I just had the strangest thoughtperhaps you and I arent a proper family at all, she murmured, nestled against him.
“How lucky I am to have you,” said William, pulling his wife closer.
“And Im happy to have you!” Emily replied.
“Who else would I be with?” He chuckled. “Only you. Youre the loveliest woman in the world.”
Emily didnt answer. Instead, she kissed his cheek and hurried to the kitchen to take the pie from the oven.
Tonight, the Willoughbys celebrated their silver wedding anniversary. Theyd decided to keep it simplejust the two of them and their children. There were two: James, a sixteen-year-old schoolboy, and Sophie, their daughter.
Sophie had recently graduated, found a job, and moved into a flat of her own, not far from work. Though Emily had protestedthere was plenty of room at homeSophie had insisted.
“Why waste money on rent?” Emily had said. “Your rooms here, we live happilywhy leave? Wait till you marry, then go.”
“Mum, I love you and Dad, but I want to try living alone,” Sophie had replied. “Anddont take this the wrong waybut your cooking is too good. Ill turn into a barrel if I stay. You stay slim no matter what, but I didnt inherit that. I have to watch my figure, and how can I resist your baking?”
Emily had laughed. Sophie looked nothing like her. Emily was petite, almost waifishpeople still mistook her for a teenager from behind. She never fussed over her appearance: no makeup, hair in a simple ponytail, plain clothes. Sophie, though, was a beautyshe took after William.
William had always been striking. Tall, well-built. Hed put on a little weight over the yearsno surprise, given Emilys pies. In his youth, hed been dazzling, and even now at forty-eight, he was handsome.
Emily knew she paled beside him, but shed long grown used to whispers behind her back. It didnt matter. To William, she was the loveliest woman alive.
***
When Emily met William, she was twenty, he twenty-two.
That September evening, shed been on her way to a friends birthday party when she stopped at a florists for a small bouquet. Inside, a young man was choosing flowers, the shopgirl eyeing him with open interest. Emily glanced at him tooit was impossible not to. He was impossibly handsome.
“With a face like that, he ought to be in films,” she thought. “Maybe he is?”
Just then, he turned to her. “Which bouquet do you preferthe red roses or the peonies?”
Startled, she answered, “Peonies, though most girls prefer roses.”
“Your girlfriend likes roses?” the shopgirl asked.
“My girlfriend?” He laughed. “I dont even know the woman Im buying these for.”
“Oh?” The shopgirl exchanged a glance with Emily.
“A mate dragged me to his cousins birthday,” he explained. “Couldnt show up empty-handed, could I?”
“If you take roses, you cant go wrong,” Emily said.
“Do you like them?” he asked suddenly.
She flushed. “II prefer wildflowers, but roses are lovely.”
“How funny,” he said. “I love wildflowers too. My mum picks them from the meadow near our cottage. Theyre quiet things, but if you look closelyastonishing.”
He bought the roses and left with a smile.
“Gorgeous, wasnt he?” sighed the shopgirl. “Like an actor.”
Emily agreed, bought chrysanthemums, and hurried to the party.
Her shock was real when she saw him there. He was introduced as William, a friend of the birthday girls cousin.
He seemed just as surprised to see her. All evening, his gaze kept drifting her way. Eventually, he sat beside her, and they talked.
What they spoke of, she didnt recall years later. He asked, she answered; he talked, she listened.
She couldnt fathom why he bothered. Across the room, her friend Violet glared.
When music started, Violet whisked William away to dance. He glanced back at Emily almost guiltily.
Later, he returned. And when she left, he offered to walk her home.
The next day, Violet ignored Emily entirely.
“Whats wrong?” Emily finally asked.
“You ruined everything!” Violet snapped. “Tom brought William for me. Id seen his photos, fancied him. And you flirted all night, then dragged him off! And you pretend to be so meek!”
Emily was stunned. “I didnt flirt! I wouldnt even know how. He just”
“Oh, please! What does he see in you?” Violet stormed off.
Emily felt ill. Had she really stolen him? Nosomeone like William would never want her. She was plain, quiet. Violet was vibrant, beautiful.
At home, she stared into the mirror. “Whod want me?”
The phone rang.
It was William.
They met that evening by the river. He was waiting with wildflowers. His smile made her heart stutter.
Their romance began. No one believed it would last. A man like him, with a girl like her? Impossible.
But William never looked at anyone else.
A year later, they married.
Not a day passed without him telling her she was the loveliest.
Once, a decade in, she asked why hed chosen her.
“Can anyone explain love?” he said. “But if I mustit was your eyes. So kind. Your voice, your scent, your soul. Youre like the wildflowers you love. Your beauty doesnt shout. Not everyone sees it. But I did. And Id never trade my wildflower for any rose.”
***
Their twenty-fifth anniversary dinner was warm, full of laughter. The children toasted themthe best gift of all.
At the center of the table stood a bouquet of wildflowers. William always brought them for her birthday in July, and every anniversary.
That night, as they lay in bed, Emily whispered, “WilliamIve been thinking. Perhaps were not a proper family at all.”
“Whys that?”
“In twenty-five years, weve never once fought. Is that normal?”
“Would you like to?” He grinned, tickling her.
“No, no!” She shrieked, squirming away.
“Then neither do I.” He kissed her.
