You said today you married me because I was convenient! she snapped. He shrugged. So? Whats wrong with that?
Are you seriously wearing that old dressing gown again? Edward wrinkled his nose at Emily as he fastened his shirt cuff, adjusting it like armor before battle.
She froze, the coffee cup trembling in her hands. Steam curled up in thin wisps, scalding her fingers, but she didnt pull away.
Its comfortable.
Yeah, convenient, he scoffed, straightening his tie in the mirror. Like everything else about you.
Emily lowered her gaze. The coffee had stopped steaming. The black surface reflected the ceiling like a shattered mirror.
Ed, you
What? He jangled his keys, the metal clinking against his wedding ring.
Nothing.
The door slammed so hard the porcelain on the shelf rattled.
***
Theyd met at work. She was a quiet accountant who tucked her hair into a messy bun; he was a loud, confident manager whose laughter echoed down corridors. Edward had courted her with roses still dewy from the florist, candlelit dinners where he ordered her a medium-rare steak without asking what she liked.
Youre not one of those women who fuss over little things, are you? hed asked on their third date, smoothing the napkin on her lap.
No, Emily had smiled, ignoring the warning bells.
Good. My ex was always making a scene
She hadnt thought much of it. Then came the wedding, the children, the house. Everything as it should be.
Except when she tried on an off-shoulder dress, hed say, Something simpler would suit you better.
Or when she swiped on lipstick, hed mutter, Why bother? Youre just staying in.
Once, when she bought a new floral perfume, hed grimaced. Smells cheap, like that auntie from accounting. Why would you want that?
She never wore it again.
On her birthday, he gave her a vacuum cleaner.
The old ones squeaking, hed said, watching her unbox it. Youre always sighing when you clean.
She thanked him. Then stared out the window for a long time until the children called her to cut the cake.
But she stayed silent. Because he was a good husband, wasnt he? Didnt drink, didnt hit her, brought home the money.
Wasnt that enough?
***
Did you ever love me?
The same evening. The same conversation. Edward glanced away, as if checking the latch on the window.
Of course. Youre the perfect wife.
Thats not an answer.
He sighed, like she was asking him to explain basic arithmetic.
Emily, why are you making a fuss? Were fine.
Fine?! Her voice shook, not with tears but with fury finally breaking free. You said you married me because I was convenient!
And? He shrugged. Whats wrong with that?
She stared at him, seeing him properly for the first timehis tennis tan from weekends with colleagues, the crease between his brows not from worry but irritation at having to justify himself.
What about Charlotte?
Edwards face twitched, like someone had tugged an invisible string.
Whats she got to do with this?
You loved her.
Yeah, he admitted sharply, and that one word held more feeling than all their years together. I did. But she wasnt wife material.
Something inside Emily snapped with a quiet click, like a broken heelyou could still walk, but not the same way.
So I was the obedient, practical replacement.
Dont be dramatic, he waved her off like swatting a fly. Weve got kids. A home. What more do you want?
***
She hesitated.
Maybe he was right. Maybe love was a luxury, and family mattered more? Emily stood by the window, watching raindrops smear the glass. The reflection showed smudges from her fingersshed stood there so often lately, as if waiting for the world outside to give her an answer.
And Edward Edward carried on like nothing had changed.
A week later, seeing she hadnt pushed back, he dropped the act entirely.
Pasta again? He poked at his plate like it was evidence of her failure. Couldve at least seasoned it.
You said you dont like spicy, she replied, but her voice sounded hollow, like someone else was speaking.
So? Charlotte always used to
Emily stood abruptly. The chair screeched, leaving another scratch on the flooranother mark in this house, another invisible crack.
If you want Charlotte, go to her!
Oh, give it a rest, he laughed, and that hurt more than shouting. Where would I go? You know Im comfortable with you.
Thats when she finally understood.
He wasnt trying to keep hernot because he trusted her love, but because he trusted her obedience.
She noticed it everywhere now.
The way he no longer corrected her outfitsjust walked past without looking. The way his gaze slid over her, like she was part of the furniturea sofa that was there, but never sat on. The way his calm stretches lasted weeksno fights, no complaints, just nothing.
The worst part? That nothing was louder than any scream.
Standing in the kitchen, gripping the counter, she realized: he wasnt even angry. He was just waiting for her to accept it. Like shed accepted the vacuum instead of a gift. Like shed stopped wearing perfume. Like shed stopped being the kind of woman who fussed over little things.
Then something inside her shifted.
Not pain, not ragefreedom.
Because if someone doesnt love you but still gets angry, at least you exist to them.
But when even the anger stops?
Youre already gone.
***
A month later, she filed for divorce.
Edward didnt believe it at first. He walked into the kitchen where Emily was packing the childrens things and froze, as if facing a stranger.
Youre serious? His voice wavereduncertain for the first time in years.
She didnt look up, folding tiny jumpers neatly.
Yes.
Over something this petty? He stepped forward, and her shoulders tensed.
Its not petty, she said softly. Im not furniture.
He laughedsharp, nervous.
Oh, here we go! You always overreact.
Emily finally met his eyes. His face was painfully familiar, but she saw it differently nowthe tight lips, the narrowed eyes. He was annoyed, not because he was losing her, but because his convenient world was cracking.
Im not overreacting, she said. Im just tired of being convenient.
Edward was silent, then snatched his keys off the table.
Fine! You think Ill struggle? He glared at the boxes. You cant even cook properly.
She flinchedan old, familiar sting. Once, those words wouldve made her doubt herself. Now? They rang hollow.
Maybe not, she agreed. But someone else seems to think otherwise.
His face twisted.
Ah, so thats it! Youve got someone lined up? He smirked. Look at youwhod even want you?
The old ache tightened in her chest. She almost opened her mouth to say, Youre right, Im sorry, like she had a hundred times before.
Then she realized: she didnt want to.
Me, she said firmly. I want me.
Edward stilled. He hadnt expected that.
Youve lost it, he hissed. What about the kids? Youd throw this all away over nothing?
Emily closed her eyes for a second. The children Yes, she thought of them every minute.
Theyll learn what self-respect looks like, she replied.
Oh, stop! He threw up his hands. Youre selfish. Weve got a home, money And youll dump it all over a whim?
She looked at him and realized: he truly didnt understand. To him, it really was nothing.
To you, maybe, she said. Not to me.
He turned away, jingling his keys impatiently.
Whatever. Youll regret this.
On the day she collected the last of her things, Edward suddenly asked,
You really think youll find someone better?
She paused at the door, feeling the breeze brush her face.
Better? she echoed. I dont know. But someone who sees me, not an empty space.
He said nothing.
She stepped outside, where the air smelled like rain and freedom.
***
Two years passed.
Emily married a man who kissed her shoulder every morning, even when she grumbled it was too early. Who whispered, Youre beautiful,
