A Lesson for the Wife
“I’ve had enough!” Edward flings his spoon down, glaring at his wife with frustration. “What do you call this? Overcooked pasta, mushy as porridge, and a couple of half-done meatballs! What have you been doing all dayscrolling on your phone?”
“How can you say that?” Emily lets out a dramatic sniffle, hurriedly tucking her mobile out of sight. “Ive been looking after Harry, you know! Hes such a handfultakes after you, obviously,” she adds sharply, watching Edwards patience wear thin. “I’m struggling, you know! Everything is falling apart. Having a child was really hard for me…”
“Harry is two and a half years old,” Edward begins calmly, keeping his temper in check. “Its about time he started nursery, and you went back to work. Things would be much easier then.”
“Oh, so you want him to pick up every bug going, do you?” Emily retorts indignantly. “Do you want us living at the doctors?”
“Children need stimulation and development, if that ever crossed your mind!”
“We do plenty with him! Harrys ahead of his age group, and the doctor even said hes doing brilliantly at his check-up,” Emily insists. This argument has come up before, and she worries Edward might actually enrol their son in nursery. She absolutely does not want to go back to work. During her maternity leave, she got used to whiling away afternoons online, and isnt about to give that up.
“And who do we have to thank for that?” Edward snaps, slamming his fist on the table hard enough to make the plate jump. “My mother! She’s the one who comes round and spends time with Harry! Youre either napping or glued to your phone. Would it hurt to tidy the house or make a proper dinner? Why should I come home to this?” He grimaces at her sad excuse for a meal.
“Im not your housekeeper! Im not your maid! Im your wife. And youyou’re my husband. It’s your job to provide a comfortable life for me!”
Emily genuinely believes her own words. After countless talk shows and hours trawling through womens forums, shes revised her idea of what being a wife means. She used to think it was about caring for her husband, running the house smoothly, and raising the children. Now, she considers that servants work, and thinks far too highly of herself to be put on the same level as hired help.
“Is that so?” Edward bites out, his anger boiling over. “So, I work all day to support us, and you lounge about doing nothing? Is that how it is?”
“Ill be working on self-development,” Emily declares proudly. “Youll be boasting about me to your mateswait and see. My wife can offer an opinion on anything, you’ll say.”
“Oh, really? When did you last read a book? What have you learnt recently?” Edward stands up and leans over her. “Well? Cat got your tongue? Social media doesnt count as highbrow content. Nor do those trashy chat shows where everyones shouting at each other. Answer mewill you manage the home and look after Harry like a proper wife or not?”
“No! Like I said, Im not your servant…”
Getting louder, Emily starts reeling off grievances by the dozen: he doesnt earn enough, acts like a tyrant, is never home Her husband listens to it all in silence, then simply says, “Divorce.”
“What?” she gasps, on the verge of starting another round of complaints.
“Divorce,” Edward repeats coolly. “Ill find a decent woman wholl be a good wife and a loving mother to my son. You only see Harry for a couple hours a daythe rest of the time, his grandmothers do everything. Youre no mother. You dont deserve the title. And youre no wife to me either.”
At first, Emily is worried, but quickly shrugs it off. Surely Edward is just trying to scare herafter all, hed never actually go through with a divorce, would he? And besides, how could he be sure hed even get custody? Shes his mother, and thats that!
Edward changes. He barely notices his wife and doesnt even say hello in passing. Harry goes off to the seaside with his grandmother for a fortnight, and Emily is only too happy for the peace and quietno one around to distract her from her phone at last. But within a few days, she starts missing her son, ringing Edwards mum more and more often for news about Harry.
Two weeks after the argument, a letter from the court arrives. Edward has kept his promise and filed for divorce. At the first hearing, Emily is in for another shockher own mother takes her husbands side.
“I firmly believe Harry should stay with his father,” her mother declares, throwing Emily a disapproving look. “Unfortunately, Emily hasnt shown any motherly instinct. Shes not looked after her son; all the work has fallen on me and Mrs. Thompson, Edwards mother. Edward works long hours, yes, but he still manages to spend quality time with the boy.”
The judge nods, glancing at Emily with a hint of a grin. The girl is right to worry: she has nothingno home, no job, no relationship with her child. The father stands every chance in the battle for custody.
“Im asking for timeto reconcile! Please dont grant the divorce! Give me a chance! Emily sobs. “Edward, I promise, Ill change. Ill put all those silly ideas out of my head and be the perfect wife! Just trust me, please!”
“Alright…”
***********************
A month earlier.
“My daughters gone completely off the rails; Im ashamed of her,” Nina shakes her head. “Edward, I understandwhats the use of a wife who cant even keep the house in order, or look after her own child? All she does is sit at home. If you want a divorce, I wont judge you. Just let me see Harrynothing more.”
“I do love Emily, despite everything,” Edward sighs. “But I cant deny the situation is dire. You know, I want to give her a chance to put things right.”
“And why not? I have an idea thatll sort her out. File for divorce. Emily will be completely against it, so youll get three months to reconcile. Thatll make her see sense.”
**************************
Emily learns her lesson. The house is tidy again, the air filled with tasty smells, and shes friendlier and far more attentive. At last, she takes notice of her son, much to Harrys delight. He adored his scatterbrained mum, after allDay by day, Emilys bitterness gives way to hope. She wakes up early, brushes the crumbs from the kitchen table, kisses Harrys cheeks, and feels something like purpose swell up inside her. At first its awkwardHarry hesitates, unsure if his mother’s hug will last more than a moment. But her arms stay wrapped around him, warm and certain. Gradually, his laughter rings a little louder.
Edward keeps his distance, observing quietly. He notices the change: dinners that dont stick to his teeth, Harry squealing with excitement when Emily chases him through the house, curtains thrown open to welcome the sunlight. Emily starts taking Harry to the park, chatting with mothers shed barely noticed before. Conversation is awkward, but soon shes swapping recipes and advice, her world growing wider and softer.
One afternoon, Emily finds herself watching Harry napping, a book forgotten in her lap. The old urge to reach for her phone flickers and fades. Instead, she sits in silence, noticing every rise and fall of her son’s breathing. She remembers all the ways shed let the days slip past and feels, at last, the ache of regretmatched by a fresh resolve.
When reconciliation day arrives, Edward pauses before unlocking the front door, unsure what to expect. Instead of accusations or empty excuses, hes greeted by the smell of fresh bread and the sight of Emily, flour-dusted and smiling uncertainly. Harry rushes over, squealing, Daddy, look! Mummy made us pizza!
Edward kneels to hug them both, and for the first time in ages, Emily joins in of her own accord. Her eyes brim with gratitude, not for being spared, but for earning a second chance.
In the months that follow, the family stitches itself back togethernot perfectly, but with an honesty that had been missing for too long. Emily never forgets how close she came to losing everything. She learns that a real wife and mother isnt measured by perfection, nor by martyrdom or pride, but by the quiet, everyday ways she shows her love.
And, as the years slip by, Harry grows into a bright-eyed boy who remembers long afternoons with both his parentsaccompanied by the gentle, persistent smell of fresh bread rising in an ever-warm kitchen.
