Emily had spent weeks persuading her husband to visit her great-grandmother, Mabel Winthrop, in the countryside. The old woman lived alone in a tiny cottage on the edge of the village. At ninety-eight, every visit could be her last. But James kept making excuses—work, exhaustion, or just plain reluctance.
“Come on, please,” Emily pleaded. “You remember she promised to share that secret—the one that kept her and great-granddad together for sixty-two years. But only if we both go.”
James rolled his eyes. “If it’s such a miracle cure, why haven’t you told me before?”
“Because she swore she’d only say it with both of us there. Called them the magic words every couple ought to know. Sixty-two years, not a single thought of divorce. That’s got to count for something.”
James sighed. He didn’t believe in magic or century-old advice. But seeing the hope in Emily’s eyes, he relented. “Fine. But we’re not staying long. In, out, back home before tea.”
Mabel greeted them propped up on her neatly made bed. Despite her age, her gaze was sharp and steady. She smiled faintly at Emily, then studied James for a long moment.
“So, you’ve come for the words, then?”
“Yes, Gran,” Emily nodded eagerly. “The secret that holds a marriage together. We’re listening.”
The old woman closed her eyes briefly, then whispered: “An old vicar gave us this secret. We married in a tiny village chapel—only one for miles. He told us, ‘Remember: divorce is just one step away.'”
James frowned. “One step?”
“Aye. One wrong move. One harsh word spoken in anger. One glance over your shoulder, one day you leave and don’t come back. Breaking a marriage is easy. Keeping it takes work. Every time you argue, every time you’re tempted—remember this. Divorce is just one step away. Take it, and there may be no turning back.”
Silence settled over the room. Emily looked down. James stood, walked to the window, and stared out for a long while. Then, quietly, he said, “My parents split when I was ten. Started with one step. Dad stayed at a mate’s. Mum didn’t believe him. Then word after word, until everything fell apart.”
He turned to Emily. “We’ve been close to the edge lately, haven’t we?”
She nodded, blinking back tears.
They drove home hand in hand, not speaking, fingers tightly laced as if afraid to let go. When they pulled up to the house, James suddenly stopped, pulled Emily close, and whispered, “Let’s promise each other—we’ll never take that step.”
Emily nodded, and in that moment, they both knew—they didn’t just have a memory of Gran now. They had an anchor. Just one phrase, and a whole life could change.
