Everyone else seemed to marry a lovely wife, yet I found myself with a foolish one.
She boasted to anyone who would listen that, after the wedding, wed have no trouble getting our own flat. According to her, the wedding gifts from the guests would cover it, and her family would lend a helping hand. The reality turned out rather differenther parents made it quite plain that, since shed insisted on marrying a no-hope estate agent at the age of twenty, without so much as a higher education, wed have to sort out the business of a flat ourselves. They practically laughed in our faces over our predicament, and I ended up bringing my wife back to my parents home.
My brother was already living there, his girlfriend expecting, and the house was cramped. Mum and Dad dropped several hints that it would be best for us to find a place of our own, at very least a small flat to rent. But I thought it wiser to save, build up enough to get a mortgage, and one day buy a proper house. My wife knew my plan and often said she longed for our own place. Yet, what did she do in the end? She put all our savings into shares.
For what purpose? To double our money, she said.
Mum nearly fainted when I explained it to her. It broke my heart, too, because the shares have been losing value and we cant sell without taking a lossor else we must wait, hoping prices might recover. So heres where we are: all our friends have homes and families, while were left with nothing more than a handful of shares!
Now my wife sits weeping, regretting having been taken in. She even paid people to “teach” her about investing. And I cant help but brood over divorce. My love isnt strong enough if I cant let this goall I think about is the money, money it took years to scrape together, vanishing before my eyes.
When I reflect on it all, perhaps our marriage was doomed from the outset. This whole affair is just further proof that Ive been walking through a cloud of bad luck ever since I married a foolish girl.
