Lonely Lucy…
For several weeks, Lucy had been observing her new neighbour, who had moved into the flat across the hall on the ground floor. The newcomer was named Emily. She was around thirty, and her little daughter, Lily, was only four. Emily had divorced her husband and was now living independently, taking her daughter to the nursery just outside their building.
Lucy and Emily soon became acquainted, exchanging pleasantries and smiles whenever they met. Barely a week later, Lucy found herself babysitting little Lily on a Saturday.
“She’s quiet—she’ll just play with her dolls on the floor while you go about your business,” Emily explained. “Thank you for helping me out. I’ve got plans tonight, but I’ll be back before it gets too late. You’re a lifesaver!”
Lucy shrugged, and only after Emily hurried out of the building did it dawn on her—the young divorcee had gone on a date.
“Well, well… ‘plans’,” Lucy murmured, watching little Lily settle in the corner of the room, just as her mother had said.
Lucy’s own life hadn’t turned out as she’d hoped. At twenty-eight, she should’ve been settling down with a beloved husband and children, yet neither had come her way.
“You’re too old-fashioned,” her friends would say. “Always knitting instead of going out—dances, parties, meeting new people. If you sit around waiting for Prince Charming, you’ll waste your youth!”
Lucy agreed but did nothing. Shy about her slight plumpness and unremarkable looks, she never felt confident enough to put herself out there.
Now, as she often spent evenings with little Lily—whom she’d grown fond of—she couldn’t fathom how Emily could leave such a sweet child behind to chase after some man. To Lucy, family, and especially children, were a divine gift, and she adored Lily, reading to her, playing, and making clay figures together.
“Oh, Lucy, I’ll never be able to repay you,” Emily whispered one late evening as she collected her drowsy daughter. “You’re an absolute treasure.”
“What about Lily’s father?” Lucy asked once. “Does he visit her? She mentions him often—seems she misses him.”
“He would, but he’s away on business. Oh, those ‘business trips’! A month here, six weeks there… That’s why we split. But he’ll be back soon, and you’ll have a break—he’ll take her out. He spoils her rotten with toys, which is pointless. Extra money would’ve been better,” Emily scoffed.
Sure enough, Lily’s father soon appeared—a tall, fair-haired man who scooped her up outside the building and held her tight. Lucy caught the reunion by chance from her kitchen window and even teared up at how sincerely father and daughter delighted in each other.
Days later, Lucy met James—Lily’s dad—when he came to collect his daughter from her flat. It had become routine for Lily to dash to “Auntie Lucy’s” to play or watch cartoons while her mother ran errands.
“Thank you so much for looking after her,” James said warmly. “Lily adores you. She’s always saying, ‘My Lucy.’”
“Daddy, come have tea with us!” Lily called from the kitchen, nibbling a pastry.
“Quite right, join us! We’ve just sat down—help yourself,” Lucy invited.
James stepped into the kitchen, sat with his daughter, and tasted the pastry.
“Homemade? Really?” he asked, surprised.
“Of course,” Lucy replied. “Have another—enjoy! I bake often, hence the extra curves. I keep meaning to start a diet.”
“Why?” James frowned. “You look lovely as you are. I didn’t think young women baked these days—I assumed only grannies did, and only in the countryside before holidays!”
They laughed, and Lily giggled along, handing her father another treat.
“When I grow up. Lucy will teach me to bake too!” she declared. “I’ll make you lots of yummy pies!”
“Sounds perfect,” James agreed. “But we’d better head out—Mum will collect you soon, and we’ve not had our walk yet.”
“Mum won’t be back till nighttime,” Lily chirped. Lucy stayed quiet.
James’s face darkened. He took Lily outside but returned her to Lucy later, murmuring, “Couldn’t you take her overnight sometimes? She misses you.”
“I’ve thought about it. I start work early at the factory—live clear across town. It’s unfair to drag her up at dawn. Here, she’s got the nursery nearby, and her mother…” He trailed off. “But thank you. I’m thinking of moving closer.”
