Roman and Victoria had lived together seven years, inseparable since school days. Children hadn’t come. It just hadn’t happened. Roman’s beloved Granny insisted: “Marry properly, my dears! Then God’s grace will find you. The Lord will grant heirs.” For Roman, his Granny’s word was law. Soon enough, he formally proposed to his common-law wife. They held a lavish wedding, exchanged rings, got the stamps in their passports. Though during the celebration, a hiccup occurred. When newlyweds are handed champagne glasses, tradition demands they drain them (for a tearless marriage), then shatter them on the floor. Roman’s glass shattered spectacularly; Victoria’s merely rolled away, unbroken. Guests began murmuring loud enough for all to hear: “Oh, bad omen! No good life for them.” Roman and Victoria just laughed. “Nonsense!” And the party resumed.
Once the wedding faded, the young couple settled into life. Yet… Victoria, now a legal wife, quickly changed, becoming domineering. Nothing was right. She nagged incessantly. Finally, she declared: “We rushed into this, Roman. You and I are like chalk and cheese. Best we part.”
…Roman blamed his mother-in-law entirely. She seemed like the demanding wife from old English fairy tales. Never enough: attention, money, space in their two-bedroom flat… And since her son-in-law lived in *her* “hard-earned” property, she ceaselessly lectured him on making a fortune, not scraping by on pennies. Roman endured the attacks from his wife and her mother silently for a year. Then came the ultimatum: “Leave.” He asked his wife: “Victoria, is this your final decision? Yours and your mother’s?” “Yes! My mother has nothing to do with it!” Victoria snapped. Slowly, Roman packed his things, glancing hopefully at his wife. Perhaps she’d relent? But Victoria didn’t bat an eyelid. “Farewell, wife. My apologies if I failed you,” Roman sighed. “Goodbye!” Victoria slammed the door shut behind him.
Roman left his home. Yet gloom didn’t last long. The fine-looking young man – tall, athletic, manly – soon found comfort in the arms of another woman. She’d long adored him. They worked together. Noticing Roman lately seemed downcast and humourless, Felicity (the new flame) suggested meeting outside work. Roman agreed, out of loneliness… Felicity was charming, independent, with an impeccable reputation. They strolled through a park one evening, drank tea in a cosy café. Roman poured out his life story. Felicity offered sympathy, concern. Then suddenly confessed: “Roman, haven’t you seen how I look at you, hanging on your every glance? I’ve loved you for ages! Are you blind?”
Roman had suspected Felicity’s feelings. At their London office, they met daily. When he approached, she’d blush or pale. Her voice would falter. He noticed her like a beautiful flower, no more. Felicity was Victoria’s opposite: calm, affectionate, easy-natured. Roman liked it, but he’d been married then! He’d kept his distance. Now, cast out? He thought, “Why not? A chance too good to miss…” …Next morning, Roman and Felicity arrived at work together. Colleagues exchanged knowing glances. Felicity had got her man. Everyone knew she’d dreamed of Roman, though she’d never cross the line called ‘wife’. Roman moved into Felicity’s flat. She fluttered around him like a radiant butterfly, anticipating his every wish. She felt utterly happy! Roman basked in her care. Privately, he called her Glow-worm. Her light warmed his soul. …Felicity introduced Roman to her parents. Her father was a high-ranking civil servant. Seeing his daughter hopelessly in love, he decreed: “If that’s the way, live together. We’ll arrange a wedding later. First, I assess the son-in-law material.” Naturally, Father didn’t know Roman was married. Felicity didn’t dare tell him, knowing his temperament… The young couple revelled in life! They made plans, even flew to Malta. Felicity’s father, keen to indulge his daughter, funded the trip. “Nothing’s too good for her! Let them enjoy themselves.” …Three months later, Victoria summoned her lawful husband home. She claimed she was expecting his child. Roman (reluctantly) returned. Felicity let her beloved go back to his official family, adding: “Roman, I’ll wait. Always…” …Half a year on, Victoria and Roman became parents to a daughter, Beatrice. A week later, Felicity called. She asked Roman to meet her… from the maternity hospital. Felicity had borne a daughter. Annabelle. Roman rushed to her with flowers and bewilderment.
Felicity’s father stood holding a huge basket of crimson roses. Roman kissed Felicity, handed her flowers. Felicity saw his confusion and alarm. “She’s our daughter, Roman. Congratulations!” Felicity smiled weakly. Roman stood dumbfounded, calculating dates in his head… Felicity interrupted: “Don’t worry, Roman. Annabelle and I won’t stand in your way.” Her father didn’t even acknowledge Roman’s greeting, standing like a stone statue of disapproval. Thus, Roman began living between two families. Both women soon knew. Victoria knew of Felicity; Felicity knew of Beatrice. Both suffered silently. Victoria cursed herself for ejecting her husband, leaving him vulnerable. Now she faced the consequences, sharing her husband with his illegitimate child.
Felicity had no regrets. She had a child by the man she loved! What more? Only that Roman rarely visited. But thank heaven, he remembered them! Roman struggled too. He loved both daughters deeply. They grew quickly, asking awkward questions: “Papa, why didn’t you stay last night?”, “Papa, why don’t you smell of Mummy’s perfume?”, “Papa, I’m Annabelle, not Beatrice!” (or vice versa)… One day, visiting Felicity and Annabelle, Roman encountered her stern father. “Felicity, take Annabelle for a walk. I need words with Roman,” he commanded. Felicity took Annabelle’s hand and obediently closed the front door. “Well, son-in-law?” Felicity’s father began. “Will you dash back and forth till your pension? A son-in-law neither use nor ornament is no good! Here’s my offer: Stay with Felicity – I’ll provide for you all. Want to leave? Go forever! We’ll raise our granddaughter. She’s our blood. We shan’t ask your help. But you won’t return. You’re no great loss. I’d have kicked you out long ago, but Felicity loves you. So decide. Don’t dither.”
That same day, Roman sought advice from Granny. “Grandson! Listen,” she said. “Choose one. Look at yourself! Thin as a rake, grey before forty! It won’t do! Stop fretting over the one left behind! Women are cleverer than men. Any one will find a husband, a father for her child. But you give both false hope.” “Granny! I love them all!” Roman protested. “You want me to cut off one wing?” “Roman, boy,” Granny sighed, “Mind you don’t lose both wings. Remember the saying: Running after two hares catches neither. Hares are one thing – women another! Why ever did you take up with Felicity
And true to his word, Roman soon learned that Felicity’s enduring love had indeed been the only real anchor in his storm-tossed life, their happiness deepening with each passing year in the little Hampshire cottage gifted by her father, where the scent of roses from the garden now mingled with children’s laughter.
