The Break That Saved My Life
“Evelyn, what are you doing?!” Nicholas’s voice boomed through the flat. “Where do you think you’re going looking like that?”
“To the theatre, if it’s acceptable!” Evelyn adjusted her new blouse bought in the sale before the mirror. “I planned it with Hazel. We’ve fancied seeing that play for ages.”
“The theatre?!” he scoffed. “Have you seen the state of this place? Dishes piled up, my shirts unwrinkled! And you plan to go gallivanting?” Nicholas seized her arm, twisting her towards him. “Change immediately and sort this mess!”
Evelyn wrenched her arm free, a red mark blooming on her wrist.
“Nick, we spoke about this yesterday! I spent all day at home finishing chores. One evening for myself, what’s unreasonable about that?”
“For yourself?!” He let out a derisive snort. “Who puts food on the table? Clothes on your back? A roof over your head? I’ve just got back from work, expecting a proper dinner, not those piddly sandwiches!”
Silently, Evelyn walked to the kitchen, retrieving groceries from the fridge. Her hands trembled; inside, everything clenched into a tight knot. That morning, she’d been so excited, even styled her hair and polished her shoes. And now…
“Exactly!” Nicholas grunted with satisfaction, cranking up the television. “And be quick! I’m starving!”
While the pan heated, Evelyn stole glances out the window. A woman her age walked a Labrador in the yard, laughing into her phone. How carefree she seemed, that stranger! Light and untroubled…
“Evelyn! Dreaming in there?!” he roared from the lounge.
“Coming, coming!” she replied, hastily flipping burgers.
Nicholas appeared in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame. “Listen, my colleague Thompson’s popping round tomorrow evening to discuss work. So no gallivanting with your mates. Keep quiet and serve tea if required.”
“But tomorrow’s Saturday,” Evelyn ventured timidly. “The girls and I were meeting at the café…”
“What ‘girls’? You’re forty-three, Evelyn, grow up! It’s time you got your priorities straight. Home, family – that’s your place. Not this juvenile palaver.”
Evelyn placed his plate down and sat opposite. She had no appetite, a lump in her throat.
“Nick, why are you like this? You weren’t always… We went to the theatre together, the cinema, you brought me flowers…”
“Before!” He waved a dismissive hand. “Before, you were younger. Prettier. Now what’s left? Put on weight, aged badly, dress like an old dear. I’d be embarrassed being seen with you!”
The words struck deeper than any blow. Evelyn stood, clearing the table. Tears threatened, but she swallowed them. She wouldn’t give him more ammunition.
“Don’t start blubbering!” he grimaced. “Can’t abide that sniveling. Better focus on sorting yourself out. Maybe join a gym, go on a diet. You’ve really let yourself go.”
Once he was back at the TV, Evelyn pulled out her phone, texting Hazel: ‘Can’t do tonight, sorry. Reschedule?’
The reply came instantly: ‘Evie, what now? Third time this month! This can’t go on!’
‘Urgent things popped up,’ she typed, then immediately deleted it. Sent simply: ‘All fine.’
But Hazel persisted: ‘Come to mine now. Seriously.’
‘Can’t. Nick’s home.’
‘Evelyn, we’ve been best mates twenty years. I see what’s happening. Stop tolerating this!’
Evelyn buried the phone under papers in the drawer. Hazel didn’t understand; divorced, living alone, dispensing easy advice. But the house? The joint mortgage? Where could she go? What could she do?
The next day, once Nicholas left for work, Evelyn visited Aunt Maude. The spry seventy-year-old welcomed her warmly.
“Evie love! You gorgeous thing!” Aunt Maude embraced her niece firmly. “Come in, come in, the kettle’s just boiled.”
Over tea, Maude studied Evelyn intently.
“You look peaky, darling. And thinner. Everything alright?”
“Oh, tickety-boo, Aunt Maud,” Evelyn forced a smile. “Just knackered from work.”
“Aye, work…” Maude mused. “Home life? How’s that husband of yours?”
“Nick’s well. Works hard, provides for us.”
Aunt Maude was silent a long moment, then sighed. “You know, pet, I was wed all my life. With your Uncle Edward, thirty-eight years side by side. Truth be told? We had good times, rough times. But never,” she tapped the table, “never did he demean me or forbid me living.”
“Aunt Maud, what are you on about?”
“About a woman staying true to herself, no matter what. If a man can’t grasp that, he’s worth nothing. Remember that.”
Returning home, Evelyn pondered Aunt Maud’s words. At the shop, she lingered by bookshelves, picking up a novel she’d longed to read. Then she put it back – chores awaited, Nicholas disliked her reading.
That evening, the unpleasant Mr. Thompson arrived – a florid, wheezing man. They sat in the lounge with whiskey, loudly discussing business. Evelyn quietly washed up, trying not to intrude.
“Your wife’s a gem!” drifted from the room. “Stays mum, knows her place. Mine’d interrupt demanding attention!”
“Trained her well,” came Nicholas’s satisfied voice. “Key is setting boundaries early. Save yourself headaches later.”
“Spot on! Women must know their place. All this equality rubbish nowadays.”
Evelyn froze, a plate in hand. He actually boasted about “training” her? Took pride in it?
Once the guest left, Nicholas was cheerful.
“Well, happy? Thompson praised you. Said I’ve got the right sort. See? My persistence pays off.”
‘Persistence.’ As if she were a child, not a grown woman.
“Nick, do you love me?” Evelyn asked suddenly.
“What brought this on?” He looked surprised. “Of course. Why else keep you around?”
“Keep me… Once you said you couldn’t live without me.”
“That was then. We’re not kids playing games. There’s responsibilities, duties. *That’s* real love, not romantic nonsense.”
That night, Evelyn lay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to her husband’s breathing. Married ten years ago, she’d been overjoyed! Life seemed full of promise, shared joy.
Then, gradually, things changed. First, he stopped buying flowers, stopped inquiring about her work. Next came criticism – her looks, friends, hobbies. She yielded, compromised, all for domestic peace. But now…
Morning brought renewed displeasure.
“Evelyn, have you forgotten how to make coffee? This is dishwater!”
“Sorry, I’ll make stronger.”
“And lay out my white shirt. Important meeting.”
“The white is still drying. Take the blue, it suits you.”
“I decide what suits me!” he snapped. “I said white, so white! Dry it properly!”
Obediently, Evelyn fetched the damp shirt, turning on the hairdryer. As she held it, Aunt Maud’s words echoed: ‘A woman staying true to herself.’
At work, her colleague Fiona noticed her downcast look.
“Evie, you alright
Vera linked arms with Gillian beneath the blossoming apple trees, feeling the warm spring breeze carry away the last shadows of fear, leaving only quiet joy and a future bright with her own choices.
