Never Loved My Wife and Always Told Her So: Its Not Her Fault We Got On Well Enough
I never loved my wife, and I told her as much more than once. It wasnt her faultwe rubbed along tolerably well.
My name is Edward Whitcombe, and I live in York, where the ghosts of harder times still linger in the cobbled streets. I never loved my wife, Margaret, and I admitted it to her like a bitter pill I could barely swallow. She didnt deserve itnever made a fuss, never scolded, always kind, attentive, practically a saint. Yet my heart stayed as cold as the Ouse in December. There was no love, and it gnawed at me like a guilty secret.
Every morning, I woke with the same thought: leave. I dreamed of finding a woman whod set my soul on fire, whod leave me breathless. But fate played a rotten trick and turned everything upside down, leaving me stranded. Margaret was comfortable as an old armchair. She kept the house spotless, turned heads wherever she went, and mates would say, Whered you find her, you lucky sod? I hadnt a clue why I deserved her loyalty. Just an ordinary bloke, nothing special, and she loved me as if I hung the moon. How was that fair?
Her love smothered me. Worse still was the thought that if I left, someone else would sweep her up. Someone more successful, better-looking, richersomeone whod appreciate what I couldnt. Imagining her in another mans arms twisted me inside. She was mineeven if Id never loved her. That possessiveness was stronger than sense. But can you live an entire life beside someone who doesnt make your heart race? I thought I could, but I was wronga storm was brewing inside me, and I couldnt hold it back.
Ill tell her tomorrow, I decided as I lay in bed. At breakfast, I scraped together what little courage I had. Margaret, sit down, we need to talk, I began, meeting her calm gaze. Of course, darling, whats the matter? she replied, all sweetness as usual. Suppose we divorced. I move out, we go our separate ways She laughed, as if Id told a joke. What odd thoughts! Is this some game? Listen, Im serious, I snapped. Very well, Ill humour you. And then what? she asked, still smiling. Tell me the truthwould you find someone else if I left? She went very still. Edward, whats got into you? Why ask that? Her voice wavered with concern. Because I dont love you. Never have, I blurted, like a punch to the gut.
Margaret paled. What? You cant mean that. I dont understand. I want to leave, but the idea of you with another man drives me mad, I said, my voice shaking. She stayed quiet, then answered with sad wisdom: I wont find anyone better than you, dont worry. Go if you must. Ill be fine. Promise? slipped out before I could stop it. Of course, she said softly, eyes steady on mine. Waitbut where would I even go? I hesitated. Youve nowhere to stay? she asked, surprised. No, weve always been together. Suppose Ill have to stick around, I muttered, feeling the ground vanish beneath me. Dont fret, Margaret said. After the divorce, well sell this place and buy two smaller ones. Really? Didnt expect you to be so decent. Why? I stammered. Because I love you. When you love someone, you dont keep them in chains, she said, her words as final as a judges gavel.
Months passed. We divorced. Then came the rumours: Margaret had lied. Shed found someone elsetall, confident, with a smile like sunshine. The flat shed inherited from her grandmother? Not a penny shared. I was left with nothingno home, no family, no faith in people. The betrayal cut deep, a knife in the back, and even now I hear her voice: Ill be fine. A lie. Cold, calculated, and I fell for it like a fool.
How do you trust women after that? I havent the foggiest. Life with her was comfortable but hollow, and now I dont even have that. Im in a rented room, staring at the ceiling, replaying that conversation. Her calm, her wordsall a mask. My mates say, Your fault, Edward, what did you expect? And theyre right. I didnt love her, but I wanted to keep her like a trophy. And she walked away, leaving me in the loneliness Id feared so much. Maybe thats my penancefor the coldness, the selfishness, for not cherishing her heart. Now Im alone, and the silence hurts worse than her leaving. What do they make of my actions? Blowed if I know whos the bigger foolme or her.
