“Sorry about my cow! Eating like there’s no tomorrow!” Arthur’s voice, usually smooth and confident, cut through the festive air like a whip, stinging everyone at the table.
Emily froze, her fork mid-air, the slice of roast beef trembling on its prongs. She sat motionless, delicate as spun glass, her cheeks burning under the piercing staressome pitying, some uncomfortable, some just curious. Her body felt foreign, heavy, as if her heart had lodged itself in her throat.
James, Arthurs closest friend, choked on his champagne, the golden bubbles hissing in protest. His wife, Victoria, beside him, gaped in perfect, silent shock. Around the lavishly set table, laden with food, a thick silence settled, stifling as custard, where even the rustle of a napkin felt like a betrayal.
“Arthur, what on earth are you saying?” James croaked, breaking the quiet.
“Whats the problem? Cant a man speak the truth?” Arthur leaned back in his high-backed chair, smirking, scanning the room for approval. “My silly girls piled on the pounds againembarrassing to be seen with her! Cooks enough for an army, not guests.”
Emily burnednot with shame, but with humiliation, bitter tears clawing at her throat. She swallowed them down, as shed learned to over three years of marriage. First, shed cried into pillows, then in the bath, until finally, the tears dried up. What was the point when they only fed his cruelty?
“Come off it, Arthur,” muttered Stephen from across the table, trying to salvage the evening. “Emilys lovely, a real heartwarmer.”
“Lovely?” Arthur snorted, his laugh grating. “Have you seen her without all that makeup? Wakes up looking like something the cat dragged in. I jump half out of my skin!”
Someone stifled a nervous giggle but fell silent under Victorias glare. The others suddenly found their plates fascinating. Then Emily stood. Slowly, as if underwater, every movement weighted.
“I need the loo,” she whispered, slipping from the dining room, her dignity in tatters.
“Oh, touchy!” Arthur called after her, rolling his eyes. “Shell be back in a minute, sulking till dawn. Women need keeping in line, or they turn into absolute nightmares”
James stared at his friend of fifteen yearsonce charming, now unrecognisable. Arthur had been the life of every party, marrying sweet Emily, porcelain-pretty with sky-blue eyes. A match made in heaven, everyone said.
But cracks had appearedsmall at first. “Harmless” nicknames: “my daft mare,” “clumsy oaf.” Then the jabs turned vicious.
“Look at my greedy pig, going for seconds!” hed crow in restaurants.
“Forgive my wifes cookingshe tries!” hed sigh over meals shed slaved over.
“What can you expect from a dim little schoolteacher?” hed sneer about her degree, her pupils adoration.
Victoria nudged James. “Stop him. This is vile.”
James rose. “Need some air.”
He found Emily in the marble-clad bathroom, gripping the sink, smudged mascara tracking her cheeks. She looked brokenexactly as Arthur wanted her.
“Emily you alright?”
She startled, scrubbing her face. “Fine. Just washing up.”
“How much longer will you take this?” His voice shook.
“And go where?” Her eyes were hollow. “This house? His. The car? His. Even this stupid jumperhis gift. Im a primary teacher, James. My salarys a joke. My parents barely scrape by in Yorkshire. Go back? Id shame them.”
“Youve nothing to be ashamed of!”
“To them, I would!” she hissed. “They bragged Id married upa wealthy Londoner! Now what? That my golden husband calls me a cow in front of everyone?”
“Was he always like this?”
She shook her head. “First yearflowers, gifts, sweet nothings. Then it started. Your roasts dry. Dress like a farmers wife. Clueless about business. Now? Now he humiliates me for sport. At home” She trailed off.
“At home what?”
“Doesnt hit me. Worse. Acts like Im air. Weeks of silence, then explosionsa misplaced cup, a crooked towel. Says Im nothing. Keeps me out of pity.”
“Emily, thats rubbish! Youre clever, kind”
“I dont even know who I am anymore,” she cut in. “I look in the mirror and see what he calls me: stupid, fat, ugly. Maybe hes right.”
From the dining room, Arthurs roar of laughter: “Imagine! In bed like a plank, waiting for divine intervention!”
Emily paled. James clenched his fists. “Enough. Get your things. Were leaving.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere. Your parents, ours, a hoteldoesnt matter.”
“He wont let me.”
“Not his choice.”
Back at the table, Arthur was mid-“joke”: “Spent an hour hunting her glasseson her head!”
“Were going,” James stated.
“Where?” Arthur glowered.
“Taking Emily.”
“Shes not going anywhere! Emily, sit down!”
She took a mechanical step, but James gripped her arm. “Were leaving.”
“Thats my wife!” Arthur surged up, furious.
“Wife, not slave,” James replied coolly.
“Sit down now!” Arthurs shout rattled the chandelier.
Emily stood frozenuntil Victoria hugged her. “Youre staying with us tonight.”
“Shes not leaving!” Arthur bellowed.
“I am,” Emily said softly. Then, clear as crystal: “Im leaving you, Arthur.”
“You? And go where? Youve got nothing!”
“Ive got me. Thats enough.”
“Whod want you, you fat, plain I kept you out of charity!”
“Thanks for saying it aloud.” Her voice didnt waver.
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! Off to Yorkshire with the cows?”
“Yes. Theyll respect me more than you ever did.”
She buttoned her coat meticulously, sealing away the past.
“Emily, dont be daft!” Arthur grabbed her sleeve.
“Let go. You wont change. Goodbye.”
She walked out. James and Victoria followed. Arthur stood alone in the empty flat.
“Shell be back,” he muttered to the guests. “They always are.”
But she didnt. Not the next day. Not ever.
He called, begged, sent roses, waited outside her school. She walked past like a ghost. After three months, she filed for divorce. First, she stayed with James and Victoria, then rented a tiny room with peeling wallpaperbut hers. A place no one called her a cow.
“How are you?” James asked six months later.
“Learning,” she smiled. “To look in the mirror and not hear his voice. Its hard. But Im winning.”
“Arthur asks about you.”
“Dont tell me. I dont care.”
“They say hes changed.”
“Maybe. So have I. And Im not going back.”
She smiledgenuine, calm.
Arthur remained alone. With his “humour” that amused no one. His belief that love meant control. Only then did he realise: the woman hed called a fool had the heart of a lion. No woman stays a mirror for a man who only sees her shadow.
Emily rebuilt herselfjust in time. She learned to breathe, to live, to love herself again. Proving even from the wreckage of scorn, happiness can be pieced together.