The next time James picked Lily up, he invited Lucy to join their walk. Surprised, she hesitated, but Lily clung to her.
“Come on, Lucy! I’ll show you how to make sand pies!”
So Lucy joined them in the nearby park, watching Lily play with friends under the warm summer evening. James grew tense as dusk fell—Emily still wasn’t home.
“When will she stop gallivanting?” he muttered, low so Lily wouldn’t hear. “This is why we split.”
Lucy said nothing.
“Does she even pay you for watching Lily?” he asked as they walked back.
Lucy shook her head.
“So you’re putting your life on hold. No dates, no time for yourself, no proper rest…” James scowled. “I assumed you had an arrangement.”
Lucy sighed. “We’re friendly neighbours. Lily’s become a little friend to me.”
“What about your own life, Lucy?” James asked bluntly. “Ever been married? Anyone special?”
“Never married, no children… not yet,” she admitted with a small smile.
“Hmm,” James murmured. Later, he tried to leave money on the sideboard. Lucy refused firmly.
“Fine. I’ll find another way to thank you,” he said before leaving.
That Sunday, as Lucy tidied her flat, the doorbell rang.
“Lily and I are taking our favourite girl out—for the town festival!” James announced cheerfully.
So the three of them went to a café together, while Emily, also heading out, watched from her window and smirked.
“Perfect match. She’s just your type—a pair of old boots.”
Emily never imagined how quickly her ex-husband and neighbour would become inseparable. Lily was the bridge that drew Lucy and James closer. Her bright voice echoed in the hallway as she dashed between flats, eager for walks with her dad and Lucy.
“Do you even know what he’s like?” Emily snapped one day, barging in as Lucy got ready for a date.
“I suppose so… But you’re divorced. Why do you care who he sees?”
“I’m not worried about him—it’s you, silly. Don’t throw yourself at the first man who glances your way, even if no one’s looked at you in years,” Emily hissed before leaving.
“Thanks for that,” Lucy muttered, sinking onto a chair, wiping her eyes… Then she stood, smoothed her hair, and walked out to meet James and Lily on their bench.
Neighbours watched the odd little drama unfold, speculating about Lucy’s future. She’d lived quietly in the building for over a decade, well-liked for her kindness and neatness.
“I went through my parents’ divorce too,” she confided to James one day. “I was a teenager. It hurt so much—I couldn’t understand why two people who loved me couldn’t stay together. I cried myself to sleep for months. Then they moved on, started new families in different cities, and I stayed here—close to my gran. There was no room or love for me in their new lives.”
James listened, unable to meet her eyes. Finally, he asked, “Is that why you help Emily? Refuse payment?”
“That’s why I help Lily. Because she’s me—just younger. I pray she doesn’t hurt as much as I did.”
“You’re wise and kind,” James said suddenly. “Marry me. Don’t say no straightaway—even if you don’t love me. Pity me, like you pity Lily. Just give me hope for a while that I’m loved… by someone.”
They stared in silence until Lucy whispered, “Do you love me? Or just want to be loved?”
“Of course I love you. How could anyone not? You’re everything a woman should be—gentle, good-hearted…” He squeezed her hand.
She stayed quiet until he heard a soft sob. Lucy was crying, silently, as if ashamed.
“I never dreamed I’d be proposed to on this park bench,” she finally smiled. “I’ve sat here so often, dreaming of love.”
They embraced. Lily soon joined them, clambering onto her father’s lap and beaming at Lucy as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
When James and Lucy married, they moved nearby to stay close to Lily, who now split her time between two homes. And when Lucy gave birth to a son, Lily, now a proud big sister, visited even more often—happy to help her dad and Lucy care for theAs the years passed, their little family grew even closer, proving that love sometimes arrives quietly, not on a white horse, but through the heart of a child who needed them both.
