She realised: her motherinlaw was ill, hiding the diagnosis from everyone while still fretting over herher daughterinlaw. Even now she was thinking of how to secure Emilys stability, future, protection. Yet why sell the cottage and heirlooms when a simple request for help would suffice?
Hartley, I need the client visited by someone I can trust completely. Who better than you to handle this? the director asked, his gaze fixed on the young associate.
Anything you wish, Mr. Samuelson, Emily replied with a smile, nodding.
Most of the staff shunned field work, preferring the safety of the office, but Emily was different. She faced every task with optimism, never asking unnecessary questions, never complaining. Movement is life, she liked to say whenever a client call sent her out. She wasnt a delivery driver, yet the directors request seemed trivial to her. Plus, each trip earned a bonuswhy turn it down?
That day was no exception. Even when the assignment arrived near the end of the shift, Emilys spirit did not falter. She thought she could pop into her motherinlaws housejust a stones throw from the clients address. She could bring sweet biscuits, brew tea, share news. The real news: she and James had finally finished the nursery renovation, preparing for their first child. Though the baby had not yet arrived, Emily hoped for the two prized teststrip lines that would confirm pregnancy. Smiling to herself, humming softly, she headed for the lift, clutching a stack of documents to be signed.
Such a naive girl, thinking this will lift her up, whispered the colleagues, throwing ambiguous looks her way.
They shouted louder, but Emily did not hear. Their chatter did not touch her. She never dreamed of climbing the corporate ladder through frantic errands; any promotion would come only through merit and proven competence.
Her life will be hard; shes too trusting, like a stray dandelion.
Emily froze for a heartbeat, then decided not to answer. Why make a scene over trifles? Let them think what they will. If they disliked her temperament, that was their problem. She was content with herself and her life. Her softness and pliancy helped her find common ground, avoid conflict, but it did not mean she was weak. When needed, she could stand her ground, though she would not argue over petty things.
After finishing the clients paperwork, Emily slipped into a bakery, bought her favourite Hartley scones, and headed for the private estate. She gave no warningshe wanted a surprise. Mrs. Hartley was always home at that hour, and Emily was certain the woman would be delighted. Their relationship was warm and trusting. When James first introduced Emily to his mother, she embraced her as a daughter. Gifts, care, support in family squabblesMrs. Hartley was always on Emilys side. She had even befriended Emilys parents. Such a motherinlaw could only be envied. Emily felt she could discuss anything with her, even the most secret thoughts. Of course, a mother could not replace a wife, but Mrs. Hartley had become a dear confidante.
With the pastries in hand, Emily texted James that she would be late, then walked down a familiar lane. The Hartley cottageold, sturdy, built by her grandparentsstood on a quiet street. The woman had often urged young couples to move there, but Emily hesitated: the outskirts made the commute to work inconvenient. They dreamed of a house nearer the centre or in a leafy suburb, but that was for the future. For now, they had to value what they already possessed. A good home cost a small fortune, and they had not yet saved enough.
The gate was ajar, as were the front doors. From the kitchen drifted the mouthwatering scent of fresh baking. Perhaps Mrs. Hartley was airing the house, or perhaps she had guests? Emily slipped inside and immediately heard muffled voices.
£15,000 for the operation isnt coming together any time soon. I dont want the youngsters to fall into debt. Theyll live their lives, and Ill manage somehow. Ill queue for a private surgerylets see what happens.
Hello? How can you just give up? Lets raise the money! Youre still young! Will you just watch everything crumble?
What can I do Fate will decide. The only thing I want is to settle the inheritance. I plan to transfer the house to Emily as a gift. James and I are fine, but men are fickle. I once believed Id spend my whole life with a husband, and he left me and the child on the doorstep. You remember how I survived then? I dont want Emily to endure the same. Her parents will help, but I also want to give her a safety net. Ill give the house, the family jewellery. When a child arrives, theyll have a nook to hide. Im calm about my sonhell manage. Offending a woman is easy. I dont want to think of the worst, but better safe than sorry. I want her protected.
