– What kind of wife are you to me? Did we ever walk down the aisle together? Did we exchange vows or slip a ring onto your finger?
Clara hesitated. She longed for all those things, but life went on without them.
– No! No! And no! – shouted Oliver. – You are nothing to me! By what right do you call yourself my wife?
– Ollie, don’t punish me with silence! – Clara tearfully pleaded. – Let’s talk this through!
– Is there something left to be said? – Oliver fumed. – Haven’t you already said more than you should have?
– But I didn’t say anything awful, – Clara remarked quietly.
– Remember this: silence is golden! Especially for you! – he turned away.
– Darling, stop sulking! – she scooted closer.
– It would be better if you didn’t speak at all! – he threw up his hands. – Why do women have the knack to ruin everything with just one line?
Do they teach this at school or is there a course on how to drive men crazy?
Clara saw Oliver’s silence as hurt feelings after she raised her voice that morning. But he had smashed both his mug and hers.
– How could you do that? All hands function normally, but yours seem to be problematic!
Fine, you broke your mug, but why did you touch mine? Was it on purpose, so we’d need to buy new favourite mugs all at once?
Such a trivial domestic complaint. Normally, they wouldn’t even take offense, letting it go in one ear and out the other.
But Oliver left for work in a huff, returning home without uttering a word to Clara.
He was angry, sulking, and holding a grudge. He ignored everything she did and refused to join her for dinner, despite her calling him three times.
But reconciliation was necessary!
– Ollie, just forget the mugs! Let’s head to the department store on Saturday and buy new ones! Your hands are perfectly fine!
– What mugs are you going on about? – Oliver looked at Clara with wild eyes. – Don’t you get it? It’s what you said that’s the problem!
– I can apologize, – Clara stammered. – Please, darling, don’t be mad!
– An apology? – he laughed bitterly. – If it could fix the mess your words created, I’d be the happiest man on earth!
But as it stands, you’ve crushed me! Destroyed me! Completely belittled me!
– For goodness’ sake, what did I say? – Clara realized it wasn’t about the mugs. But she couldn’t fathom what it was about.
– Who said to my boss over the phone today that she was speaking to Oliver’s wife? – Oliver shouted, spitting words at Clara.
– You were in the shower and the phone was ringing off the hook, – Clara explained, confused, – I answered and asked her to wait while I got you.
She asked who I was. So, I said the wife. I handed you the phone, but she had already hung up. What’s the big deal?
– And you wonder what the big deal is? – Oliver’s face flushed while a vein throbbed on his temple. – What makes you my wife?
Did we ever walk down the aisle together? Exchange vows or slip a ring onto your finger?
Clara hesitated. She longed for all those things, but life went on without them.
– No! No! And no! – shouted Oliver. – You are nothing to me! By what right do you call yourself my wife?
***
– How long will this go on? – asked Sophie with a smile.
– Mum, – Clara replied with a hint of irritation, – times have changed, and your puritanical lectures don’t suit you. After Dad passed, you had quite the adventurous life!
– Don’t slander your mother! I know what I need, – Sophie smiled warmly. – I’m of an age where no gossip sticks. But you’re still young, with a life ahead!
– Mum, at fifty-four you’re hardly old! You’re eligible to marry again, according to modern trends, maybe multiple times!
– If a decent man came along, I might consider, – she smoothed her hair, – but for now, I’ll make do with stopgaps!
– And you lecture me! – Clara laughed.
Sophie’s smile vanished:
– Clara, I know many live together without paperwork, have children, and it’s called a normal family now.
But legally, it’s called cohabitation, which offers no assurances!
– Mum, love’s better than any legal assurance, – Clara answered.
– Love might be there today and gone tomorrow, but a husband, an official one, provides security; alimony for children, surely.
If it’s about property or assets, without a legal tie, you might not get anything if he resists!
– Mum, Ollie and I have a great relationship! We’ve been together for six years. Why fuss over papers? As for money, we earn the same.
– Not convincing, not specific, which means it’s concerning! – Sophie wagged a finger. – Clara, at least lead him to the idea!
Casually call him your husband, even jokingly. Ask him to hug his beloved wife.
