“In Sickness and in Health”
“Fred, look what dress I bought! Do you like it?” Frederick glanced up and smiled.
“Turn around, let me see it! Stunning. It suits you perfectly,” he said softly.
“I fell in love with it the moment I saw it! I searched the whole shop—thought I’d leave empty-handed—and then, right at the last minute, there it was. I’ll wear it to Millie’s birthday this summer.”
“No, don’t wear it,” Frederick said, suddenly serious.
“Why not?” Emily’s face fell.
“Because you’ll outshine the birthday girl. And that just isn’t done.”
Emily laughed, and Fred thought how beautiful her laughter was.
“Oh, shut up!”
She stepped toward the mirror, admiring the dress again. The sky blue fabric really did complement her, making her grey eyes seem almost sapphire.
Fred watched her, pride twisting into dread. He still hadn’t told her. He didn’t know how. He’d hoped, foolishly, that things would turn around…
“When were we planning our holiday again?” she asked, glancing at him through the reflection.
“September…” His voice was tight.
“September… I’ll need new swimsuits then. I only have two—that won’t be enough.”
Fred closed his eyes. No. He couldn’t keep lying. He wanted to protect her, but it was impossible now. He had to say it.
“Emily, sit down.”
She turned, her smile fading as she saw his expression. “Fred, what’s wrong?” she asked, lowering herself beside him.
“I have bad news…”
“Oh God—what is it? Is everyone all right? Your mum—?”
“Everyone’s fine,” he assured her quickly, taking her hands in his. “It’s the company. It’s gone under.”
Emily stared at him, struggling to process the words.
They’d been married five years. Frederick was ten years older, but she’d been head over heels for him from the start. Money hadn’t mattered—back then, his business was just taking off, and anyone who knew them saw the love between them.
Some marriages were made in heaven. Theirs was one. They fit together, two halves of a whole. No lies, no betrayal—just love.
After the wedding, his business soared. They moved from a tiny flat to a proper house, bought nice cars, holidayed abroad. Life, already good, became effortless.
Fred believed a husband should provide. Emily worked, but her earnings were hers. She spent them on beauty treatments, shopping, the little luxuries women enjoy. Sometimes she bought groceries or paid minor bills, but that was her choice. The weight of responsibility had always been his. And he’d liked it that way.
Now, he had to admit failure. Weakness.
Some part of him feared she’d leave. He wouldn’t blame her—he’d broken his promise.
“How long has it been bad?” she asked quietly.
“Months. I thought I could fix it… Today, they declared us bankrupt. I’m sorry.”
Fred lowered his head, ashamed to meet her eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” There was hurt in her voice.
“I didn’t want to drag you into it. I thought I could handle it alone.”
“Fred!” She scowled. “We’re a family. In sickness and in health, remember? Did you really think I’d only love you in the good times?”
“I just couldn’t bear to put this on you.”
She sighed, then gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. “We’ll manage. What’s the plan?”
“I don’t know… I’ll tally up what we have left, find a job. Maybe later… start again.”
“Right.” She stood abruptly. “I’ll return the dress.”
“Absolutely not!” Fred shot up. “It’s perfect on you, and you love it.”
“It’s fine,” she said firmly. “I’ve a wardrobe full of dresses. And it would be rude to outshine Millie, wouldn’t it?”
Fred laughed weakly, heart aching.
“It costs half our grocery budget for a fortnight. That matters more right now,” she added. “When things improve, I’ll buy something even better.”
That evening, they sat down with their accounts. With Emily’s salary and some tightening of belts, they could last six months.
“If we must, we’ll sell one of the cars,” she said.
“I’ll find work tomorrow,” Fred promised. “If nothing decent comes up, I’ll take anything—deliveries, courier work, taxi driving. I won’t be a burden.”
Emily was silent a moment, calculating something in her head.
“Fred… You mentioned starting something new?”
“Yes, but there’s no capital now. And I’m terrified of failing again.”
“Let’s think about it,” she said.
She barely slept that night. Emily knew Fred had a gift—an entrepreneur’s instinct. If fear kept him from trying again, he’d spend his life stuck in some dead-end job. That wasn’t him. He needed to build, to create.
Money wasn’t the point. A man should do work that fulfils him.
The next morning, she made him explain his business idea. It was solid, promising.
“How much to start?”
The figure was steep.
“And it’ll take months before we see profit,” Fred admitted.
“We could sell both cars. That would cover it.”
“No—you can’t commute without a car!”
“Fred,” she smiled, “when I was little, I took the bus to music school—two buses, actually, over an hour each way. It never occurred to me to complain. I won’t collapse now. Besides, public transport’s just a short walk and a thirty-minute ride.”
“Plus twenty minutes walking,” he muttered.
“I’ve put on a few pounds this winter. The walk will do me good. If you believe in this, go for it.”
“What if I fail?” His voice wavered. He was a sharp businessman—ruthless even. But here, he felt like a boy, afraid not of losing money, but her trust.
“Then you try again. I believe in you.”
Emily’s friends were less charitable when they heard.
“You’re mad,” one said. “Let him get a job like everyone else! You’ll be slaving while he doodles business plans? He already failed once!”
“And selling the cars? I’d never give up mine! His mess, his problem,” scoffed another.
Emily just smiled. “I love my husband. I’ll support him no matter what. And I believe in him. If marriage to you is only sunshine, then I pity your husbands. Heaven forbid they ever need you.”
The women bristled, waiting gleefully for Emily and Fred to crash and burn.
But they didn’t.
Maybe it was her faith in him. Maybe it was destiny. Within a year, their finances were stable again. Soon, they were thriving—better than before. They bought new cars, even nicer ones.
Then one afternoon, on his way to lunch, Fred passed a shop window. There, on a mannequin, was the very same blue dress—the one Emily had returned when money was tight.
Without hesitation, he bought it.
That evening, he handed her the bag.
“Seriously? The same dress?” she gasped. In truth, she’d forgotten all about it.
“You deserve the best. Wear it to Millie’s birthday—let everyone see. Damn the birthday girl. The world should know I married the most remarkable woman alive.”
