**One Whole**
Some may doubt it, while others are certain—there are two halves destined to find each other and become one. And nothing, absolutely nothing, can tear them apart except death itself. That’s beyond argument.
Love, devotion, care, loyalty—these are the feelings that flourish in loving families, in true families. Where husband and wife are one.
That’s how Emily and James lived. They married for love, supporting each other from the very beginning, always caring.
“Em, watching you and Jamie together—you just fit, like you’re made for each other,” her friend Charlotte laughed.
“We’re two halves of one whole,” Emily replied with a chuckle, though she didn’t give the words much thought. It was just something she said.
“You’re lucky, Em. I wish I could find someone like that.”
“You will, just keep looking,” Emily reassured her.
Years passed. Emily and James had two sons, raising them with love and tenderness. James never raised his voice—not at his wife, not at the children. Emily was just as calm. Their family was strong, kind. They holidayed together, visited their countryside cottage. No one had a bad word to say about them.
James worked as a department head in a construction firm, while Emily taught history at a secondary school. Their boys did well in school, played sports. The eldest finished school and went to university; the youngest was still in sixth form.
One evening, James came home and lay silently on the sofa, feeling unwell. He didn’t want to worry Emily, but she noticed immediately—he never rested right after work.
“Jamie, what’s wrong? You look pale,” she asked, concerned.
“Just a bit off, weak. Don’t fret, it’ll pass. Happened before…”
“Before? When?” Emily was surprised.
“At work once. It went away. I’ll rest a bit—I’ll be fine.”
Emily called him for dinner, but he refused. “Go ahead, love. Not hungry.”
She picked at her food, uneasy. James never complained about his health.
“Forty-three isn’t old. He’s in his prime. I’ll make him see a doctor,” she thought, sitting alone at the kitchen table.
James lay thinking too. “What’s wrong with me? I’m strong, but this weakness—I don’t want her worrying. Maybe just a rest will help.”
By morning, he seemed fine. They went their separate ways—James to the construction site, Emily to school. But soon, she noticed he’d grown thinner, gaunt.
“Jamie, are you sure you’re alright?”
“Just tired sometimes…”
“That’s it. I’m booking you a doctor’s appointment. This isn’t normal. My gut’s telling me something’s wrong.”
When Emily heard the diagnosis, she refused to believe it.
“Doctor, is there any chance of a mistake?”
“No mistake. Your husband’s tests confirm it—cancer. But it’s not advanced yet. We’ll fight. He mustn’t lose hope—neither must you.”
At home, Emily locked herself in the bathroom, turning on the tap to muffle her sobs. “I won’t believe Jamie could die. I won’t accept it. I know how cruel this disease is—my father died of it. Medicine just buys time…”
She dried her face, washed the dishes. James watched TV, already knowing. He hid his fear, for her sake.
Both were thinking the same thing, pretending nothing was wrong.
Finally, Emily spoke. “Jamie, let’s not hide from each other. I know you’re scared. I feel it. But you must fight. We’ll fight together. If you give up, I’ll never forgive you. Promise me?”
She remembered every hardship they’d faced—the fire that destroyed their first home, leaving them with nothing. His brother and sister, whom they’d thought family, turned away, saying they had their own troubles. Yet they’d rebuilt.
Now, Emily often reminded him, “We’ve survived everything together. We’ll survive this too.”
She cited moments when all seemed lost, yet they’d found a way. Now, with their sons grown, their lives settled—how could he leave her? No. She’d fight for him. They were one.
Evenings, she pretended to browse her laptop, thoughts racing. “After all we’ve built, he can’t go now.” She pleaded with him, “Fight, Jamie. Don’t lose heart. I’ll be with you—nurse, healer, wife, friend. I want you well more than you do.”
James listened silently. He knew the prognosis. But one day, he smiled. “Alright, Em. Let’s fight. I’ve nothing to lose. I won’t leave you alone.”
Emily’s heart lifted. “He believes me. Believes in us. Together, we’re unstoppable.”
Time passed. They fought. Emily cheered him; James managed smiles. Over a year later, the doctor had good news—James was improving. His spirits rose; Emily smiled more.
Then, the day came: James had beaten it. Their joy was boundless. Emily hardly understood how they’d done it.
“Simple. We refused to let go. Love won.”
Charlotte was thrilled for them, though her own marriage faltered. She and John had seemed happy, their daughter grown.
“Charlotte, you’re two halves of one whole,” Emily often said. “John’s devoted to you.”
Then, Charlotte arrived in tears. “Em, John’s leaving. For another woman. A year, he says—and I never knew.”
When John left, Charlotte didn’t scream or beg. She just said, “I love you, John. No one else. You’ll miss me. I’ll always wait.”
To Emily, she said, “He’ll come back. No one loves him like I do. We’re one. We’ll overcome this—just like you and James.”
Privately, Emily doubted it. John had left for a younger woman. Five years passed without a word.
Then, Charlotte called, calm as ever. “Em, he’s back.”
Not his return, but her tone stunned Emily. “That’s wonderful, Charlotte!”
“Of course he came back. We’re one. It was just a misunderstanding.”
Charlotte never mentioned those five years. Even now, she says, “Loving and being loved—that’s our nature. Our destiny. What makes us happy.”
So Emily and Charlotte remain friends, their husbands too, grateful they weathered every storm—together.
