Emma, will you marry me?
James, blushing slightly, held out a velvet ring box to Emily. They sat in a cosy café filled with the scent of freshly baked scones, soft music playing in the background. His eyes sparkled with hope, his lips trembling just a little from nerves. When she hesitated, he added,
“So will you? Or?”
Emily, who had been smiling calmly, suddenly turned serious, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. She pushed aside her glass of sparkling wine and sighed.
“Jamie, I’m sorry but I cant!”
“What do you mean, you cant?” he stammered. “Weve been together five years. Unis behind us. Weve got good jobs, a flat of our own. Why not make it official? Dont you want us to be a family?”
She shrugged.
“Jamie, Im just not ready! I want to live for myself first! All that domestic blissSunday roasts, nappies, visiting relatives every weekendits not for me yet. I want to travel, go out with friends, do what I love. Im still young, lifes ahead of me! I dont want to be tied down right now.”
“So Im just baggage to you?” he muttered.
“Dont be ridiculous! Ive got other goals! Besides, arent we fine as we are? Loves what matters, right?”
Jamess face darkened.
“Other goals? I thought we wanted the same things! But no, youd rather flit about like that careless grasshopper from the fable!”
“Oh, so Im the grasshopper now! And youre the sensible little ant, planning my life for me? You dont care what I want?” she snapped. “You know what? Sod off!”
With that, the would-be bride stormed out, leaving James stunned.
Fuming, she marched down the street until she reached a park and collapsed onto the nearest bench. Anger boiled inside her like molten lava.
“Who does he think he is? Deciding my life for me! Were not even thirty yet, and he wants to lock me into domestic drudgery?”
Lost in her rage, she barely noticed the woman who sat beside heruntil a sharp, unpleasant smell hit her nose. A homeless lady, ragged and hollow-eyed, gestured to an empty bottle near Emilys feet.
“Mind if I take that?”
Emily glared.
“Ever tried getting a job? Youve got arms and legswork for a living!”
Normally, she had sympathy. But right now, she just needed to vent.
The woman nodded.
“I would, love. But whod hire the likes of me?”
“Whose fault is that?”
“Nobodys!” The woman fished a dog-eared cigarette from her pocket but tucked it away again. “They call me Maggie the Bag Lady. If I hadnt been such a fool when I was young, maybe I wouldnt be here. Mightve had grandkids by now, pickling onions in my own kitchen, ironing shirts for my husband. I was pretty like you once!” She coughed, grinning toothlessly. “Youth makes you think the worlds at your feet. Turns out, its not. I was in care, but I knew my worth. Lads flocked to me, but I turned my nose up. Wanted perfection. One blokeTom, an electricianadored me. Brought flowers, read poems, wouldve carried me in his arms! Reliable as they come. Everyone said I should marry him. Safe as houses, they said.” She sighed. “But no. Just Tom? Boring! I wanted a princesome posh bloke with a flash car, ready to lay the world at my feet. And marriage? Pfft. I was a free spirit!”
Emily leaned in, intrigued despite herself.
“What happened?”
Maggie shrugged. “I chased that dream. Partied hard, lived it up. Then I met this charmersweet-talked me, swore undying love. Next thing I knew, hed swindled me out of my council flat. Used me, then tossed me out like rubbish. No one to fight for an orphan like me. So here I am. And Tom? Married now, kids, nice house. Saw him once with his family. Hid behind a bus stoptoo ashamed. That couldve been me!”
She fell silent, staring into the distance before adding:
“Moral is, lovedont toss away what fate gives you. Chase dreams, and you might miss real happiness. A cosy homes worth more than princes and foreign adventures.”
With that, Maggie shuffled off, bottle in pocket.
Emily sat stunned, then defiance flared. “Her own fault! Id never be that daft.”
She stood, heading home, but the encounter left her unsettledlike her bright future had been smudged. Distracted, she stepped onto the road at a red light. A motorbike screeched
***
The hospital smelled of disinfectant and orangescourtesy of a chatty patient in a daisy-patterned gown.
“New girls awake! Howre you, love?”
Emily groaned. “Leg hurts.”
“Course it does! Mustnt dive under wheels, eh?”
Her bedside table overflowed with grapes, soup, custard tarts.
“Your hubbys a gem!” the woman said admiringly.
“Who?”
“James! Sat here all night. Popped in with these before work.”
Emily blinked. Had she married him and forgotten?
That evening, James returned with toiletries.
“Howre you feeling?”
“Alright.”
“Been to the loo?”
“What?”
“Doctor said stress might yknow. Need help?”
“No!”
“Sure? Ill carry you.”
A week passed with James tending to hermorning and night. Finally, she asked:
“Why does everyone think were married?”
He smiled sadly. “Only way theyd let me stay. Dont worryonce youre better, Ill back off.”
Emily studied himreally lookedand realised she never wanted to recover if it meant losing him.
“Jamie Ive been an idiot. But I dont want you to go. Marry me? Ill be the best wife, I promise.”
