**Diary Entry**
That was the last straw.
“Enough! I’ve had it!” bellowed Daniel the moment he and Emily stepped into their flat. “When are you going to learn to hold your tongue?”
“What did I even say?” Emily huffed, crossing her arms.
“You’re seriously asking?” Daniel sneered. “You’ve crossed every line, love. Time you learned some respect.”
“Daniel, what’s the matter with you?” Emily took a step back, eyes narrowed.
“The matter is, your behaviour is downright disgraceful! Petite little thing like you, yet so full of lip!”
“Not all of us can be built like a brick wall like you!” she shot back. “A woman’s supposed to be delicate and refined!”
“And quiet, obedient, and biddable—none of which you are!” Daniel unbuckled his belt, sliding it free from his trousers. “High time you were taught your place!”
“Have you lost your mind?” Emily’s voice wavered as she retreated. “Are you actually going to hit me?”
“Educate you,” he corrected with a grimace. “And punish that sharp tongue of yours. You nearly gave my mum a heart attack today!”
“Well, maybe she shouldn’t talk nonsense!” Emily snapped. “Why on earth should I take off my heels—which, mind you, I brought in a bag—just to wear her musty slippers? Not with my height, thank you very much!”
“Perfectly good slippers!” Daniel advanced. “For guests!”
“And since when do guests wash dishes and scrub the stove?” She tilted her head, defiant. “Especially when I can’t stand being ordered about!”
“That’s exactly why you’re getting this!” Daniel’s grip tightened on the belt. “You’re my wife, not some spoiled princess. Time you learned respect—for me and my parents!”
“Maybe they should act decently first!” Emily darted into the bedroom. “They’re the ones being rude, and I’m just supposed to take it? You should’ve stood up for me! Look how tiny I am—they were bullying me!” She pouted but kept a wary eye on him.
“If you acted according to your size and station, no one would’ve said a word! But no, you’ve always got an opinion. Well, I’ll beat it out of you!”
“Please, don’t!” Emily sniffled. “You’ll hurt me!”
“Oh, I will,” Daniel grinned. “I’ll make sure you never forget your place again. Tiny thing like you, acting like the Queen herself!”
“Stop it!” she shrieked, pressing against the wall, knees drawn up. “Please, don’t!”
Daniel loomed over her, belt raised. “Oh, I will. Bratty little madams like you need it knocked into you!”
**Flashback**
Meeting Emily’s parents had left a mark on Daniel.
Frederick—who insisted on being called “Dad Fred”—had gripped Daniel’s hand like a vice before pulling him into a bear hug.
“Son! I’d do anything for you! Always wanted a lad—Mary only gave me a daughter and called it quits. Dreamed of fishing, footie matches, hunting trips! That’s what sons are for! Not all this frilly nonsense. But with you, son-in-law, we’ll make up for lost time!”
“Glad to hear it, Dad Fred,” Daniel mumbled awkwardly. “Though I’m rubbish at fishing.”
“Bah! None of us start experts!” Fred clapped his back. “Point is, I’ve got a son now! I’ll teach you everything!”
Mary rolled her eyes, steering Daniel toward the dining table. “Don’t mind him—sore subject. Five sisters, works with women—nearly left me at the hospital when Emily was born. Now he’s got you to unload on!”
“I’ll do my best,” Daniel said weakly.
“Oh, you will,” Mary smiled. “You’ve no idea how he longed for a son. Tried turning Emily into a tomboy till I stepped in. A girl should be gentle, sweet, refined—not whatever he had in mind!”
Fred scowled but beamed at Daniel. “See? Still holds a grudge. Sometimes he’ll burst in all excited, then remember it’s ‘not women’s talk.’ Mumbles, storms off. Barely a word between us some days. But you’ve brightened his life, Daniel.” She patted his arm. “Though if he pesters you, just say the word—I’ll rein him in.”
“No, it’s fine! We’ll get on.”
True to form, Fred monopolised Daniel, complaining within minutes.
“Christ, you’ve no idea how glad I am to have another man in this house! Between us, we’ll manage them. Can’t live like this—slip one curse word, and it’s ‘Soldiers belong in barracks!’ Can’t even walk round in me pants! Mary starts up—‘This isn’t a beach!’ Then Emily joins in—‘Ew, Dad!’” Fred mimed slitting his throat. “Makes my blood boil!”
“Delicate sensibilities,” Daniel offered.
“Too delicate! Theatre trips—absolute drivel. Someone loves, someone doesn’t, everyone mopes. I ducked out at intermission! They nagged me senseless. Now I just drive ‘em and wait outside. Exhibitions, concerts—nearly died of culture!”
Daniel chuckled. “Women are meant to be refined.”
“Mary, fine—I picked her tame. But I thought she’d give me a son! Instead…” He waved dismissively. “Only bright spot? She brought you home.”
“We’ll be living separately after the wedding,” Daniel reminded him.
“Good! Lock your refined missus up—let her cook. I’ll do the same. Then it’s just us lads, living proper!”
From Fred’s rants, Daniel gathered he barely tolerated Emily. Mary had raised her—and they were peas in a pod. Petite, willowy, sharp-tongued, and educated. Neither hid their opinions.
“Em, let’s not argue,” Daniel sighed once. “Art’s subjective.”
“No, let’s settle this!” she grinned. “Truth must prevail!”
“Even if it does, we’ll just row. What difference does Monet or Manet make?”
“Just admit defeat!” She stuck her tongue out, laughing.
Worse clashes followed.
“Was it so hard to stay quiet? Stash those boxes on the balcony, chuck ‘em later!” Daniel groaned.
“If you were binning them anyway, why bring them home?” Emily frowned.
“Blimey, must you upset my mum? We’re not planning kids yet, but she’s sentimental!”
“Then she can keep them!” Emily folded her arms.
“It’s four boxes of my old baby clothes, not a national crisis!”
“No thanks,” she scoffed. “I’ll buy new things for our child, not your mum’s dusty relics!”
“Why tell her that? She needed valium after!”
“And why’s that my fault?” Emily glared. “If you knew we didn’t need it, you should’ve refused! Instead, you cooed over her ‘precious memories.’ Be a man—tell her we don’t want her junk!”
“Enough!” Daniel snapped. “I’m off to apologise for you.”
“Fine—just dump it all in a skip on the way back!”
“Right. And you—try not to pick fights. An apology from you would be nice too.”
“Maybe tomorrow. I need to calm down.”
Emily never warmed to his parents. Daniel often made excuses for her, then coaxed half-hearted apologies. Two years passed like this—until his parents finally intervened.
“How long will you let that wife shame you?” his father demanded. “A grown man, grovelling for her rudeness! If we tolerate it, strangers won’t. They’ll think you weak. And weakness breeds disrespect.”
“Mum, Dad—what do you suggest?”
“Tell her to save the attitude for home,” his mother said. “A wife should support her husband, not show him up in public!”
“What can I do? She’s stubborn!”
“Stubbornness calls for discipline,” his father said. “Her dad didn’t train her? Then you must. Your mother was wilful too—I corrected that. Now she’s grateful. Knows who’s in charge.”
“Quite right,” his mother nodded. “Respect kept us strong.”
“Son, it’s your life,” his father finished. “But let this slide, and she’ll ride you into the ground. Want that?”
Daniel took their advice—but held back. He’d talk to Emily one last time. If she refused to change… well, actions spoke louder.
The next row came swiftly.
“Time for your lesson!” Daniel raised the belt—but things went awry.
Five-foot-two Emily drove a fist into his solar plexus. As he doubled over, her knee smashed his face. He barely straightened before a flurry of blows sent him crashing. A final kick to the jaw left him
