You Are My World
Tom and Emily lived in the same building, on the fifth floor, just two doors apart. Tom had just started Year 5 and was considered responsible enough to look after five-year-old Emily whenever her mother, a surgeon, was called in for emergencies on weekends.
Tom took his role seriously—feeding her, scolding her when needed, and always standing up for her. Emily, in turn, obeyed him without question, trailing after him like a shadow with her wide, dark eyes full of admiration.
One summer, Emily caught tonsillitis—how she managed to fall ill in June, no one knew. Tom spent the whole weekend looking after her. His mates knew where to find him. They rang Emily’s doorbell, shouting for him to come down for a kickabout.
“Can’t,” Tom said firmly. “Looking after Em.”
“Bring her with you! She can watch,” suggested Alfie.
“She’s got a fever. Doctor’s orders. You’ll have to play without me today.”
“How? Who’s going in goal?” snapped an annoyed Paul.
“Take turns,” Tom shot back, eyeing their disappointed faces.
“Not the same. We’re not playing then.”
“Fine, come up,” Tom sighed, letting them in.
Emily sat on the sofa, a scarf wrapped around her throat, flipping through a picture book. Her face lit up when she saw the boys.
“These are my mates—Paul and Alfie,” Tom introduced them. “Mind if they stay awhile?”
“Read to me?” she asked, pushing the book toward them with childish innocence.
“Let’s build a den instead,” Paul suggested, eyeing the round table in the middle of the room.
“How? We don’t have branches or straw,” Emily said, her eyes sparkling—whether from fever or excitement, it was hard to tell.
“Don’t need straw. Can we take the blanket off the sofa?” Paul asked. “We’ll drape it over the table—instant den.”
One blanket wasn’t enough. Emily told Tom where to find an extra throw in the cupboard. Soon, all four of them were squeezed under the table—hot, stuffy, dark, and thrilling.
“Let’s tell scary stories,” Alfie suggested. “My great-grandad fought in the war.”
“Boring,” Paul groaned.
“You wouldn’t say that if you saw his medals! He delivered bread through enemy lines—proper hero.”
“Still dull. War stories are lame,” Paul muttered.
“You don’t know anything. He said people were so desperate, they ate cats, dogs, even… each other. Bread was made with sawdust.”
“Gross! You can’t eat people!” Emily shuddered, pressing closer to Tom.
“I know scarier stories—about the Shadow Man,” Paul said eagerly. “We told them at camp last year. Proper creepy.”
Emily froze. The word *shadow* alone sounded terrifying in the dark. At “creepy,” she started shaking.
“He’s all in black. If you’re not careful, he snatches you away, and you’re never seen again. Disappears like smoke. Loves kids who wander off alone—”
“Enough!” Tom cut in sharply, feeling Emily tremble against him. “She won’t sleep tonight. She’s just a kid.”
“I’m *not* little,” Emily pouted. “But I don’t want to hear about the Shadow Man. Too scary.” Her voice wavered, on the verge of tears.
The front door clicked open. The children fell silent. Slow footsteps approached, then stopped right outside. Paul fidgeted; Alfie’s breathing turned ragged. Emily buried her face in Tom’s chest, her ear pressed to his pounding heart.
Suddenly, the blanket lifted. Emily shrieked, eyes squeezed shut.
“Found you!” Her mother’s voice rang out.
“Mama!” Emily scrambled out, flinging herself forward.
“Why is the table covered? What on earth are you doing?” Her mother eyed the disheveled boys emerging from their makeshift den.
“It was a den. We told scary stories,” Emily babbled.
“Weren’t you frightened?”
“Terrified! When I heard footsteps, I thought the Shadow Man got us.”
“The *what*?” Her mother’s sharp gaze landed on Tom, who ducked his head guiltily.
“Right. Tidy this up, wash your hands. Lunch in five.”
After lunch, Tom and the boys finally went to play football. Emily napped, but every time she closed her eyes, the Shadow Man lurked in her dreams.
