After her divorce from her husband, Marianna took a long time to recover. She had loved her Edward with all her heart—such was her nature. When she loved, she loved completely, giving everything to her husband and son. Of course, her son was different; no woman could ever stop loving her child, no matter what.
Oliver, after finishing school, decided to dedicate his life to helping others and enrolled in medical school. Marianna had assumed he would always stay close, but her son had other plans. He chose a university miles away from home. Edward hardly seemed to care—he had grown indifferent to everything.
*”Marianna, if Oliver wants to be a doctor, let him. It’s his life, his choice.”*
But this had been Oliver’s dream since childhood.
*”Mum, you know I’ve always wanted to help people. This shouldn’t surprise you. I know you want me nearby, but I’m a man now. We’ll see each other less, but I’ll visit when I can. You’re the best mother in the world—never forget that. No matter what, I’ll always stand by you.”* He finished packing his suitcase as he spoke.
He was leaving for his final term before graduation.
*”I know I can rely on you, love. Thank you for your kind words. But I still have your father. We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us.”*
Once Oliver graduated, he married, found work in London, and soon welcomed a daughter. Marianna longed to see them more, but distance kept them apart, so she waited for his holidays.
She and Edward had been married twenty-five years. On the surface, their life seemed settled. Marianna was educated, intelligent, lovely—Edward had courted her persistently at university despite her many suitors. She was never one for arguments, smoothing tensions at home and at work with grace and tact. Edward, however, was abrupt and abrasive. Yet she had learned to manage him, even helping him build his car repair business from the ground up.
One day, Marianna met her friends, Katherine and Olivia, at a café. Katherine had news—her first grandchild had been born. The three had been friends for years. Olivia worked with Marianna, while Katherine, a homemaker, lived in a countryside estate with her husband. Today, though, they met in the city, as Katherine was visiting briefly.
They chatted as usual—about life, children, husbands. Then Katherine suddenly asked, *”Marianna, tell me… do you trust Edward completely?”*
*”Of course. We have no secrets. Why do you ask?”* Marianna grew wary.
Katherine and Olivia exchanged looks. *”I’ve seen him several times at the supermarket and cafés with a young woman—holding her arm. He didn’t notice me; he was too engrossed in her. It was always the same girl.”*
Marianna stared in confusion. *”Perhaps it’s someone from his office? He employs a few young women. He works late sometimes, but it’s just clients.”*
After that conversation, Marianna watched Edward more closely, questioning his delays before reassuring herself again.
Then came the day a young woman arrived at her door, visibly pregnant. She smiled sweetly at Marianna and said, *”Good afternoon.”*
*”Good afternoon. Can I help you? Are you sure you have the right house?”*
*”Oh, you’re so pretty and young! You must be Marianna? Edward told me his wife was ill and elderly.”* The girl prattled on. *”You *are* Marianna, Edward’s wife?”*
*”Yes. And as you see, I’m quite well. And you are?”*
*”I’m Hannah. I’m carrying Edward’s child. We’ve been together a long time. He keeps promising to tell you, but never does. He tells me he’ll leave you, then we’ll marry. Our baby’s due soon.”*
Marianna was speechless. Hannah continued, *”I must admit, I’m surprised. I expected some frail old woman—Edward’s nearly fifty. He’s still handsome, but I thought his wife would be… well, ancient.”*
*”Hannah… how old are you? And where did you meet?”* Marianna forced herself to ask, shaking off her shock.
*”Twenty-one. We met online, like everyone does these days.”*
*”At twenty, how could you pursue a man pushing fifty? Our son is twenty-five!”* Marianna struggled to keep her voice level.
*”Oh, don’t lecture me. I’ve no patience for guilt. I want an older man with money. How else could I raise a child—no home, no savings? So, let Edward go. He doesn’t love you anyway. He says you won’t give him a divorce. That’s why I’m here—since he lacks the spine to end it himself.”*
*”Fine, Hannah. Take Edward and go.”* Marianna ushered her out firmly.
Hannah, expecting hysterics, merely shrugged and said, *”Goodbye.”*
Once the door closed, Marianna collapsed onto the sofa, weeping bitterly. After gathering herself, she rehearsed the coming confrontation.
When Edward arrived, she was calm. *”Hello, dear. See that suitcase? Take it and leave.”*
*”Marianna, what’s gotten into you? Why are you throwing me out?”* His eyes darted nervously, suspecting the truth.
*”Hannah came by. She’s pregnant, in case you’ve forgotten. You’re free. Go. I don’t want to see you again.”* She opened the door, watching his confusion.
*”Marianna, wait—I don’t want to leave!”*
She turned him toward the exit, pushed him out, and shut the door.
A month later, they met at a café. Edward haggled over the house—a spacious two-story property her father had bought for her.
*”The house stays with me. You keep the business. I won’t interfere.”*
*”But I’m renting, and the baby’s coming. Let’s split the house—it’s big enough!”*
*”Have you forgotten our son? Either you leave me the house and take the business—which you’d never have started without my father’s help—or we divide *everything* equally, but the house is still mine. Do you understand, or must my father explain it?”* She gave him three days to decide.
In the end, her father called Edward, who capitulated. *”I won’t contest the house.”*
Six months passed. Marianna adjusted to solitude, though sometimes she reflected:
*”What have I learned? Never love a man more than yourself. He’ll never value your devotion. The more I sacrificed, the more Edward took for granted. He’ll never remember how I adored him—how I watched him sleep, fixed his collar, smiled into his eyes. But it doesn’t matter now. I’ll love myself first—and my son, his family, most of all my granddaughter.”*
She packed for a visit, buying gifts for all, eager to see them. Occasionally, she reminded herself:
*”I’m fine. Better each day. Life’s too short for grudges. I’ve let go. In five years, none of this will hurt.”*
With her family, she never felt lonely. They adored her as she did them—especially her granddaughter, who clung to her. Oliver knew of the divorce but never brought it up. Once, he called Edward, but a young voice answered—*”He’s in the bath. Can I help?”*—and Oliver hung up, understanding everything.
At the station, when Marianna arrived, he saw in her face that she had moved on.
On the train home, a man across the aisle kept glancing at her. His temples were silvered, his gaze wistful. When she disembarked, he waited nearby, then approached.
*”Excuse me—may I introduce myself? I’m John. And you are?”*
*”Marianna,”* she replied, surprised by her own answer. His grey eyes held warmth, kindness, quiet strength.
*”Pleasure to meet you. My car’s just outside—let me drive you. I’ve been away on business.”*
*”I was visiting my son and granddaughter.”*
*”Granddaughter? You don’t look old enough to be a grandmother!”*
John had been alone six years—his wife, daughter, and grandson lost in an accident. Grief had nearly broken him.
They talked like old friends. Then came more meetings, love, happiness. A year later, at his fiftieth birthday celebration, before friends and family, he proposed.
With John, Marianna felt secure—finally understanding what *safe as houses* truly meant. He shielded her from every worry, proving men like him existed.
