The One-Woman Man On the Day of His Wife’s Funeral, Fyodor Didn’t Shed a Tear—”You See, I Told You He Never Loved Zina,” Tosia Whispered to Her Neighbor. “Hush Now, What Difference Does It Make? The Children Are Orphans Now, with a Father Like That.”—”You’ll See, He’ll Marry Katie Soon Enough,” Tosia Assured Lelya. “Why Katie? She Wants Nothing to Do with Him. Glafira Was Always His True Love, Or Have You Forgotten How They Used to Sneak Around the Barns? Katie Has a Family and Moved On from Him Long Ago.” Zinaida Was Buried. The Children Clung to Each Other. Misha and Pauline Had Just Turned Eight. Though Zina Married Fyodor for Love, No One, Not Even She, Knew If He Truly Loved Her. Rumor Had It She Married Him Because She Fell Pregnant. Their First Child, Klavdy, Was Born Premature and Didn’t Survive; For Years Afterwards, There Were No More Children Until God Granted Twins—Pauline, Who Took After Fyodor, and Misha, Gentle Like His Mother. Fyodor Was Stern, Called “Lone Wolf” By Villagers for His Silence and Lack of Affection. When Zina Died, She Entrusted Misha With Protecting His Twin Sister. “You’re the Man of the House Now, Promise Me You’ll Care for Her,” She Said Before Passing. Fyodor Sat Wordless at His Late Wife’s Side. Life Slowly Settled—Pauline Tried to Manage the Household, But Needed Aunt Natalia’s Guidance. Villagers Whispered: Maybe Fyodor Would Marry Again, Perhaps to Glafira, His Old Flame—though Such Gossip Was Met with Chiding from the Parish Council Chairman, Maxim Leonard. Glafira Had Loved Fyodor Once, But Married Mitya Instead; Still, Old Sparks Began Rumored to Fly. Yet Fyodor Stayed True to Zina’s Memory. Even When Glafira Approached Him With Homemade Pies, He Refused, Remaining Loyal to His Wife, Even After Death. Years Passed, the Twins Grew Up. Aunt Natalia, Still Helping Them, Maintained That Her Brother Had Only Loved One Woman. When Pauline Confided She Loved Grisha Voronin “for Ever,” Natalia Cautioned Her That Sometimes Love Lasts a Lifetime—and Sometimes, If Betrayed, There’s No Loving Again. On Fridays, Pauline Secretly Followed Her Father to the Cemetery, Where He’d Whisper to Zina’s Grave All He Couldn’t Say in Life—For Fyodor, the Lone Wolf, Had Told Her Everything with His Heart.

Author Emily TaylorReading 9 minViews 2

THE ONE-LOVE MAN

On the day of his wifes funeral, Edward didnt shed a single tear.

See for yourself, I told you, he never loved Jane, whispered Dottie to her neighbour.

Hush now, what does it matter? The children are left orphans with a father like that, replied Margaret.

Youll see, hell marry Alice for sure, Dottie confided.

Why Alice? Whats special about her? His heart always belonged to Grace, dont you remember them skulking about the hayloft when they were young? Alice wont bother with him. She has her own family and shes likely forgotten him, reasoned Margaret.

How do you know all that? asked Dottie.

Of course I do. Alices husband is top man at the farm these days. Why would she want Edward and his brood? Shes far too sensible. Grace, though, shes having a tough time with her Martin. Its those two wholl pick things up again, just see if Im not right.

Jane was buried. The children clung tightly to each others hands.

Michael and Paula had just turned eight. Jane had married Edward for love. But whether Edward had ever loved Jane, neither she nor the villagers truly knew.

They said shed fallen pregnant, so Edward had been forced to marry her. Their daughter, Clara, had been born early and hadnt lived long. After that, Jane and Edward went for years without any more children.

Edward was always dark and taciturn. The villagers called him The Hermit. He was known for being tight-lipped, and even more reluctant when it came to affection. No one knew this better than Jane.

