Olivia had been begging her husband for months 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, recently turned ninety-eight, and every visit might be the last. But Edward kept making excuses—work, exhaustion, or just plain reluctance.
“Please, just this once,” Olivia pleaded, “you remember she promised to tell us that secret—the one that kept her and great-granddad from ever divorcing. But only if we came together…”
Edward scoffed.
“If this secret’s so powerful, why haven’t you shared it already?”
“Because she swore to only tell us both at the same time. Said they were magic words—something every couple should know. She and great-granddad were married sixty-two years. Till the day he died. Never even thought of splitting up.”
Edward sighed. He didn’t believe in magic or old-world advice. But the hope in his wife’s eyes made him relent.
“Fine. But we’re not staying long. In, out, done.”
Mabel greeted them from her neatly made bed. Despite her age, her gaze was sharp, full of quiet strength. She smiled faintly at Olivia, then studied Edward for a long moment.
“So, you’ve come for the words, then?”
“Yes, Gran,” Olivia nodded eagerly. “The secret that holds a marriage together. We’re ready.”
The old woman closed her eyes briefly, then whispered:
“An old vicar gave us this secret. We married in a remote village chapel—no other churches nearby. And he told us: *‘Remember: divorce is just one step away.’*”
Edward frowned.
“One step?”
“Yes. One wrong step. One harsh word said in anger. One glance over your shoulder, one night you stay out too late. It’s easy to wreck a marriage. But keeping it? That’s work. Every time you argue, or hurt each other, or think the worst—remember those words. *Divorce is just one step away.* Take that step, and you might never find your way back.”
Silence filled the room. Olivia looked down. Edward stood, walked to the window, and stared outside for a long while. Then, quietly, he said:
“My parents split when I was ten. It all started with one step. Dad stayed at a mate’s overnight. Mum didn’t believe him. Word by word, it all fell apart.”
He turned to his wife.
“Lately… you and I have been toeing that line too.”
Olivia nodded, blinking back tears.
They drove home hand in hand, not speaking, their fingers locked tight as if afraid to let go. As they pulled up to the house, Edward suddenly stopped, pulled Olivia close, and whispered:
“Let’s promise each other—we’ll never take that step.”
Olivia nodded, and in that moment, they both understood: now they had more than just a memory of Gran. They had an anchor. Just one phrase—and a whole life could shift.
