[story] Glass Stilettos
PART 1
This was another Cinderella story. I know it is silly, but sometimes I do imagine how many pairs of glass stilettos have been left on the Earth.
I met my prince in the graduation party of the College of Architecture of a famous university. I was only seventeen.
I was poor. My mother had to take three part-time jobs to raise me up. I didn’t have a dress to go to the party. I didn’t even know anyone who was in the College of Architecture.
My fairy godmother was my friend Claire. She was rich and she liked partying. She was nice to me because I always lent her my notes and homework. She invited me to the party, which, according to her, was “an excellent chance to know people”. I replied, “But I don’t even know anyone there!” “That’s why you have to go!” she said.
“But I don’t have any clothes…” I still resisted the idea of going to the party.
“I’ll handle that.”
And she did. She brought me to her home, and let me choose one of her dresses. I picked the one that was silvery grey. Claire said, “But it is so dull! You should pick something more colorful!” “It’s okay, Claire. I thank you a lot for inviting me to the party and lending me a dress. I’m good with this dress, seriously.”
Claire even helped me put makeup on my face. She was a good friend.
The graduation party started at seven. It was in the grand hall of the College of Architecture. Everyone dressed so beautifully that I felt like I was only a kid.
I guessed I was only a kid. I was only seventeen.
But I liked the atmosphere. Everything was elegant and expensive. I hid myself in the balcony and looked at the people in the hall.
Music had started already. It was my mother’s favorite song. She always held my hands and taught me dancing when I was a small girl.
Suddenly I wanted to dance.
And then it was like the fairy tale: my prince appeared and invited me for a dance. We had a happy time but I had to leave early because my mother was waiting for me at home. But I didn’t leave him a glass stiletto – I left him a dizzy smile.
PART 2
Claire grabbed me in class the next day.
“Why did you leave so early last night?” she sounded disappointed.
“My mother was waiting for me at home.”
“Did you have fun?” she asked.
I nodded.
“MC was asking about you for the rest of the night.”
“MC? Who is he? Do I know him?”
“What? The guy whom you danced with last night, you silly girl! MC is very popular in the university.” Claire laughed at me.
“Really? Why?”
“Alas, you silly girl… MC is rich and he is the honor student this year. He is good at sports and he is… great! MC is great!”
“Really?”
“Really really!” Claire continued, “Anyway, I told him to wait for us at the restaurant around the school corner today after school.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re a question girl. Because he’d like to see you again, that’s why. Don’t you want to see him again?”
“Well, yes… but…”
“A ‘yes’ would be enough, thank you. So I’ll see you later.” Claire was leaving the classroom.
“Wait! Claire, wait! But I couldn’t go today…”
“Why not?” she turned around.
“Because I had promised Mrs. Peterson to finish the board poster.”
“Well, then, I’ll ask him to wait for you then.”
PART 3
Before I could complain further, Claire already ran away. It isn’t good to let someone wait for you, is it? I thought to myself. But on the other hand, I’ve promised Mrs. Peterson…
My resolution was that I would finish the board poster as soon as possible and then rushed to the restaurant. Then MC wouldn’t be waiting for me for too long.
I was still gasping for air when I sat down in the restaurant.
“Are you okay?” MC asked.
“I’m… fine.” I drank the whole glass of water. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to rush. Claire already told me that you had something to do…”
“But it isn’t good to let people wait, is it?”
I guessed it was our first date. A terrible first date, indeed. But we didn’t mind and we had a good time. Probably we were still young.
Then after a few months he proposed to me.
And I said yes.
I was eighteen when we had our wedding. Everyone said I was like Cinderella. I guessed I was like Cinderella, too.
We moved into an apartment close to the seaside. I liked taking a walk on the beach every evening.
MC was busy with his work. So I could do anything I liked in the daytime.
I usually had lunch with my mother. She didn’t work any more. I supported her. I was glad that I could do so.