Still, God had some mercy on her. Only He knows how hard that poor woman prayed. And then, as if from heaven, Jane was blessed with twins.

Michael took after his mother, gentle and kind-hearted; Paula was her fathers image, stubborn and guarded. Trying to get a word out of Paula was like drawing blood from a stone. She closed herself off and no one knew what went on inside her head. In truth, she was closer to her fatherit was a matter of temperament.

Oftentimes, Edward would be busy sawing or hammering away in the shed, while Paula lingered nearby, soaking up his quiet advice and life lessons.

Meanwhile, Michael stuck close to his mothersweeping the floors, hauling water in his little bucket. It wasnt much, but it was help. Jane adored both her children but never quite understood Paula, while Michael was her hearts treasure.

When Jane was dying, she said to Michael:

Son, Ill be leaving soon. Youre in charge now. Dont ever give your sister any trouble, you must protect her. Youre a boy, you have to look out for her. Shes a girlshes not as strong as you, so shell need your help and support.

What about Dad? asked Michael.

Sorry, what? Jane frowned.

Will Dad look after us?

I dont know, son. Only time will tell.

Then dont die, Mum. Whatll we do without you? Michael wept.

Oh, son, if only it were up to me, Jane sighed, her voice soft and distant. By morning, she was gone.

Edward sat beside Jane, holding her hand. No words, no tears. He seemed to cave in on himself, grey and shrunken. That was all.

Life began, bit by bit, to settle into a new pattern. Paula tried to take responsibility for the housecooking for herself and tidying up, though she was still too young. Edwards sister, Aunt Natalie, would come round and help, teaching Paula the ropes.

Aunt Natalie, Paula once asked, will Dad marry again, do you think?

I couldnt say, love. Hed never tell me what goes on in that head of his.

Natalie had her own children and a husband, Davida good man. They made a cheerful home, quite a contrast.

If he does, will you take us to live with you? pressed Paula.

Dont be daft. Your father loves you, and hed never let anything happen to you. Natalie tried to reassure her.

By now, the parish was buzzing with rumoursEdward and Graces old flame was heating up again.

Grace has lost her head! gossiped Dottie. Shes tangled up with Edward all over again and all but forgotten her own family.

Foolish woman, that Grace, the village women agreed, gathering round the shop.

All right, girls, thats quite enough, said Maxwell Leonard, the head of the farming cooperative, dispersing them. Youre always chattering, always judging. But do you really know your own neighbours? he scolded them in Edwards defence.

Grace and Edward had been mad for each other once, the sort of love worthy of a paperback novel. But then Edward was sent to another village, far off in another county, to help a struggling farm through the planting season. He was gone two months. While he was away, Grace got mixed up with Martin Chandler.

Edward returned, heard what had happened, and gave Martin a good hiding. After that, he and Grace didnt speak.

Grace ended up marrying Martin. He was a hopeless case, always chasing after women and drowning his problems in a bottle, while Grace wept for losing a man as solid as Edward, who never drank and worked hardthough, true, he rarely spoke.

The villagers soon spotted Edward leaning towards Jane. Jane blossomed, like a bluebell in spring, and the whole village watched her in admiration.

Funny thing, what love does to people, they said.

Jane had been in love with Edward all along, but kept quiethow could she ever compete with Grace?

But life is strange.

She and Edward started walking out together, and one day they quietly married at the parish office.

The wedding was modest. The only family Edward had left was Natalie, while Janes elderly mother attended. Jane had been born lateeveryone had their suspicions about her mothers affairs but kept quiet. The parish chairman, Walter Proctor, was the man Janes mother had once been involved with. Roxanne, Janes mother, had been a beauty in her day but never married, always seen as a flirtand her daughter Jane was nothing like her. Still, why should a girl bear her mothers reputation?

The villagers pitied Jane, especially after she wed Edward. Poor thing, sighed Betty Parsons. Hell never love her; shell have a hard life with him, she predicted.

Yet, for all that, Edward was loyal to his wifeof that, the villagers were certain. And what can be hidden in a small English village?

