Drifts of Chance
Matthew, a thirty-five-year-old solicitor, loathed New Years Eve. To him, it wasnt a celebration but more of a gruelling marathon.
The frantic rush to buy the perfect gift for colleagues he barely tolerated, and, of course, the office party. That year, his firm had decided to make a splash by renting out a countryside manor.
He drove out there in his immaculate black car, listening to a podcast on tax law, mentally rehearsing his plan: show up for an hour, sip a glass of champagne, dutifully chit-chat with senior staff, and slip away home without anyone noticing.
When he arrived, the manor already hummed like a disturbed hive. People in garish party clothes bustled about, laughing somewhat too loudly, trying to manufacture cheer.
Matthew accepted a glass and stationed himself by the wall, standing sentinel, observing the merry-go-round of forced merriment. He felt like an alien, stranded on a planet where being happy was a legal requirement.
***
Then he spotted her. The stranger wasnt the brightest or the loudest. She stood by a window, slightly apart, gazing at the blizzard raging outside.
She wore a simple navy dress and clutched a glass of juice. Still, she didnt look sad or lonelyinstead, lost in her thoughts.
Matthew realised she looked much as he felt.
Not great weather for getting back tonight, he ventured, approaching heranything to break the silence.
She turned and smiled. It wasnt the strained smile everyone else wore, but a genuine, warm one.
But look at it! she said, nodding out the window. Its beautiful, really. When the citys blanketed, it feels like the snow buries all the worries along with it.
Matthew was caught off guard. Of all the things hed expected, this wasnt it.
Matthew, he introduced himself.
Emily, she replied, shaking his hand, Im from accounts. Weve shared a lift a couple of times, I think.
They fell silent. But it was a comfortable hush, almost comforting.
The snowstorm grew fiercer. A loudspeaker announcement crackledthe roads were closed; everyone would have to stay until morning.
A ripple of disappointment and mild panic swept across the room.
Matthew silently cursed. So much for his carefully laid plan.
So, solicitor, ready to spend a night on a camp bed? Emily teased.
My training didnt quite cover this scenario, he smirked. And you?
I always bring a good charger and a book. Prepared for any disaster, Emily grinned back.
Stripped of plans and pretense, they finally began to talk.
***
It turned out Emily adored old black-and-white films. Matthew couldnt stand them, but promised to try watching one if she explained what made them special.
Matthew confessed he secretly dreamt of giving everything up to open a cosy coffee shop. Emily painted watercolours in secret, never showing her work to anyone.
They sat together out of the way, tuning out the hubbub, sipping hot tea from Emilys thermos instead of champagne.
She told him about her cat, who loved to chase snowflakes on the window ledge. He talked about his grandmother, who had taught him to bake honey cake.
When midnight struck, they didnt shout Happy New Year! They just looked at each other.
Happy New Year, Matthew, Emily whispered.
And to you, Emily, he replied quietly.
That night, they didnt sleep in fancy suites, but in a small lounge on two fold-out beds, set up by the staff for those stranded. Close to each other. They whispered into the early hours, as the blizzard outside finally started to ease.
In the morning, after the roads had been cleared, they stepped out into the white, silent world. The sun was dazzling, sparkling on the untouched drifts.
So, where will you go now? Matthew asked.
To the bus stop, I suppose. Home, Emily answered.
I could give you a lift, if you like.
She looked at him, eyes twinkling.
What if I told you I like this quiet, frozen world? And Id rather walk to the bus stop, just this once.
Matthew understood. This night wasnt just chance.
It was the beginning of something real.
Then let me walk with you, he said with certainty.
And side by side they went, leaving two sets of tracks across the fresh snow, on the first day of the new yearheading towards an unknown, brighter future.
Sometimes, its only when plans are swept away that life surprises us with something genuine and new.