Claire could not get into a local college, so her parents sent her to a private college in Canada. She was not too unhappy. She told me, “I heard that there’re lots of parties in college in Canada.”
I didn’t go to school or go to work. MC said, “It’s up to you to do something that you’re interested in.”
So I took up classes of sculpture and calligraphy.
Once I finished a sculpture and asked what MC thought about it. He said, “It looked like you.” I smiled. My sculpture was a small girl with a cat.
PART 4
Five months later I gave birth to a baby girl. Everyone said the baby looked like me. Two years later I gave birth to a baby boy. This time everyone said the baby looked like MC. People said I was the luckiest woman in the world: married to a rich, handsome guy; gave birth to two pretty, lovely babies. I guessed I was the luckiest woman in the world, at that time.
I didn’t have to worry about my life. Yet I didn’t know what my life was either.
Another two years passed. MC didn’t return home at night. We had a discussion and thought that it was best to send the babies to his parents for care. Then MC didn’t return home at all. I was practically living alone in the apartment close to the seaside.
I still had lunch with my mother every day. I still took a walk on the beach every evening. What was the difference between now and then?
Sometimes when the weather was good, I could see children playing around with the sand, lovers kissing on the bench, old people taking their dogs for walk… And then, I would feel like I was at the graduation party again – hiding myself in the balcony and watching other people.
I still took my sculpture and calligraphy classes. I still finished my art work. But no one would care to take a look at my work any more.
I started to smoke. And I only smoked when I was walking on the beach every evening. Smoking brought me comfort. I felt like I could relax my soul when the familiar sweetness of cigarette surrounded me.
MC didn’t propose a divorce. He still supported my life, as well as my mother’s life. I was still MC’s wife. I was still the two children’s mother. What was the difference between now and then?
Or, should I care about the difference between now and then?
Was there any difference at all?
I lit up another cigarette by the seaside.
It was already winter. And there were obviously much fewer people on the beach. The cloud was thick and low. It seemed like it would rain very soon.
The first rain in winter.
PART 5
What would I do if I had my chance again? Would I say “No” to MC when he asked me to dance? Would I stay at school late and help with Mrs. Peterson’s board poster and eventually forget that MC was waiting for me in the restaurant at the school corner? Would I say “No” to MC when he proposed to me?
What would I do – I was the luckiest woman in the world and yet I was asking myself, “What would I do if I had my chance again?” How ridiculous!
If chances were to be seized, I guessed I had seized them well already. I was a Cinderella, and I had my chance.
Indeed, I had met my prince. I had fallen in love with him. We had got married. But the fairy tale always ends with the happy marriage. What happens after the marriage? Nobody ever knows.
Sometimes I do wonder – how many pairs of glass stilettos have been left on the Earth? How many Cinderallas have had a “happily-ever-after” marriage?
Might be I should already feel blissful because I was one of the luckiest girls – so called by other people. Might be I should already feel blissful because I had had my dance – and why should I care about the story after the fairy tale?
But the fact stroke me as the first rain in winter – the princess was no longer the princess but an abandoned wife! I determined, at that moment, that I would continue my story – the fairy tale of Cinderella should not just end like this!
I contacted MC’s secretary for an appointment. And while waiting for him in the coffee shop, I thought to myself, “How ridiculous! I’m his wife and yet I have to meet him with an appointment.” MC came in and sat down opposite to me. He ordered a black coffee and I added three spoons of sugar into it. Everything was as usual. Yet everything would not be usual anymore.
I controlled myself and did not let my weakness overcome me. I said, “I’d like a divorce.”
As plain as that, I said it finally.
MC did not say anything at first. An awkward silence remained between us.
Finally he nodded, and said that he would arrange “that issue” with his solicitor. Our meeting ended with an awkward hand shaking.
I did not know why we would shake our hands at the last minute, but I was pretty sure I had turned a new page for my life already.
