cake!” hed crow in restaurants when she dared order dessert.
“Forgive us, friendsmy half-dead mouse cant cook, so well suffer through!” hed announce, presenting meals shed slaved over.
“What can you expect from her? Barely scraped through university, works for peanuts!” hed sneer about the woman with a first-class degree, adored by her pupils.
Veronica nudged Max. “Stop him. This is unbearable.”
Max rose. “Need some air.”
He found Anna not in the loo, but in the marble-clad bathroom, gripping the sink so hard her knuckles whitened. Silent sobs shook her shoulders. Mascara streaked her cheeks, lipstick smudged. She looked brokenexactly as Arseny wanted her.
“Annie, you alright?” Max murmured, afraid to startle her.
She flinched, scrubbing at her face. “Fine. Just freshening up.”
“How much longer will you take this?” His voice trembled with anger.
“Where would I go?” Her eyes met his, hollow. “This flats his. The cars, even this stupid jumperhis. Im a primary teachermy salarys a joke. My parents are in the countryside, barely scraping by. Going back would shame them.”
“This isnt your fault!”
“To them, it is!” she whispered. “They bragged Id married upa rich city man! Now what? Admit my golden husband calls me a cow in public?”
“Was he always like this?”
She shook her head. “First yearfairy tales. Flowers, gifts, carrying me everywhere. Then it started. Your roasts dry. Dress like a peasant. Clueless about business. Now? Now he humiliates me for sport. At home” She trailed off.
“At home what?”
“Doesnt hit me. Worse. Ignores me. Walks past like Im a ghost. Then explodesa cup out of place, a towel crooked. Says Im nothing. Keeps me out of pity.”
“Annie, thats madness! Youre brilliant, kind”
“I dont even know who I am anymore,” she cut in. “I look in the mirror and see what he saysa fool, a fatty, a hag. Maybe hes right.”
From the dining room, Arsenys laughter boomed. “You should see her in bedstiff as a board, like shes waiting for divine intervention!”
Anna paled. Max clenched his fists. “Enough. Pack a bag. Were leaving.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere. Your parents, ours, a hoteldoesnt matter.”
“He wont let me.”
“Its not his choice.”
Back in the dining room, Arseny regaled guests with another “gem”: “Yesterday, she spent an hour searching for her glassesthey were on her head!”
“Were leaving,” Max stated.
“Where?” Arseny scowled.
“Taking Anna.”
“Shes not going anywhere!” he roared. “Annie, sit down!”
She took a mechanical step, but Max gripped her arm. “Were leaving.”
“Thats my wife!”
“Not your slave,” Max shot back.
Arseny surged up, livid. “This is family business! Annie, sit down NOW!”
Anna stood, fear-paralysed, until Veronica stepped in, wrapping an arm around her. “Youre staying with us tonight.”
“Shes not leaving!” Arseny bellowed.
“I am,” Anna said softly, voice clear. “Im leaving you, Arseny.”
“You? And go where? Youve got nothing!”
“Ive got myself. Thats enough.”
“Whod want youfat, common-faced cow? I kept you out of pity!”
“Thanks for saying it aloud,” she replied evenly.
She moved to the door.
“Wait! Over a few jokes?”
“Over years of cruelty. Im tired.”
“But I love you!”
“No. You love power. Theyre not the same.”
“Fine! Go back to your cows in the sticks!”
“Gladly. Theyll treat me better than you.”
She buttoned her coateach fastening a lock on the past.
“Annie, dont be stupid!” He grabbed her sleeve.
“Let go. You wont change. Goodbye.”
She walked out. Max and Veronica followed. Arseny stood alone in the empty flat.
“Shell be back,” he muttered to the guests. “They always are.”
But Anna didnt return. Not the next day. Not in a month.
He called, begged, sent flowers, waited outside her school. She walked pasta ghost herself. Three months later, she filed for divorce. First, she stayed with Max and Veronica, then rented a tiny room with a cracked ceilingbut hers. A place no one called her a cow.
“How are you?” Max asked six months later.
“Learning to live again,” she smiled. “To look in the mirror and not see his words. Its hard. But Im fighting. And winning.”
“Arseny asked 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 realcalm, unshaken.
Arseny remained alone. With his “humour” that amused no one. His belief that degradation was love. Only now did he realise the woman hed called a fool had a lionesss strength. That no woman would mirror a man who saw only her shadow.
Anna? She rebuilt. Just in time. Learned to breathe, to loveherself, life. Proved even the shards of contempt could mosaic into happiness.
