Only on the Third Try
How much bitterness must one endure, how many loved ones must be lost, before true happiness is found?
This is a question Emma often ponders. At forty-eight, she still clings to hope, waiting for something good. Life hasn’t been kind, yet she’s never lost heart. But now, disaster strikes. She stands blinking back tears, watching flames devour their home. Sparks shoot into the night sky, the fire illuminating the gathered onlookers. The fire engine arrives, sirens wailing.
### Losing Everything
The firefighters unfurl their hoses, and a jet of water crashes into the blaze. Smoke billows as Emma covers her nose with a handkerchief, staring in horror at the ruins of her life. Everything is gone—furniture, clothes, the kitchen, all of it. Nothing was saved. The house she’d lived in for over twenty-five years is now ash.
“Emma, come with me. Your husband, James, is already in my yard with mine,” urges Margaret, her neighbor of many years, tugging her sleeve.
“He just sits there, doesn’t care it’s his fault we’ve lost everything. I barely woke him, or he’d have burned too,” Emma whispers, tears streaming. “Oh, Margie, I never realized how attached I was… all the memories, the photos… gone.”
“Don’t fret, love. You’re not even fifty yet. There’s time to rebuild,” Margaret reassures her.
They step into Margaret’s garden, where James sits with her husband, Henry. James, shaken from last night’s drinking, looks dazed.
“Emma, what happened? Why’d the house go up?” he slurs.
“Why? Because you fell asleep with that blasted cigarette. It rolled under the bed. By the time I shook you awake, the flames were everywhere,” she sobs. “How many times did I warn you? Now we’ve got nothing!”
James slumps, tears streaking his face. His bleary eyes fix on the charred remains of the home he once built with his own hands.
“Emma, forgive me, for God’s sake. I’ll never drink again, I swear it. Not another drop,” he mutters, crossing himself. “We’ll stay at my parents’ old place. It’s a wreck, but we’ll fix it. I promise.”
His parents, heavy drinkers themselves, passed years ago, leaving the house neglected. Emma and James sift through the wreckage but find nothing salvageable. True to his word, James quits drinking—perhaps the shock sobered him.
### Only Memories Remain
Emma pauses by the ruins of her home on her way back from the shops, sinking onto the surviving bench by the gate. Memories flood her—twenty-five years with James in that house. She recalls their joy when they first moved in, picking out wallpaper, paint, new furniture. Every Christmas, James brought in a towering tree, and they’d decorate it, laughing with their daughters. How they’d raced downstairs on New Year’s Day to see what Father Christmas had left.
“So many secrets, so much laughter these walls held,” Emma thinks. “And my own heartaches too.” Her daughters had taken their first steps here, raced off to school, then flown the nest.
### A Failed First Marriage
Emma had two daughters, barely a year apart, from her first marriage. She’d wed young, to Johnny, before she knew better. They were ill-suited, clashing over everything, even chores. He was restless, immature, always out drinking while she stayed home, pregnant, then raising their girls alone.
“Should’ve listened to Mum,” she murmurs aloud, lost in thought. Johnny owned a motorbike. One night, returning from her parents’ village, they crashed. He died instantly; she spent months in hospital. “Must’ve had a guardian angel,” she often says.
It was the nineties when Emma lost her job and moved back to her mother’s village. Nearby lived James, still with his alcoholic parents, occasionally drinking himself.
### A Second Chance
One day, spotting Emma with her girls, James fell for her—her gentle smile, her quiet strength. He approached, shyly asking her to walk with him.
“Emma, let’s talk. There’s so much I want to say,” he said once, meeting her after work.
They walked, chatted, and soon he proposed: “Marry me. I’ll love your girls as mine. I’m building us a home.” She said yes—not out of love, but for security, for her daughters.
James was hardworking, devoted. But his parents’ influence dragged him down, and drink became his escape.
“Why does luck always flee me?” Emma wonders, sitting on the bench. At least her girls grew up kind, happy.
### Another Blow
After the fire, James stayed sober, repairing his parents’ derelict house. Life almost seemed brighter—until he collapsed, taken by a stroke. Soon, Emma buried him.
Days blurred into monotony—work, home, loneliness. Only visits from her girls and grandchildren brought joy.
### A New Meeting
One December, Emma heads to town for New Year’s shopping. Laden with bags, she passes a taxi and impulsively hails it. The driver, Matthew, is friendly, charming. Conversation flows easily, and as he drops her off, he hands her his card.
“Call if you ever need a ride,” he smiles.
She tucks it away, forgetting until New Year’s Eve, when her son-in-law’s car won’t start.
“Maybe call a taxi?” he suggests.
Emma remembers Matthew. He answers at once, drives them all home, even inviting her along.
“You’re a dear,” her daughter whispers. “He’s lovely—give him a chance.”
Matthew watches their warm goodbyes with envy. Eight years ago, he lost his wife and daughter in a coach crash. Since then, no one’s stirred his heart—until now. Emma reminds him of his late wife—her warm eyes, her kindness.
### Two Kindred Spirits
She invites him in for leftover pie. Over tea, he shares his grief; she tells of her fire, her losses.
That night, Emma lies awake, warmth spreading in her chest. Had fate brought them together?
Days later, Matthew calls: “Emma, there’s a new film. Fancy it?”
They spend the day laughing, chatting, sharing ice cream. He buys her a little trinket, walks her home, discussing the movie.
“Come meet my mother,” he says.
Nervous, Emma agrees. His mother, Grace, is delighted. “She’s wonderful,” Grace tells Matthew later.
“I know,” he grins. “You’ll have a daughter-in-law soon.”
On Emma’s birthday in March, surrounded by family, Matthew presents a ring.
Tears of joy glisten as she accepts. At last, on the third try, happiness has found her.