Let him get used to the words. Then you can finally secure it!
– If my words scare him, there’ll be drama, resentment, then loneliness! – Clara shook her head. – You know, Mum, happiness is fragile, you must cherish it, not test it!
– Ultimately, it’s your life, – shrugged Sophie, – and I’ll be here for you, with or without grandchildren.
But remember, frolics aside, adult life comes with responsibility.
And in your setup, no one’s obligated. It makes sense but is chaotic!
***
Clara appreciated her mother’s kindness and support, though her advice made her ponder.
Marriage is essentially her security. Favourable mostly to the woman, truth be told.
Her friend Annie also advised formalising things with Oliver, but with different reasoning:
– Imagine you both get a mortgage for a house or car, maybe a holiday home. Or at the very least, fill your home with gadgets. The loans, naturally, you’ll sign under your household head.
– Annie, – Clara gave her a disapproving look, – leave the dramatics out of it!
– Fine, – she agreed. – Ultimately, in Oliver’s name. And if you decide to part ways!
– Enough with the pessimism!
– Alright, – Annie waved her hand. – Imagine something drastic, and you separate, – Clara’s disapproving glare made Annie adjust slightly. – What if Oliver gifts the house, car, or holiday home to his beloved nephew or aunt?
And he could, and you’d have no say!
– I could voice my thoughts, – Clara insisted.
– Voice them indeed, – Annie shrugged. – But proving it’s shared property, acquired via joint funds, will be impossible! You’d miss out on what’s rightfully yours!
– What about court and witnesses?
– Only a court might help reclaim what’s yours. But proving your identity is tough enough, let alone your rights. Especially when the inheritor brings witnesses claiming you contributed nothing!
– You’re outlining the worst case! – Clara said.
– I’m describing a common courtroom scenario for couples like you two.
– So, I’m supposed to keep receipts, maintain records, and document every money talk with Oliver? – Clara asked.
– Or, simply lead him to the registry office, – Annie’s smile now genuine, suggesting the best route.
– Mum insists I should drag him there. But first, I must ease him into it through referring to us as “husband, wife.”
– Go on, get to work!
***
Adding “hubby” to the versions of endearments came easily. Referring to herself as “wifey” felt natural. The words rolled off the tongue smoothly.
Initially, Clara feared Ollie would protest. Instead, he chuckled but never echoed the same.
Clara ramped up efforts. Constantly, appropriately or not, addressing him as her husband, herself as his wife.
She embraced it so fully, she didn’t even flinch answering his boss as his wife. It felt normal, mundane.
***
– Ollie, we’ve been together for ages, – Clara spoke, – I thought we were a family. Sure, no paperwork, but that’s norm now. Ahead lies kids and happy years!
– Then keep thinking that way! Why did you drag your “wife” talk to my boss? Just don’t answer! Hand over the phone and it’s not your issue!
– Darling, I always call you my husband, why’s it different now?
– Because thanks to you, I’m getting fired! You didn’t just ruin my day! You’ve cost me my career’s early success!
I’m not even considering a registry office with you! I won’t live with you anymore! I’ll start packing now!
– Ollie, aren’t you overreacting? – Clara asked, stunned. – I told your boss I’m your wife. What changed?
– The fact that Miriam had job views on me, hoping to conquer single territory!
Now, as a “married” man, her dreams died! She signed my termination today!
***
A week after Oliver left, Miriam paid Clara a visit:
– Clara, I owe you an apology, – Miriam began, – not for firing Oliver, but for lies you’ve endured without knowing, – she paused.
– Understood, – Clara waved it off.
– I had particular plans for him. Our ties? Unofficial. As were those of many female coworkers…
Clara swallowed hard to quell the nausea.
– We assumed he’s unattached and competed to be by his side. If aware of a wife, we’d have backed off…
– We weren’t officially wed…
– So, cohabiting then…
– Not anymore, – Clara lowered her gaze.
– You know, – Miriam said assuredly, – it’s for the best. Because he wasn’t a husband or partner, just … a peculiar person on another level! Good riddance!
Clara couldn’t help but agree.
Not a husband, not a partner, just … a peculiar person.