When Tom started secondary school, Emily was just beginning primary. He was too grown-up to babysit now—and she was old enough to stay alone. Still, she’d dart over to ask him things or hide during thunderstorms. Storms terrified her.
If Tom and his mates went to the cinema or ice skating, Emily always begged to tag along. If they refused, she’d deploy tears masterfully—until Tom caved.
He taught her to skate, heat soup in the microwave, and love adventure books. By sixth form, Tom went to the cinema with a pretty classmate, Lucy. Once, Emily spied them kissing behind the shops. Her childish heart twisted with jealousy.
After graduation, Tom left for Sandhurst. Home visits were rare. Emily was relieved—no girls around—but missed him terribly.
Once, he returned on leave. His parents were out, so he knocked next door. Seeing him in uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, Emily flushed. Tom, too, seemed to *see* her properly for the first time—no longer a little girl.
Over lunch, his eyes kept drifting to her. Her lashes fluttered under his gaze, cheeks pink. He spoke of his training, future postings—as if every word was for her alone. Her heart raced. Then his parents returned, and he left without another word. Emily didn’t see him again before he departed.
After Sandhurst, Tom was stationed abroad. Emily studied medicine. Three years later, he came home on leave. She waited by the window, heart pounding at every footstep outside.
“He’s a grown man. He’ll marry soon. You need to focus,” her mother said. Emily knew, but couldn’t accept it. Days passed. Pride stopped her from seeking him out.
Then, from the window, she saw a taxi pull up. Tom stepped out—but instead of heading inside, he opened the rear door. A pregnant woman took his arm. Emily’s heart shattered. *He’s married. A father soon.*
She locked herself in her room and sobbed. *Forget him.* But how? He was everywhere—in her thoughts, her dreams. She convinced a friend to escape to Edinburgh for a few days.
When she returned, Tom was gone. Heartache faded to numb sorrow. After uni, she worked in her mother’s department—but surgery wasn’t for her. She couldn’t distance herself from patients’ suffering. Instead, she joined a rehabilitation centre for spinal injuries.
Years passed. Now “Dr. Emily Carter,” respected by colleagues and quietly adored by male patients, she remained detached. Then a new patient arrived—a wounded officer. *So handsome. Pity if he’s left disabled,* the nurses whispered, flirting shamelessly. His quiet reserve earned him the nickname “Heathcliff.”
Emily recognized him instantly—the man who haunted her dreams. But behind the surgical mask, he didn’t know her.
One stormy afternoon, thunder cracked like splitting stone. Emily flinched.
“Afraid of storms?” Tom asked, amused.
“Yes. Boys used to scare me with stories… about the Shadow Man.”
He studied her. “Emily?” Finally, it clicked. “You work here? I’ve thought of you often. Are you… married?”
“Are *you*?” she countered.
“No. Never found anyone like you.”
“But—I saw you with a pregnant woman…”
“Ah! An officer’s wife. He couldn’t get leave, so I escorted her to her parents. They had a son. We celebrated for days.”
Emily’s breath caught. All these years, she’d assumed… Too proud to ask, too afraid to stay. Time wasted.
Another thunderclap made her jolt. Instinctively, she leaned toward him—just like childhood.
“Remember our den under the table? How you screamed when your mum lifted the blanket?” Tom asked softly.
Her brightest memory. She smiled but stayed professional. “I’ve got patients. Talk later?”
He nodded.
Next day, he returned with flowers. “Never gave you any. Making up for lost time.” His smile was bittersweet. “I leave in an hour.”
“So soon? Your treatment—your unit—?”
“Medical discharge. My dad’s ill. Emily, I need to—”
“Dr. Carter, the consultant needs you,” a nurse interrupted, blinking flirtatiously at Tom.
By the time Emily finished, he was gone.
Two weeks later, he barged into her office mid-consultation.
“Before you vanish again—” His voice trembled. “I’m not leaving. I can’t live without you. Marry me.” He held out a velvet ring box.
Stunned, she barely noticed theTears spilled down her cheeks as she whispered, “Yes,” and finally, after all the years of longing and loss, their hearts beat as one.
