The Price of Silence
Lily wiped the glass vase carefully, a wedding gift from her mother-in-law. Over the years, it had faded, just like the love within her marriage. A small crack had appeared after that unforgettable night when John raised his voice for the first time. She had silently cleaned the broken plate, her heart heavy with unspoken words.
The day before an important dinner, Lily overheard a phone conversation. John spoke about business meetings, partners, and new contracts… but never mentioned her. She was simply a part of the house, a piece of decor like the vase sitting on the shelf.
Looking at herself in the mirror, Lily saw a woman with tired eyes. Once a passionate writer, now she only dealt with the day-to-day struggles of keeping up with the success of others.
“Lily, don’t forget about tomorrow’s dinner,” John said as he entered the room. “I won’t. What time should I expect the guests?” she asked. “Seven o’clock. Just set the table and stay out of the way. It’s a business meeting.”
Lily froze. Leave her own house?
“I’m the lady of this house,” she thought, but the words never left her lips. Instead, she nodded quietly.
That evening, as she set the table, Lily remembered her grandmother’s words: “Life is like a game of chess. The key is to realize you’re not just a pawn.” Tomorrow would be a different day. A day when Lily would no longer just be the backdrop.
At Home, But Not the Mistress
The next morning, Lily prepared a salmon tart, her usual recipe praised by the guests. Her hands moved mechanically as her thoughts wandered. Fifteen years ago, she had given up her career for her family. Back then, she believed love meant sacrifice. Now, she knew there were limits to what one could give.
At three o’clock, the house smelled of delicious dishes, and John peeked into the kitchen.
“You’re doing a great job. I’m seating Veronica next to Mikhail – she’s got a sharp business mind.”
Lily didn’t respond, but inside, something snapped. Veronica. 26 years old, confident, and always the center of attention. The week before, Lily had seen them together at a café. A “business lunch,” of course.
At six-thirty, the doorbell rang, and guests arrived. Lily stayed in the other room, listening to the voices.
«And where’s your wife?» a woman’s voice asked.
«Oh, she’s in the kitchen. The housework,» John replied.
Lily clenched her fists. Housework. Images of lectures, research, and student papers filled her mind. Now, she was just a shadow of someone else’s success.
The Price of Silence
In the closet, there was a black dress – simple, elegant. The same one she wore when she defended her PhD thesis. It still fit perfectly, waiting for its time.
She pulled out her notebook – the one where she had tracked the family expenses for the past fifteen years. Now, those numbers took on new meaning.
“Cleaning and cooking – $40,000 a year. Event organization – $50,000 a night. Wardrobe maintenance – $30,000…”
The sums piled up, cutting her breath short.
From the living room, Veronica’s voice rang out.
“In today’s world, everyone needs to be efficient.”
“Absolutely,” John replied. “My wife handles everything at home perfectly.”
Lily smiled quietly. In her university days, she taught about the role of women in literature. “A woman is a household slave,” wrote Aristotle. Two thousand years had passed… and what had changed?
She looked at her watch – 8:45. It was time to gather the stones.
It’s Time to Speak
Lily walked into the living room just as John was discussing business matters. Her entrance went unnoticed at first.
Veronica was the first to fall silent when she saw Lily in her black dress. The room was filled with silence, the ticking of clocks the only sound.
“Lily?” John stood up. “Did you want to say something?”
“I did,” she smiled. “I’d like to present the financial report.”
Mikhail Sergeyevich raised an eyebrow.
“A financial report?”
“Yes. I’ve calculated the cost of domestic work.”
The figures tumbled from her lips like falling autumn leaves: the cost of a maid, a nanny, a personal assistant, an event planner. Fifteen years, multiplied by twelve months, by thirty days…
“Lily, maybe not now?” John tried to protest.
“And when, John? When will you next tell the guests that I’m just ‘doing the housework’? Or when will you decide that Veronica is better suited to be your wife?”
Veronica got up in a huff, and Mikhail Sergeyevich’s wife removed her pearl necklace – a gesture of female solidarity.
“You know,” Mikhail Sergeyevich suddenly said, “my mother also gave up her career for my father’s. She never forgave herself for it.”
A tear rolled down Lily’s cheek. Not out of anger, but out of realization.
“I’m going to get some coffee,” she said calmly. “And you know what? I’m staying. This is my house, after all.”
After the Ball
The guests left after midnight. Mikhail Sergeyevich kissed Lily’s hand in respect. His wife left a business card: “Call me. Just like that.” Veronica was the first to leave, her eyes lowered.
John smoked silently on the balcony.
“I want to go back to the university,” Lily said. “Not full-time, just to start.”
He nodded, something new flickering in his eyes – fear of loss? Or a spark of understanding?
Starting Over
The next morning, a note sat on the table:
“Sorry. I get it now. Let’s start over, okay?”
Lily smiled. But this time, the rules would be different. She took a sip of her coffee – her coffee, not for the guests – and looked out the window.
Now, she knew for sure: silence was not her role.
And could you calculate the price of your love? 🌟
