Andrew got a call from his mum—she asked him to put up a shelf in her kitchen. The next day, he dropped by, but she wasn’t home. The flat was unlocked, just as she’d said. The shelf was there, right where she’d left it, but the drill… Where was it? Probably in the loft, buried under a mountain of old junk.
He climbed onto a chair, opened the hatch—and there it was, the drill! He tugged at the cord, which promptly tangled, and the drill slipped, knocking straight into a vase. It shattered into a million pieces. Andrew swore under his breath—he knew how much his mum loved that thing. He swept up the shards, hung the shelf, and left. Over the phone, he promised to buy her a new vase for Mother’s Day. But she wasn’t letting him off that easy—she went on and on about it for ages.
Time passed, but an identical vase was nowhere to be found. Then, just the Saturday before the big day, Andrew spotted it… in the hands of a woman. The shopkeeper confirmed it was the last one in stock. Andrew approached, apologised, and honestly explained how he’d smashed the vase and that his mum would never forgive him if he didn’t replace it.
The woman, whose name was Emily, paused, then smiled and handed it over. “Take it—save yourself from the mum guilt.” She picked a different one, and Andrew walked out with the prize.
Outside, they got chatting. He cracked a joke, she laughed, and before he knew it, he’d invited her over—for Mother’s Day, to meet his mum. Emily raised an eyebrow but agreed.
The next day, they showed up together. His mum was delighted with the vase and even more so with Emily. “See, love? Everything happens for a reason—no broken vase, no lovely girl in your life,” she chuckled.
From that day on, things changed. Andrew and Emily spent more and more time together—strolling through parks, debating films and books, making plans. He introduced her to his daughter, who was visiting for the holidays, and luckily, they hit it off straight away. Emily was touched by Andrew’s kindness and how much he cared. His mum often joked about that fateful day, insisting the smashed vase was destiny. Emily herself marvelled at how one chance encounter could lead to something so meaningful.
Six months later, they tied the knot. It was a small, cosy affair. Andrew’s mum raised a toast, once again thanking fate for that shattered vase. And as Andrew looked at his wife, he knew he’d found the one he’d been waiting for. Every time he passed that shelf, he’d smile, remembering how one broken vase led him to a happiness he’d never dared to hope for.
