You Could Miss It All
“Annie, will you marry me?”
Max, blushing, slid a velvet box across the table to Annie. They sat in a cosy café, the air rich with the scent of fresh pastries and soft music playing in the background. His eyes shone with hope, his lips trembling slightly from nerves. When she hesitated, he added, “So will you? Or?”
Annie, who had been smiling serenely moments before, grew serious, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. She pushed aside her glass of sparkling wine and sighed.
“Max, Im sorry, but I cant.”
“What do you mean, you cant?” he stammered. “Weve been together five years. Unis behind us. Weve got good jobs, our own flat. Why not make it official? Dont you want us to be a family?”
Annie shrugged.
“Max, Im just not ready. I want to live for myself first. All those joys of marriageSunday roasts, nappies, weekend visits to the in-lawsits not for me yet! I want to travel, go out with friends, do things that excite me. Im young, Ive got my whole life ahead! I dont want to be tied down now.”
“So Im just baggage to you?” he muttered, hurt.
“Dont twist my words! I just have different priorities! Besides, arent we fine as we are, without a piece of paper? Loves what matters, right?”
But Maxs heart burned with frustration.
“Different priorities? I thought we wanted the same things! Turns out youre still chasing nights out, like that silly grasshopper from the fable!”
“Oh, so now Im the grasshopper? And youre the righteous little ant, deciding everything for me? You dont care what I want?” Annie snapped. “You know what? Sod off!”
She stormed out of the café, leaving Max stunned.
Fuming, she marched through the streets until she reached the park. Slumping onto the first bench she saw, anger bubbled inside her like lava.
“How dare he! Thinks he can decide my life for me? Were not even thirty, and he already wants to lock me into domestic drudgery?”
Lost in rage, she barely noticed the woman who sat beside heruntil a foul smell hit her nose. A homeless woman, ragged and hollow-eyed, gestured to an empty bottle under the bench.
“Mind if I take that?”
Still seething, Annie glared.
“Ever thought of getting a job? Youve got arms and legsuse them!”
Normally kind, Annie just needed to lash out.
The woman nodded.
“I would, love. But whod hire the likes of me?”
“Whose fault is that?”
“No ones!” The woman chuckled, pulling a crumpled cigarette from her tracksuit pocket before tucking it away again. “Names Maggie the Bag. If I hadnt been such a fool when I was young, maybe I wouldnt be here now. Couldve had grandkids, a kitchen to cook in, ironing shirts for a husband. I was pretty like you once!” She coughed, grinning toothlessly. “Youth makes you think the worlds at your feet. Turns out, its not. I was in care, but I had my pick of lads. There was oneTom, an electrician. Decent bloke. Adored me. Brought flowers, read poetry, wouldve carried me in his arms. Everyone said I should marry him. Youll be safe with him, they said. But I turned my nose up. Wanted a prince with a posh name, someone rich and handsome whod lay the world at my feet. Didnt want to settle down eitherthought I was a free spirit, wanted to live life to the full.”
She trailed off, lost in memory.
“What happened then?” Annie asked, curiosity overtaking her anger.
Maggie shrugged. “Chased that dream, partied hard. Then I met this charmersmooth-talker, swore he loved me. Next thing I knew, hed swindled me out of my council flat. Used me, then tossed me out like rubbish. Knew no one would stick up for an orphan like me. So here I am. And Tom? Married now, kids, nice house. Saw him once with his family. Hid behind a bus stoptoo ashamed. Couldve been me there.”
She sighed. “Moral is, dont throw away what life gives you. Chase dreams too hard, and youll miss real happiness. A quiet home beats princes and far-off lands any day.”
Maggie stood, pocketed the bottle, and shuffled off.
Annie sat stunned, then defiance flared. “She was just daftlet herself be fooled. Not me!”
She trudged home, her bright dreams now smeared with grime. Distracted, she stepped onto a crossing against the lightand a motorbike slammed into her.
***
The hospital reeked of antiseptic and oranges, courtesy of a cheery patient in a daisy-patterned gown.
“Love a citrusy room!” the woman chirped, offering Annie a slice. “Youre awake! Howre you feeling?”
“Alright,” Annie mumbled. “Leg hurts.”
“Well, no wonder!” The woman tapped Annies cast. “Mustnt leap in front of traffic!”
Annie glanced at her bedside tablepiled with fruit, soup, her favourite custard tarts.
“Your hubbys doting!” the woman said enviously. “Brought enough to skip hospital meals!”
“Who?”
“Max, of course! Sat here all night. Popped back with these, then rushed to work.”
Annie frowned. Had she married him and forgotten? No, impossible.
That evening, Max returned with toiletries.
“Howre you?” he asked briskly.
“Fine.”
“Been to the loo?”
“What?”
“Doctor said stress might upset your stomach. Need help?”
“No!”
“Right. Grab my neck, then.”
For a week, Max visited daily, helping her wash, boil water for tea. Finally, Annie asked, “Why does everyone call you my husband?”
He smiled sadly. “Otherwise, they wouldnt let me in. Dont worryonce youre better, Ill back off. Thats what you want, isnt it?”
Annie stared at him, realising she never wanted to recoverif it meant hed stay.
“Max, Ive been such an idiot. Marry me? Ill be a good wife, I swear.”
P.S.May your life always have room for fairy tales, kindness, and a bit of magic. Cheers!
