Waiting for Something
Emily sat on the bench in her garden, nibbling a Bounty bar—her favourite chocolate since childhood. Their house was large, two-storeyed; her father, a builder, had quickly put up the cottage. Emily had an older sister, Alice, who was seventeen. The girls were close, and Alice, as the elder, kept an eye on her little sister, helping her and even stepping in when needed.
Emily finished the chocolate and sighed deeply. A strange, unknown sorrow had settled over the growing girl—she had fallen in love. And what of it? A girl about to turn fifteen, in love—it happened. Some fell in love at twelve or thirteen, not fifteen…
*”It would’ve been fine if I’d fallen for a classmate, or even for Oliver from the parallel class, the one all the girls fancy, the tall, handsome lad even the older girls sigh over. But no, I had to go and fall for Dad’s friend, William. Oh, what am I to do?”* Emily fretted, even envying her classmates who gushed over boys their own age, not grown men.
Just then, guests arrived: Uncle William with his wife, Sophie, and their daughter Lily, two years younger than Emily. Their families had been friends for generations, starting with their grandparents. Emily’s father and William were close, and their wives got on well too.
Emily knew Aunt Sophie was kind, decent, devoted to her husband—but that only made it worse. She didn’t understand what was happening to her until Alice grabbed her arm one day and dragged her far from the house to the gazebo. It was their mother’s birthday celebration.
*”Emily, what’s going on with you?”* Alice asked, tense.
*”Nothing, why?”* Emily blinked innocently.
*”Oh, come off it. You’ve fallen for William, haven’t you?”* Alice stared, horrified, waiting for an answer.
*”So what if I have? Jealous?”* Emily shot back before bursting into tears.
She’d loved Uncle William for three months, ever since they’d celebrated his birthday at their countryside house. He’d been so cheerful, so happy. She’d even caught herself admiring him as he danced with her mother. But she wished he’d dance like that with *her*, laugh and joke with *her*. The whole thing felt wrong, this odd state she couldn’t shake.
Now clever Alice had seen right through her. Emily was mortified—she’d thought no one suspected a thing. At first, Alice was irritated, but then she suddenly hugged her little sister and said gently, *”Oh, you silly thing. It’s alright. It’ll pass.”*
Emily stopped sulking at once, letting Alice wipe her tears. But then, of course, their mother hurried over, worried. *”Emily, what’s wrong?”*
*”Nothing, Mum. She got scared by a wasp—nearly stung her face,”* Alice lied smoothly.
*”Ah, right. Be careful—there are loads this year,”* her mother said before walking off.
Time passed, but Emily’s love for William didn’t fade. She did well in school, got on with her classmates. Boys swarmed her—she was pretty—but she never returned their affections. She went to school dances, let them give her Valentines. Later, in sixth form, she even went on dates. But always, in her heart, Uncle William remained her knight.
By her final year, she’d grown up—or so she thought. *”I need to get over this stupid crush. First love’s always doomed, isn’t it?”* But it clung to her. *”It’s like I’m living two lives—one with my parents, friends, and school, the other with Uncle William. Alice said it would pass. Why hasn’t it?”*
Then came university choices. Psychology crossed her mind, but she remembered her childhood dream—to be a doctor. That won. She aced her A-levels and breezed into medical school.
One day, Lily, William’s daughter—whom Emily had never quite warmed to—called. *”Hi, Emily. Mum’s asked me to invite you all to the countryside house on Saturday. Her birthday.”*
*”Thanks, Lily. I’ll be there,”* Emily replied automatically.
Aunt Sophie was the perfect hostess—her salads and dishes were divine. Everyone loved visiting. And William? His barbecues were legendary—never burnt.
There were about ten guests that day, not counting the hosts. After the feast, Emily stepped outside. It was autumn, and the crisp air was a relief after the stuffy dining room. She lingered by a little table and bench, admiring the neat garden, the flowers still clinging to life.
*”Your favourite,”* a voice said behind her, making her jump.
William held a plate of raspberry cheesecake and a cup of tea.
*”Oh, thanks—just put it down, or I’ll drop it,”* she stammered, blushing. *”How’d you know I love raspberry?”*
*”Noticed it somewhere, I suppose,”* he smiled. *”I notice a lot of things.”* Then, to spare her further embarrassment, he went back inside.
*”What else has he noticed?”* Emily wondered. *”Does he suspect? And why won’t this feeling go away?”* She sat, eating the cheesecake without tasting it.
Lily joined her. *”Yummy, right? Mum’s the best. She’s the one who sent Dad out—she knows you love this stuff.”*
*”Yeah, delicious,”* Emily said vaguely. *”It was stuffy inside. Dad wanted the table on the veranda, but Mum’s always cold.”*
They chattered away. Alice hadn’t come—married now, living in another city. Emily had never thought much about marriage, though she’d dated. Boys courted her, took her out, gave gifts—some even proposed. Once, she got engaged, nearly signed the papers. Then she backed out, saying it was too soon. Truth was, she didn’t *want* it.
She had friends, interests, holidays. But none of it stirred her. She wondered if she was depressed, digging through her feelings, but found nothing.
In her final year of med school, she learned Aunt Sophie was seriously ill. *”Darling, it’s bad,”* her mother said. *”Late stage. William’s beside himself. Poor Lily’s in pieces.”*
Emily felt a pang of guilt—as if her foolish love had cursed Sophie. But she dismissed it. *”What nonsense. Fate’s just cruel.”*
She pitied them all. As a medic, she knew what was coming. Once, Lily confided, *”Mum’s refusing treatment, Emily. Says there’s no point. Dad’s called in a therapist, but she won’t even cry. She’s just… waiting.”*
Emily understood. She’d graduated top of her class, worked at a clinic now. There was no fighting this disease. Sophie accepted it, only regretting her daughter’s grief—Lily was studying economics, and now this.
A year later, Sophie was gone. At the funeral, Emily saw William, aged overnight, and Lily, red-eyed. Life was unfair—death took the best.
A week later, Emily still felt off. *”Headaches, exhaustion, a thousand thoughts. I’m diagnosing patients on autopilot—that’s dangerous. I need sleep.”* So, on her day off, she slept—late into the afternoon.
When she woke, it was gone. All of it. Even the thought of William. Just… lightness. Emptiness. No worries. She almost didn’t believe it. Only one thing lingered—a sense of waiting. For what, she couldn’t say.
Life moved on. Patients came and went. Her social circle shifted. Colleagues and friends congratulated her—three years flew by. Now a cardiologist, she understood heartbreak better than most.
Then, one evening, her last appointment was a man named Robert. It was her birthday—28 today. *”Mum and Dad want grandkids. Where from?”* She was tired, ready to go home.
A knock—polite. At the door stood William, holding flowers.
*”Robert?”* she asked, scanning her list.
*”William,”* he corrected, smiling. *”Hello, Emily. And please—no ‘uncle’.”*
She stood. He stepped closer, glanced meaningfully at the nurse, who slipped out. Emily stepped back, but he took her hand, brought it to his lips.
*”We need to talk. And—happy birthday.”*
In the café, he did most of the talking. Then, gazing out at the darkening sky, he said, *”I’d like to ask your parents for your hand.”*
Emily hesitated. *”I need time.”*
*”Of course. But not too long. We’ve wasted enough already.”*
At home, she called Alice. *”Al, what do I do?”*
*”Say yes! I’ve always seen how he looks at you—not like he looks at me.”*
