He called her a wretched servant and walked away. But when he returned, he got an unexpected surprise.
You see, he branded her a “pitiful maid” and left for another. Yet upon his return, he faced a reply he never saw coming.
Emily had always heard the same phrase from her grandmother and mother: “In this family, the women never have luck in love.” Her great-grandmother was widowed at twenty-two, her grandmother lost her husband in the factory, and her mother was left alone with a baby before Emily even turned three. She didnt believe in curses, but deep down, she feared her own love would end in heartbreak. Still, despite herself, she dreamed of a home, a husband, children warmth.
Her future husband, James, worked in the same factory where she packed boxes. He was in another department, but they shared the canteen at lunch. That was how they fell in love. It all happened fasta few dates, a proposal, marriage. James moved into her two-bedroom flat, inherited from her grandmother. Her mother had already passed. At first, things were peaceful: their first child was born, then their second. Emily did her bestcooking, cleaning, raising the kids. James worked, brought home the money, but came home less and less, and conversation grew rare.
When he started returning late from work, exhausted, with the scent of another womans perfume on his shirt, she knew. She never asked, afraid of being left alone with two children. But one day, she broke.
“Think of the kids, please. Im begging you.”
He stayed silent. Just a cold stare. No explanations. No shouting. The next morning, she served him breakfast, and he didnt even touch it.
“Youre only good for being a maid,” he said, disgusted.
A week later, he was gone. He packed his bags and shut the door.
“Dont leave us, please!” she cried in the hallway. “The kids need their father!”
“Youre a wretched servant,” he repeated, walking away. The children heard. The two boys, sitting hand in hand on the sofa, didnt understandwhat had they done wrong? Why had their father left them?
Emily refused to be crushed. She lived for them. Worked as a cleaner, scrubbed stairwells, hauled buckets, taught the boys to read, and handwashed clothes when the machine broke. The children grew up fast, helping however they could. She forgot about herself, about dreams. But fate has a way of surprising you.
One day in the supermarket, she dropped a box of tea. A man picked it up and smiled.
“Need help with those bags?”
“Its fine,” she replied absently.
“Ill help anyway,” he said, already lifting her shopping.
His name was William. He started appearing at the shop every day, then walking her home, until he turned up at her building to help with the cleaning. The boys were wary, but he was kind, patient. At their first dinner together, he brought a cake and white roses. When the eldest teased,
“Did you play basketball?”
He laughed.
“In school, yeah. Long time ago.”
Later, he confessed,
“I had an accident. I speak slowly, move with difficulty. My wife left me. If you dont like it, I understand.”
“If the boys like you, stay,” Emily answered.
He proposed. And asked to speak with the boys.
“I want to be a real father.”
That night, she explained to her sons. They hugged her.
“Our dad left and forgot us,” the youngest said. “Itd be nice to have a dad who stayed.”
And so, William became family. He taught the boys football, helped with homework, fixed shelves, laughed with them. The house filled with life. Years passed. The boys became men. Thomas fell in love and went to William for advice. Then, the doorbell rang.
At the door stood James.
“I was a fool. Take me back. Lets start over”
“Get out,” Thomas cut in.
“Is that how you speak to your father?!” James shouted.
“Dont speak to my son like that,” William said firmly.
“We dont need you,” the younger one added. “Weve already got a dad.”
They shut the door. For good.
Emily stood there, looking at the three menher protectors, her family, built with blood, sweat, and tears. And at last she was happy.
