Adrian lingered over old man Edwards words for a long time. “You need a woman in the house.” Yes, he knew it was true. In the evenings, when he returned to his empty flat, the silence weighed heavily on him. The cold walls and the musty smell of untouched clothes in Sophies wardrobe reminded him of his loss more than the graveyard itself.
After a few months, his neighbours began dropping hints. “Adrian, theres a young widow just moved to the marketperhaps you should meet her” “Theres a quiet girl who comes to churchI could put in a word” But nothing reached him. Until one day, when Edward took him by the arm and led him to the home of a distant cousin, Jane.
Jane wasnt beautiful by village standards. Her face was round, her nose too large, her eyes a faded colour, and her movements slow. The women whispered, “Poor Adrianafter Sophie, look who hes ended up with.” And so the cruel nickname stuck: the plain wife.
What people didnt see was her kindness. Jane cooked patiently, fetched water from the well without complaint, andmost of allknew how to listen. Adrian, who had gone months with no one to share his grief, found in her a rare calm.
Their wedding was simpleno fuss. Two witnesses, a vicar, and a few candles. Adrian didnt feel the spark of passion, but he felt something elsean anchor. And after years of storms, an anchor is more precious than any beauty.
At first, people watched him with pity. “He only chose her so he wouldnt be alone.” “No luck with women.” But gradually, the whispers faded. Adrians house, once echoing with emptiness, now smelled of warm bread and dried herbs. On long winter evenings, Jane read softly from old books Sophie had left behind, and Adrian closed his eyes, feeling the pain grow dull.
One day, Edward, the old friend, stopped by. He stood in the doorway, watching Jane sew by the window while Adrian chopped firewood. Smiling under his white moustache, he 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, Jane was lifes unexpected giftproof that true beauty isnt in a face, but in the peace it brings to the soul.
And in that peace, Adrian finally felt alive again.