Tears welled in Emilys eyes, her heart tightening. She understood: her motherinlaw was ill, concealing the diagnosis while still caring for herher daughterinlaw. Even now she thought of securing Emilys stability, future, protection. Yet why sell the house and trinkets when a simple plea could solve it? Why not move in with them? They would figure something out together! Her mind buzzed, thoughts tangled. How she left the house, how she found herself at the bendEmily could not recall. She could not walk in and pretend nothing had happened. Every breath felt heavy, as if a thick band pressed on her chest. She did not know how serious her motherinlaws condition was, and she did not wish to alarm James prematurely. Yet remaining in ignorance was unbearable.
Strolling down the narrow lane, she suddenly saw Olive Burtonthe same friend of Mrs. Hartley she had spoken to at the house. The woman was heading to a bus stop, head bowed, sighing heavily as if bearing the worlds weight. Emily approached, nerves raw, and asked for the truth. Olive hesitated, then, seeing genuine panic in Emilys eyes, opened up. She promised no one would hear of their conversation, especially not the friend. Olive revealed everything: the diagnosis, the timeline, the cost of surgery, the endless waiting list. Time was of the essencesooner treatment meant better chances of recovery.
Emily rushed home and told James. He turned ashen, froze, then abruptly sprang to his feet. That night he called friends, begged for loans, searched for any escape. The next day they visited banks, applied for credit. Emily spoke to her parentswithout hesitation they offered aid. Olive scoured her acquaintances, spread the word, gathered whatever she could. Within a weeka astonishingly brief spanthe required sum was secured. Some donors gave without expectation of return; others said, Dont worry about repaying, just keep her alive. Mrs. Hartley phoned Emily to discuss the house transfer. She had not imagined the conversation would turn so far afield.
Emily arrived not alone. James and Olive escorted her. They handed Mrs. Hartley an envelope bulging with cashthe full amount for the operation. The woman stared between her friend and the money, then began to sob.
I asked you not to tell anyone
What, I spread the news all over the neighbourhood? Olive snapped. Your daughterinlaw caught me at the bus stop! She heard everything and wouldnt give up. Weve been friends forever! How could I stay silent and let you go? Fate brought us together that day! Weve gathered the fundsyou’re not alone, youre loved. Stop blaming yourself, go to the hospital and book the surgery. We cant lose you!
Mrs. Hartley wept like a child. James embraced his mother and begged her never to keep such secrets again. Its not just about you, he said, its about the whole family. Emily gently reproached her motherinlaw, Would you have acted the same if James and I had hidden our illness?
Were one family, Mrs. Hartley replied. The greatest thing is life, health, the ability to breathe, laugh, exist. Everything else will follow. Dont worry. The operation will be timely, everything will be fine.
The operation succeeded. Doctors gave a favourable prognosisthe danger passed. Emily visited the hospital daily: sometimes with James, sometimes with her mother, sometimes with Olive. A few days before discharge she shared the joyous newsshe was pregnant.
Get better soon, she beamed. A little one is on the way. Youll help us raise the child.
Mrs. Hartley was moved. She realised how fortunate her son was to have such a wife. Others might have stayed indifferent, but Emily had fought for her life. She learned that Emilys parents had sold their garage to contribute, and she felt boundlessly grateful. She dreamed of repaying the debt with kindness. Emily had become more than a daughterinlaw; she was a daughter.
Im incredibly lucky James chose you, Mrs. Hartley said, clasping Emilys hand. And hes lucky too. Your heart is the warmest Ive ever known.
Emily thought of something else. She understood that all relationships rested on reciprocity. When one meets the others kindness with kindness, the bond flourishes. But if a motherinlaw were cold, jealous, intent on belittling, would she ever receive warmth? No good heart can endure constant negativity.
Olive nevertheless insisted on transferring the house to Emily. Just in case, she said. She was sure Emily would never drive her out while she lived. The rest would unfold in time. For now, the priority was recovery, regaining strength. Ahead lay a new stage: awaiting a child, a future they began to build together.
Emily often recalled that day. If she had refused the trip, if she had not peeked into her motherinlaws home, if she had walked past who knows how it would have ended? Perhaps coincidences do not exist. Maybe every step leads us to where we are meant to be.
