Emma had been a lover for years, never quite catching the marriage train. She lingered in the single life until she was thirty, then finally decided she wanted a man of her own. At first she didnt know that Mark was already married, but the moment he realised shed grown attached, he stopped pretending.
Emma never blamed Mark. She scolded herself for the affair, for the weakness that had drawn her to him. She felt inferior, as if shed missed the proper moment to pick a husband while the clock ticked away.
She wasnt uglyjust plainly pretty, a little round, the sort of look that hinted at age. Their relationship drifted nowhere. Emma didnt want to stay a lover, yet she couldnt ditch Mark either; the thought of being alone terrified her.
One afternoon her cousin Tom dropped by, on a work trip through the town of Ashford. They caught up over tea in the kitchen, reminiscing about childhood games and the present day. Emma spilled the whole of her love life, tears slipping down her cheeks.
Just then the neighbour, Mrs. Clarke, popped in to show off her latest market finds. Emma stepped out for twenty minutes. The doorbell rang while she was away. Tom answered, assuming Emma had returned, but the front door was ajar. Standing on the step was Mark, looking bewildered at the sight of a hulking man in tracksuit pants and a Tshirt, chewing a ham sandwich.
Is Emma home? Mark asked, his voice cracking.
Shes in the bathroom, Tom guessed, trying to keep calm.
Excuse me, who are you to her? Mark stammered.
Im her partner. Not married, just living together, Tom said, stepping closer and grabbing Marks shirt. Arent you the married bloke Emma told me about? Listen, if I see you here again Ill shove you down the stairs, understand?
Mark wriggled free and fled down the hallway.
Emma returned to find Tom, breathless, describing the strange visit.
What have you done? Who sent you? she sobbed. He wont come back.
Tom sat her down, his eyes soft. He wont, and thats for the best. Stop whining. Ive got a good prospect for youa widower in the village of Littlebrook. The women there wont bother him after his wife died, and hes turned everyone down. Hes looking for someone to share his life. Ill be back after my next trip, and well go together. Ill introduce you.
Emmas face paled. I cant I dont know anyone there. It feels wrong, like cheating on a ghost.
Tom chuckled. Its not cheating on a ghost, darling. Its meeting a new man on his birthday. Trust me.
A few days later Emma and Tom were in Littlebrook. Toms wife, Anna, had set a garden table near the old bathhouse. Neighbours, friends and Toms old comrade, the widower James, arrived for a village fête. Emma had never met James before.
After a warm gathering, Emma returned to the city, thinking James seemed quiet and shy. He must be grieving his wife, she mused. Poor soul, not many hearts left for him.
A week later, on a lazy Saturday, the doorbell rang. Emma wasnt expecting anyone. She opened it to find James on the doorstep, a tote bag in his hand.
May I step in, Emma? I was just passing through on my way to the market and thought Id pop by since weve met, he said, rehearsing a polite phrase.
She invited him in, still puzzled, and offered tea. Did you get everything you needed? she asked.
Got the bagful of groceries. And a little something for you. He pulled out a modest bouquet of tulips and handed it to her. Emmas eyes lit up.
They sipped tea, chatted about the weather and the price of tomatoes. When the pot was empty, James stood, slipping on his coat and shoes. At the threshold he turned back, his voice trembling.
If I left now without saying anything, Id never forgive myself. Ive thought about you all week, honestly. I couldnt wait for the weekend, so I came straight here. I got your address from Tom
Emma blushed and looked down. We hardly know each other
Its fine, really. May I call you by your first name? Im not a gift, I know that. I have a little girl, eight, staying with her grandma at the moment. His hands shook slightly.
The daughter is a blessing, Emma whispered, her voice dreamy. Ive always wanted a child.
Encouraged, James took Emmas hands, drew her close, and kissed her. When he pulled back, tears glimmered in her eyes.
Do you find me unpleasant? he asked, bewildered.
No, quite the opposite. I never expected this, but it feels sweet and calm. Im not stealing anyones love.
From then on they met every weekend. Two months later they married in Littlebrook, Emma taking a job at the local nursery. A year after, a daughter was born, and later a second child. Their little family grew, each child cherished, love spreading evenly like warm sunlight.
James and Emma grew younger in spirit, their love maturing like fine wine left to breathe.
At gatherings, Tom would wink at Emma and say, Well, love, which husband did I set you up with now? Youre getting better every day. Ill never steer you wronglisten to your brother!
