Anna took the plunge into living together, only to have reality shatter her dreams.
Anna had always been a woman loved by everyone around her, but life unfolded in such a way that she found herself alone. In her youth, she devoted herself to books and knowledge, cherished by her parents, especially her mother, as treasures. She grew up in a small town near Oxford, surrounded by quietude and the pages of old novels, far from the hustle and bustle of worldly passions.
One day, a man entered her life—a tall, wealthy gentleman with an enchanting smile. His courtship was fervent, and the wedding seemed as inevitable as dawn following night. But fate dealt a harsh blow: the sudden death of her father and her mother’s severe illness unraveled all plans. Anna stayed to care for her ailing mother, while her fiancé, unable to endure the trials, drifted away from her life like a ghost, leaving only a bitter taste of betrayal.
Years later, after her mother’s passing, Anna suddenly felt an aching longing for the warmth of another presence. She observed her friends finding freedom after divorces, spreading their wings, yet she yearned for closeness, for someone to share her solitude. Fate then brought her to a widower named David. He was a man of similar disposition, fond of 19th-century literature, often quoting Dickens and Hardy, and their conversations by the fireplace ignited the spark of romance. Despite warnings from those close to her—”Why bother with this at your age? Live for yourself!”—Anna and David decided to marry, believing that love could conquer all.
But reality proved cold and unforgiving. Living together turned out to be not a blissful idyll but a daily ordeal. David’s habit of leaving things strewn about and thriving in chaos became Anna’s nightmare. Her world, where everything had its place, where each book stood perfectly aligned on the shelf, and every cup knew its spot, crumbled under the weight of his disorder. Each day became a battle for patience, a struggle to find even a sliver of harmony amidst the chaos.
She tried talking to him, baring her soul, pleading with him to share the responsibility for their home. But her words vanished into the void—David remained deaf to her pleas, oblivious to her pain. After yet another incident of finding her beloved books carelessly tossed in a corner and the kitchen buried in dirty dishes, Anna couldn’t bear it anymore. Tears choked her as she said, “I want to leave. I need my peace back.” She longed for the quiet, solitary life where no one intruded upon her world, where she was in control of her own destiny.
Yet David, citing work commitments, asked for time to “sort things out.” He stayed in her home, only deepening her suffering. Every step he took, every sound of his presence, cut her heart like a knife. Nine months—this was the duration of this agony, this marriage that became a cage for her. Finally, the divorce was finalized, and Anna broke free.
Returning to her solitude, she felt her lungs fill with air and her soul with a joy long forgotten. The walls of her small apartment became her refuge, her fortress once more. She sat with a cup of tea, watching the autumn rain outside, and for the first time in a long while, she smiled—genuinely, from the heart. The freedom she reclaimed was worth more than any illusions about happiness with another. Anna realized that her life belonged solely to her, and she would never allow anyone to disrupt this fragile, yet precious peace again.
