**Diary Entry 25th Wedding Anniversary**
Just now, I thought to myselfperhaps were some sort of *wrong* family.
*”Im so lucky to have you,”* said Alexander, wrapping his arms around me.
*”And Im happy to have you!”* I replied.
*”Who else would I be with?”* He laughed. *”Only you. Youre my fate. The best woman in the world.”*
I didnt answerjust kissed his cheek and hurried to the kitchen to take the pie out of the oven.
Today, the Hartleys celebrated their silver wedding anniversary. We kept it simple, just the two of us and our children. Our son, James, was in Year 11, and our daughter, Emily, had recently graduated from university, started her job, and moved into her own flat nearby.
*”Why waste money on rent?”* Id argued when she first mentioned moving. *”Youve got your room here, we get on so wellwhy leave? Wait till you marry, then move out!”*
*”Mum, I love you and Dad dearly,”* shed said, *”and I know youd never push me out. But I want to try living on my own. And dont take this the wrong way, but you cook *too* well. If I stay, Ill turn into an elephant! Youre luckyyou stay slim no matter what. I didnt get those genes. I have to watch my figure, and thats impossible living here. How could I resist your baking?”*
I smiled, studying her. Emily didnt look much like me. I was petite, almost waifishpeople still mistook me for a teenager from behind. My looks were plain, and I never bothered much with makeup or fashion. Emily, though, was a stunnershe took after her father.
Alexander had always been strikingtall, well-built. Age had softened him a bit (no surprise, given my pies), but even at 48, he turned heads. Id long grown used to whispers behind my back, but they never bothered me. To him, I was the most beautiful woman alive.
***
I met Alexander when I was 20 and he was 22.
That September day, I was on my way to my uni friend Charlottes birthday party. Id bought a gift beforehand but stopped at a florist for a small bouquet. Inside, the only customer was a young man, carefully selecting flowers while the shop assistant flirted shamelessly. I stole a glance and understood whyhe was *gorgeous*.
*”Someone like him belongs on film,”* I thought. *”Maybe hes an actor?”*
Then he noticed me. *”Which bouquet do you preferthe red roses or the peonies?”*
Flustered, I mumbled, *”Id pick peonies, though most girls prefer roses.”*
*”Are these for your girlfriend?”* the assistant asked him.
*”My girlfriend?”* He chuckled. *”I dont even know the girl theyre for. A mate dragged me to his cousins birthdaycouldnt show up empty-handed.”*
*”Take the roses,”* I suggested. *”You cant go wrong with roses.”*
*”Do *you* like roses?”* he asked suddenly.
I blushed. *”I love wildflowers best, but roses too. Everyone does.”*
*”FunnyI prefer wildflowers,”* he said. *”My mum brings them home from the countryside. Theyve got this quiet beauty. Easy to miss unless you really look.”*
He bought the roses, flashed me a smile, and left.
*”Handsome, isnt he?”* sighed the assistant. *”Like a film star.”*
*”I thought the same,”* I admitted.
At the party, my jaw droppedthere he was. Turned out his name was Alex, and hed come with his friend Thomas, Charlottes cousin. He seemed just as surprised to see me, smiling every time our eyes met. Later, he sat beside me, and we talked for hours.
I dont remember what about now. I only recall Charlotte glaring at me. When music started, she pulled him away to dance. He looked almost guilty as he leftbut later, he walked me home.
The next day, Charlotte ignored me at uni. *”Whats wrong?”* I finally asked.
*”You *know* whats wrong!”* she snapped. *”Thomas brought Alex for *me*. Id seen his photosI fancied him! And you flirted all night, then whisked him away!”*
*”I didnt flirt!”* I protested. *”I wouldnt even know how. He offered to walk me homethats all!”*
She scoffed. *”Right. And what does he see in *you*?”*
I spent the journey home agonising. Had I *really* stolen him? Meplain, quiet Lilycaptured the attention of someone like Alex? Charlotte was vibrant, pretty, surrounded by admirers. Someone like him would never choose me.
At home, I stared into the mirror. *”Whod want someone like you?”*
The phone rang. It was Alex.
We met that evening by the Thames. He was waiting with a bouquet of wildflowers. And when he smiled, I fell in love.
Our romance shocked everyone. No one believed someone like him would *seriously* want someone like me. They whispered it wouldnt lastthat a man used to attention would stray. But Alex never looked at anyone else.
A year later, we married. Not once in 25 years has he missed telling me Im the most beautiful woman alive. Only once, a decade in, did I ask why he chose me.
*”Can you ever explain love?”* hed said. *”But if I had to tryits your eyes. The kindness in them. Your voice, your laugh, your soul. To me, youre perfect. Youre like those wildflowersyour beauty doesnt shout. Not everyone sees it. But I did. And Id never trade my wildflower for any rose.”*
***
Tonight, our anniversary dinner was quiet, just us and the children. Their kind words were the best gift.
At the centre of the table stood a vase of wildflowers. Alex always gives them to meon my birthday in July, and every anniversary.
As we lay in bed, I said, *”Alex, Ive been thinking we must be a *wrong* sort of family.”*
*”Why?”* he asked, puzzled.
*”In 25 years, weve never once argued. Does that even happen?”*
*”Do you *want* to argue?”* He grinned, tickling me.
*”No, no!”* I squealed, squirming away.
*”Neither do I,”* he said, kissing me.
And that was that.