Edward and Jane were married fifteen years. They never so much as argued. The villagers eventually got used to the ideauntil Jane fell desperately ill last winter. The disease was dreadfula lingering, hopeless case.

One evening, Edward was walking home from work.

Eddie, mind if I pop in for a cuppa? Ive baked the children some scones, Grace caught up to him, holding a tin.

No thank you, Grace. Natalie baked some for us yesterday already.

But these are from the heart, Eddie.

Well, so were Natalies.

Eddie, come meet me by the old mill tonight, after dark, Grace said, determined.

What for?

Have you really forgotten everything we had? Grace was taken aback.

That’s all ancient history. I love my children. I loved Jane, Edward replied.

But you cant get her back now, Grace said sadly.

True love doesnt die, Edward answered quietly.

You never loved her. You married her just to spite me, and you know it.

Grace, go home, Edward said softly.

He quickened his pace and walked on towards home, where his children waited.

Grace remained on the village street, alone.

Years passed. The children grew up. Aunt Natalie still visited, but she now knew for certainher brother could love only once.

Paula, Ive heard you’re walking out with Gregory Vaughan, Aunt Natalie said, barely through the door.

Yes, why not? Paula was grown nowa beauty, Natalie thought.

Nothing, just asking. But be careful.

What do you mean?

You know perfectly well. Youre not a little girl anymore, said Natalie sternly.

Aunt Nat, I love him, I mean it. I love him for life.

Ah, you only think so, my dear.

Its not just in my head. Im certain.

Maybe you are, but what about Gregory?

If he betrays me, Ill never love anyone else, Paula said, calm and certain.

That, I do believe, said Natalie with a sigh.

That evening, Michael and Paula waited for their father to come back from work.

Dads late, isnt he, Michael said.

Its Friday, Paula replied.

So?

He always goes to Mums grave on Wednesdays, Fridays, and weekends.

How do you know? Michael asked, surprised.

Youre a fool, Michael, if you cant feel how your own fathers heart beats.

They slipped quietly through the fields to the churchyard; Paula showed the secret way. She pointed to the bowed figure at the grave.

Look.

Michael listened. He heard their fathers voice, talking quietly.

So, Jane, thats how it is. Paulas getting married soon. Ive gathered her trousseau, and Natalie helped too. Were getting by. Forgive me, darling, that I never found more gentle words for you while you lived. But I spoke so many to you in my heart. Im no good with wordsmy heart does the talking, Edward rasped, and slowly walked away.

Paula looked at Michael. His eyes were full of tears that would not fall.

