- 06.
The immediate family gathered in the living
room, faces grim.
Silence hung heavy, broken only by Ashley’s
occasional sobs.
Finally, my aunt spoke.
Ashley, Ryan is a jerk, but he’s right about
one thing. This marriage…”
“”
As Ashley looked at her with hope, my aunt averted her gaze. “…can’t end.”
Ashley froze. Everyone chimed in, echoing my
aunt’s sentiment.
“Divorced women are damaged goods. It’ll be
hard to find someone else…‘
“”
“All men are like that. You have to learn to be
submissive…”
“He apologized. You can be mad, but don’t
take it too far…
“”
“I told you not to badmouth his mother in
front of him! That’s his mother! Wouldn’t you
<
“I told you not to badmouth his mother in
front of him! That’s his mother! Wouldn’t you
be upset if someone insulted me? Put
yourself in his shoes. You’re partly to
blame…”
And the final, inevitable argument
“You
have a child! Children from broken homes are
stigmatized! Do it for little Logan.”
I listened silently.
These societal expectations, these familial
responsibilities, seemed to bind only the
wives, the mothers, holding them captive.
The men remained unburdened, pampered by
three generations of women, yet eternally
dissatisfied.
If you’re virtuous, they find you boring. If
you’re beautiful, they find you incompetent. If
you’re competent, they accuse you of
infidelity.
And yet, despite their unreasonable behavior,
<
And yet, despite their unreasonable behavior,
they remain protected, a simple apology
considered a grand gesture of forgiveness.
In my past life, it was this injustice that drove
me to advise Ashley to reconsider.
But I didn’t realize then that not everyone
deserves to be saved.
So, this time, I chose to abandon my savior
complex, to respect Ashley’s destiny – by
crushing her hopes and ensuring she
remained trapped.
“Sarah, you don’t want me to get a divorce
either?”
All eyes turned to me.
As the person Ashley trusted most, I spoke
with sincerity. “Ashley, you really can’t get
divorced.”
“But… you… you…
You what?
99
Ashley struggled to find the words.
Ashley Struggled to find the wUIUS.
This time, I hadn’t advised her to abort or
divorce.
She couldn’t blame me for anything.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes, opting for a concerned tone instead. “Ashley, how will you
support yourself and Logan as a single
mother? It’s tough out there. With no
experience and a child to care for, most
companies won’t hire you. Even if you do find
a job, the long hours, the constant pressure… it’s so much harder than staying at home.”
Ashley had always been averse to hard work.
When I first started my career, she’d said,
with an air of superiority, “Sarah, you work so
hard, and for what? Five, six thousand dollars
a month? Isn’t it tiring? Just find a good
husband and settle down. Like me. I shop, I
sleep, Ryan gives me money. Easy life.” “Better to please a husband than a boss.”
That
حل
That was Ashley’s motto. Not mine.
Pleasing a boss guarantees a paycheck. If they don’t pay, there’s labor law. But a
“husband?” He might give you money when he’s happy, accuse you of being wasteful when he’s not. And any legal recourse is just
‘domestic dispute” mediation.
I embraced the challenges of my career. Ashley wouldn’t last a day.
At the mention of working, she winced, her
hand instinctively going to her bruised face.
But even physical pain couldn’t overcome her
inherent laziness.
She abandoned the idea of divorce, then,
embarrassed, tried to salvage some dignity.
“Fine! But Ryan has to apologize! A sincere
apology! Or I’ll never speak to him again!”
Her declaration was met with laughter.
I joined in, but the taste was bitter.
Don’t worry, Ashley. With my help, Ryan will
<
apologize many more times. More than
enough for you to pretend you’ve won.
Driving my parents home, my mother started
praising me.
“You were very mature today. Not like before,
when Ashley and Ryan first met. You were so
critical of him back then.”
Really?
I gave a modest smile. I just hadn’t been
reborn early enough.
If I’d returned to the day of their first date, I
would have praised Ryan to the skies, pushed
Ashley to marry him immediately, and prayed for a speedy XYY pregnancy.
Screw female independence, screw choosing
wisely, screw assessing compatibility. Those
were concerns for normal people, not Ashley.
As my mother continued her praise, I
interrupted her.
“Mom, if I were the one being abused, would you support my divorce?”
She paused, then chuckled awkwardly. “Honey, newlyweds have their arguments. It’s normal. Divorcing over something small? Your father and I would have been divorced a
hundred times by now. We wouldn’t have you,
our precious daughter…
99
My father chuckled along, playing the part of the loving husband.
A chill ran down my spine.
“What if he tried to kill me?”
“I mean, what if, after marriage, I was murdered, dismembered… would you still insist that I should stay married, that divorce is never an option?”
Silence filled the car. Then my mother said,
“There are plenty of good men out there,
honey. You just worry too much. Find
someone pice settle down have kids like
<
someone nice, settle down, have kids, like
Ashley. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
I opened my mouth, words caught in my throat.
Mom, there are so many good men out there,
why haven’t I met any of them?
On holidays, it’s you, Aunt Carol, and
Grandma doing the dishes, while Dad, Uncle
John, and Grandpa relax.
You work, you’re abused, you bear the children.
Mom, I really was dismembered in my past
life. It hurt so much…
Mom, when can we, as women, stand up for ourselves? Prioritize our safety, our financial
security, our inheritance rights, before
becoming wives and mothers?
Mom, I don’t want a marriage like yours, a
marriage that devours its own.
But I said nothing, remaining silent.
L
As we reached our apartment building, I made
an excuse about work and left.
Mom, I’m going to choose a different path. A
path unlike yours.
^
