Anna decided to start a life together, but reality shattered her dreams
Anna had always been a woman adored by everyone around her, yet fate led her to solitude. In her youth, she devoted herself to books and learning, which her parents, especially her mother, treasured like gold. She grew up in a small town near Nottingham, surrounded by silence and pages of old novels, far from the hustle and bustle of the world.
One day, a man burst into her life—tall, well-off, with a charming smile. He courted her eagerly, and marriage seemed as certain as sunrise after night. But fate dealt a harsh blow: her father’s sudden death and her mother’s serious illness dashed all plans. Anna stayed to care for her, and her suitor, unable to cope with the trials, vanished from her life like a specter, leaving only the bitter sting of betrayal.
Years later, after her mother’s passing, Anna suddenly felt an intense longing for the warmth of another person. She watched her friends reclaim their freedom after divorces, spreading their wings, yet a deep yearning lingered in her heart for closeness, for someone to share her solitude. That chance came with a widower named Stephen. He was a kindred spirit—he loved 19th-century literature, quoting Dickens and Austen, and their talks by the fireplace ignited a romance. Despite friends warning her—“Why do this at your age? Live for yourself!”—Anna and Stephen decided to marry, believing love could conquer all.
But reality proved cold and unforgiving. Life together turned into a daily ordeal instead of an idyll. Stephen, with his habit of leaving things scattered and living in chaos, became Anna’s nightmare. Her world, where everything had its place, where every book stood neatly on the shelf, and every mug knew its spot, was crumbling under the weight of his disorder. Every day became a battle for patience, a struggle to find even a drop of harmony in the chaos.
She tried talking to him, baring her soul, begging him to share the responsibility of their home. But her words vanished into the void—Stephen was deaf to her pleas, her pain. After one more incident, where she found her cherished books carelessly piled in a corner and the kitchen buried under dirty dishes, Anna couldn’t take it anymore. Tears choked her as she said, “I want to leave. I want my peace back.” She longed for that quiet, solitary life where no one intruded on her world, where she was mistress of her destiny.
But Stephen, citing his own affairs, asked for time to “sort things out.” He remained in her home, only deepening her anguish. Every step he took, every sound of his presence cut her heart like a knife. Nine months—this was how long the agony lasted, this marriage that became her cage. Finally, the divorce was finalized, and Anna broke free.
Returning to her solitude, she felt her lungs fill with air and her soul with forgotten joy. The walls of her small flat once again became her refuge, her fortress. She sat with a cup of tea, gazing out at the autumn rain, and smiled for the first time in a long while—a genuine, heartfelt smile. The freedom she reclaimed was worth more than any illusions of happiness with another. Anna realized: her life belonged to her alone, and she would never let anyone disturb this fragile, yet precious peace again.
