**To Leave or To Stay**
Elizabeth opened the door and was surprised to see her daughter Emily standing there with a young man who offered a polite smile.
“Hello, Mum, this is James,” Emily said quickly, nudging him forward. “Thought it was time you met him. Is Dad not home?”
“Good evening,” James greeted, a little shyly, stepping inside.
Elizabeth smiled to put him at ease and nodded.
“Sorry for dropping in unannounced,” Emily chattered, “but we’ll just have tea and then head to the cinema.”
James was quiet but well-mannered, offering small smiles and brief replies.
“Mum, where’s Dad? I wanted him to meet James.”
“Oh, you know your father—tinkering in the garage, as usual. Said he needed to vacuum and wash the car himself. Won’t take it to the car wash, stubborn as ever.”
Before long, Emily and James were ready to leave. He thanked Elizabeth politely and bid her farewell.
“Such a well-spoken young man,” she thought as she closed the door behind them.
Emily was in her second year at university—already grown, though Elizabeth hadn’t quite noticed when it happened. Now her daughter sought advice constantly, asking how to handle this or that, as if expecting life’s answers to be handed to her.
Sometimes Elizabeth offered guidance, but there were moments she simply said,
“Love, there isn’t always one right answer. Life has its own way of setting traps, as if to remind us that timing matters as much as choice.”
Everyone’s path was different. Elizabeth, married for over twenty years, had spent much of that time at a crossroads. She remembered clearly the night her friend Lucy introduced her to Edward.
“Liz, this is Edward—Vince’s mate,” Lucy had said, pushing forward a tall, awkward-looking man who seemed entirely out of place at the university dance. “They work together. Vince’s been wanting to set him up with one of us for ages. Anyway, chat away!” With that, she vanished into the crowd.
The dance was in full swing. Elizabeth and Lucy had been nearing the end of their studies, and Lucy was set to marry Vince in a few months. Edward, however, stood stiffly, shoulders hunched as if embarrassed by his height, glancing around at the laughing students.
“Edward, do you study somewhere?” Elizabeth had asked, just to break the silence.
“No, I’ve been driving lorries for three years now. Did my time in the army before that.”
*Odd*, she had thought. *Most men come back from service tougher, broader.* Her own brother had. But Edward was still boyish, lean.
“Vince and I served together. Stayed mates after, got jobs at the same place. School was as far as I got. You and Lucy are at uni, then?”
He had smiled at her—a boyish, disarming grin—and despite herself, she had smiled back, though she had no intention of encouraging him. She didn’t fancy him. Not at all.
If someone had told her then that he would one day be her husband, she would have laughed.
But fate had a way of laughing back. Life would be dull, she supposed, if they knew where they’d end up.
Every time Edward asked her out, she told herself it would be the last. Just one more walk, one more chat, and then she’d refuse the next invitation.
Yet time passed, and she never did. Part of her pitied him—quiet, kind Edward—while another part admitted there were no other men in her life she could imagine marrying.
“Liz, how’s it going with Edward?” Lucy had asked once.
“Fine, I suppose,” Elizabeth had replied vaguely.
They had even been witnesses at Lucy and Vince’s wedding. By then, Elizabeth had graduated and found work. Still, she and Edward carried on, and somehow, she grew used to him. He was… steady.
She had finally asked her mother’s advice.
“Mum, I don’t know what to do. Edward’s talking about marriage, and I’m not sure. He’s reliable, hardworking, devoted—but he’s not well-read. Doesn’t care for books.”
“Darling, don’t fret over that. So he doesn’t read—he’s loyal, isn’t he? Looks at you like you hung the moon. Love grows with time.”
When Edward—blushing, nervous—proposed, Elizabeth had stared at the ring before finally smiling.
“Yes. But where are my flowers?”
“Oh, Lizzie, I—I forgot! The ring was all I could think about. I’ll buy you some, I swear!”
Later, she had wondered how they’d ever married. He was so ordinary, someone she hadn’t taken seriously for years.
Perhaps it was because all her friends had married, and she hadn’t wanted to be left behind. Or maybe she hadn’t trusted herself, despite being pretty—a little round, perhaps, but it suited her.
They became a family. Over time, like all couples, they accumulated shared responsibilities, relatives, and problems—most of which Edward handled without fuss. Yet the more their lives intertwined, the more she felt the gulf between them.
Dinner conversations revolved around bills and chores. She couldn’t discuss films she’d seen or exhibitions visited with friends. They even argued over what to watch on telly or where to go at weekends. Elizabeth always won, of course. Edward just agreed.
“Edward, must you watch cartoons? You’re not a child.”
“Are cartoons only for kids?”
She often thought his lack of education showed. She taught him table manners, how to behave in company, terrified he’d embarrass her. Especially when they were invited out.
The realisation had come at an office banquet, where she was to receive an award. Edward, feverish with a cold, had stayed home.
*Good*, she had caught herself thinking. *I won’t spend the evening worrying what he’ll say.* Perhaps it was time for a change.
She returned early, and Edward was glad to see her. She resolved to talk once he recovered.
But two days later, the doctor told her she was expecting.
“A baby? Yes, of course I’ll keep it,” she had replied, though the news unsettled her.
Edward had been overjoyed.
“Lizzie, I’ll love you even more now. Take such care of you—”
As if he didn’t already dote on her.
Years flew by. Emily grew up.
Elizabeth knew a child needed both parents, yet she still dreamed of leaving. But she postponed it. Emily was born, and Edward adored them both—feeding, bathing, walking her at night before Elizabeth could stir.
They lived quietly. No shouting, no smashed plates. But Elizabeth often felt stifled. The thought of divorce never left her.
When Emily started school, they walked her hand in hand, proud.
“Mum, Dad, I’ll get top marks! They told us in nursery that’s the best!”
“You will, love. Clever and kind, just like your mum,” Edward had said.
More years passed. Emily did well in school. Then Elizabeth’s parents died, one after the other, leaving Edward and her as each other’s only family. They lived peacefully. Emily went to university, started dating.
Watching friends’ marriages collapse—husbands drinking, cheating, shouting—Elizabeth sometimes lay in bed thanking God for her kind, steadfast man.
“Liz, you’re so lucky,” sighed Lucy, long divorced from Vince and raising two children alone. “Edward’s devoted. Still looks at you like you’re twenty. I keep searching for happiness, but it’s always just out of reach.”
“Yes, he’s dependable,” Elizabeth would reply with a smile.
She never spoke of the years she’d spent suffocating behind that unwavering kindness, how often she’d nearly left. *To go or to stay?* The choice had haunted her. But life always held her back.
Now, with Emily grown, Elizabeth doubted her daughter would understand if she left. And truthfully, she had no one else. They’d built a life, raised a child, achieved what they’d wanted.
Perhaps now was the time to walk away.
But no.
Now was the time to stay.
The golden years loomed ahead—and beyond them, old age. What waited around that next bend?
Perhaps nothing but the quiet comfort of the familiar.
