Adrian lingered on the old man Edwards words for days. *”You need a woman in your home.”* Yes, he knew it was true. Every evening, returning to his empty flat, the silence crushed him. The cold walls and the scent of untouched clothes in Sophies wardrobe haunted him more than the cemetery ever could.
Months passed, and the neighbours began dropping hints. *”Adrian, a young widows moved to the marketmaybe youd fancy a chat”* *”Theres a quiet girl who comes to churchshall I introduce you?”* Nothing reached him. Until one day, when Edward took him by the arm and led him to the house of a distant cousin, Joan.
Joan wasnt pretty by the villages standards. Her face was round, her nose too broad, her eyes a faded colour, and her movements slow. The women whispered, *”Poor Adrianafter Sophie, to settle for* her*.”* And so the cruel nickname stuckthe *Plain Wife.*
But what they didnt see was her kindness. Joan cooked patiently, drew water from the well without complaint, andabove allshe knew how to listen. Adrian, whod spent months with no one to share his grief, found in her a rare peace.
Their wedding was simple. Two witnesses, a vicar, and a handful of candles. Adrian felt no spark of passionbut something else: an anchor. And after years of storms, an anchor is worth more than any beauty.
At first, the villagers pitied him. *”He only chose her so he wouldnt be alone.”* *”No luck with women, that one.”* But gradually, the whispers faded. Adrians house, once echoing with emptiness, now smelled of warm bread and dried herbs. On long winter evenings, Joan read softly from Sophies old books, and Adrian closed his eyes, sensing the pain grow dull.
One day, Edward stopped by. He lingered in the doorway, watching Joan sew by the window as Adrian brought in firewood. The old man smiled beneath his white moustache and murmured, *”Pretty or plainit doesnt matter. What matters is youve found each other.”*
Adrian turned to him and, for the first time since the funeral, truly smiled. Perhaps the village would always call her the *Plain Wife*but to him, Joan was lifes unexpected gift. Proof that true beauty lies not in the face, but in the quiet it brings to your soul.
And in that quiet, Adrian finally felt alive again.