How My Son’s Mother-in-Law Stole Him Away from Us Ever since our son got married, he refuses to visit us—he’s always at his mother-in-law’s house. She always needs urgent help. I can’t even imagine how she managed before her daughter married our son. Our son has been married for over two years. After the wedding, the newlyweds moved into the flat we bought for him when he started university. He’s always had our support and understanding. Even before the wedding, he lived on his own since his flat was close to his work. I won’t say I didn’t like my daughter-in-law—she just never seemed mature enough for married life, despite being only two years younger than our son. She often acted like a child and was quite moody at times. Our son is such a kind soul, and I always wondered how he’d manage life with someone so childish. After meeting her and her mother, I realised what kind of people they are. Despite being my age, my son’s mother-in-law acts like a child herself. Maybe you’ve met people who behave like children even when they’re older? They’re very immature and helpless. When her daughter got married, she was already on her sixth divorce. We never had much to say to each other—she was in her own world, though she didn’t try to invade ours. Our communication rarely went beyond the polite congratulations at the wedding. The warning signs started even before the wedding—the daughter-in-law would constantly drag our son over to her mum’s: a leaking tap, a socket to fix, a kitchen shelf that had fallen down. The first time, I let it go—there wasn’t a man in the house, so of course, an extra pair of hands would help. But the issues at her house never seemed to end. Our son started ignoring us, always saying he and his wife were off to her mother’s. Soon after, they began spending every holiday at his mother-in-law’s, leaving only me, my father, and my mother-in-law alone here. It was bad enough when our son stopped coming to all family celebrations, but it hurt even more when he started ignoring our requests for help. When we bought a new fridge and asked our son for help moving it, he agreed at first, but later he called to say he couldn’t because he and his wife were going to her mum’s again—this time about a leaking washing machine. When my husband rang him, we overheard my daughter-in-law saying, “Couldn’t your parents just hire movers?” Our son did turn up, but he was in a vile mood. “Dad, couldn’t you have just booked a removals team? Now I have to lug this thing myself!” That’s when I lost my patience. Why couldn’t his mother-in-law just call a specialist herself? Is she living in a parallel universe where those don’t exist? My son said the poor woman needed help because everyone tries to cheat her nowadays—they’ll take her money and not fix a thing. At that point, my husband snapped and said, “Maybe your mother-in-law doesn’t know much about appliances, but she’s certainly a skilled shepherd—she’s managed to lead one sheep perfectly.” Our son stormed out, furious with his dad. I didn’t interfere—as much as I agreed with my husband that our new in-laws had made themselves very comfortable on our son’s back, he could have put it more gently, and now our son refuses to see him and is upset with me too. After that row, our son hasn’t spoken to his dad for more than two weeks. His father won’t be the first to make amends. I feel torn—caught between a rock and a hard place. Of course, my husband is right, but he could have put it more kindly. Now my son is offended, and I risk losing him altogether over something so petty. Neither will give way—they both say the other should apologise first. Meanwhile, his mother-in-law seems to be having the time of her life! — **How My Son’s Mother-in-Law Took Him Away from Our Family: Ever Since He Got Married, He’s Always at Her House—Now There’s Always an Emergency Needing His Help, and He Hardly Sees Us Anymore**

Living in Someone Else’s Flat? Then Pay the Rent! “I don’t even know if my daughter’s wedding will happen. Everyone’s fallen out, and the future son-in-law has gone off the rails. There are only two weeks to go and he’s acting up. I feel so sorry for my daughter,” complains Alina. “Why is everyone arguing?” “You won’t believe it, but it’s over a flat. We wanted to make the young couple happy, so we used all our savings and bought them a flat as a wedding gift. We had to sell our little cottage by the lake and the garage just to afford it. The property is in my daughter’s name. But they’re getting married anyway—so what difference does it make whose name it’s in?” “Exactly…” “That’s what my husband and I think too. Now, the flat’s totally bare. It needs renovating and furnishing, but we’ve got no savings left. My husband suggested to our son-in-law-to-be that we all pitch in to get the place ready so they can move in quickly. But he refuses to help with the renovation!” “Why not?” “Because it’s not his flat! He won’t invest in property he doesn’t own. He said we should do the renovation ourselves. Maybe he’ll buy a few bits and bobs, but he won’t spend any real money.” “So why don’t they just move in as it is?” “They can’t. It’s completely empty and needs new plumbing and electrics, the floors and walls need evening out, the old windows are about to fall out—they need to be replaced. At the very least, it needs basic finishing,” says Alina. “I think it’s impossible to live in such a state, even though I’m not hard to please. How can young people live in a dump like that? It’s embarrassing! My future son-in-law works for a big company and makes good money, but he doesn’t want to spend it. He wants to save up for his own place so he’s not left without a roof over his head. “So it seems he wants to live at our expense. He’s demanding we pay for the renovation. So I told him, if he thinks it’s someone else’s flat, then he should pay rent! He just smiled and agreed,” Alina sighs. “What does your daughter say?” “She’s very upset and cries all the time. She loves him very much, but we can’t add him to the flat’s deeds. Now she says she doesn’t want the flat or the renovation at all. But I dislike that he’s unwilling to invest in their family. What’s going to happen next? They’re not even married and already thinking about divorce and splitting the assets,” says Alina. Do you think my future son-in-law should invest in this flat? He plans to live there, start a family, settle in. Does it really matter whose name is on the deeds? Or is his position logical? What would you do in his shoes?