Everything That’s Yours Will Stay Yours
In a small town nestled between gloomy hills and grey fields, where autumn carried the scent of damp earth and longing, life moved slowly, like a lazy river. At the edge of town, half-hidden beneath the shade of old linden trees, stood a house where Emily lived. Her life seemed a fairy tale—wealthy parents, a grand manor, and Aunt Margaret, who had become a second mother to her. But beneath this idyll lurked shadows, ready to tear everything apart.
“Pushing food around for two weeks now—fancy someone, do you, Emily?” asked Margaret, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Suppose there is a boy,” Emily admitted, blushing. “He’s in another faculty—good-looking, but acts like he doesn’t see me. No idea how to approach him.”
“Don’t you dare chase him!” Margaret frowned. “A girl shouldn’t run after a lad. In my day—”
“Oh, Aunt Maggie, not the ‘back in my day’ again!” Emily laughed, finishing her breakfast. “Alright, I’m off—can’t be late today. Lecturer’s strict; he’ll toss me out.”
“Go on, then,” Margaret crossed her, shutting the door behind her with a worried sigh.
Emily grew up in comfort, never knowing want. With parents consumed by their careers, Margaret had raised her—a stern but kind woman who taught her life’s lessons as if sensing fate wouldn’t always be gentle.
Margaret had her own sorrow. In her youth, she’d married a woodsman named Gregory. Their love was brief—he vanished a year later. Some said he drowned in the marshes. Searches turned up nothing. Left alone, Margaret nearly became a nun, but thought better of it: “What sort of nun would I be? Still young, and my tongue’s too sharp.” She stayed in the village until her sister Lydia called her to the city.
“Come live with us, Maggie,” Lydia had urged. “We’re always working, and Emily needs someone.”
“Gladly, Liddy!” Margaret had replied. “Grieving Gregory’s done—I’d waste away here otherwise. No more marriage for me. I’ll keep your house spotless.”
So Margaret joined their family, calling herself a housekeeper. She cooked with care, tended the garden, and sewed Emily’s dresses. The girl was like a daughter to her, but Margaret warned, “Learn to work, Emily. Today’s comforts aren’t guaranteed. Cooking’s a woman’s secret weapon—do it with love, and men will notice.”
“Got any secrets, then?” Emily once teased.
“Course! Every good cook has hers,” Margaret grinned.
Emily fell for Daniel, a tall lad from another faculty. She thought he ignored her, but she was wrong. Everyone knew Emily came from money. Daniel, raised by a single mother, was charming but rough. Margaret’s suspicions flared when Emily returned home glowing.
“Aunt Maggie, he noticed me!” she gushed. “We walked after lectures—he bought me ice cream.”
“Crafty, knowing girls love sweets,” Margaret muttered. “Bring him round. I’ll judge his measure.”
A month later, Daniel visited. Margaret watched him closely over dinner. When he left, Emily bounced excitedly, “Well? Isn’t he lovely?”
“Clever looks,” Margaret said flatly. “But not for you. Eyes like a scavenger’s—took in everything. There’s envy there, Emily. He’s no match.”
“Oh, Aunt Maggie, you’re imagining things!” Emily huffed. “Who I choose is my business!”
Margaret sighed, knowing some lessons had to be learned firsthand.
Her fears proved right. Four months later, Emily’s gold ring vanished. Daniel had been the only outsider in the house. She didn’t tell her parents but confessed to Margaret.
“I told you—he took it,” Margaret said. “Report it.”
“Don’t,” Emily pleaded. “No need to upset them. It’s between us. I’m done with Daniel.”
She confronted him: “I know you took it. No one else could have.” He flushed, snarling, “Lost your mind? What do I want with your ring?” They split bitterly. Margaret comforted Emily, relieved she’d escaped worse.
In her final university year, Emily met Oliver at her friend Sophie’s birthday. They hit it off instantly, dating soon after. Sophie advised, “Don’t bring him home yet. See if he loves you or your money. Meet at mine.” Emily agreed. Oliver, already working, wined and dined her—flowers, theatre, endless charm. Even Margaret asked to meet him.
Oliver arrived bearing bouquets for Emily and her mother. Her parents approved, but Margaret saw through him: “Shifty. Nervous energy. That one’s trouble.”
“Aunt Maggie, really!” Emily protested. “We never argue—he’s sweet!”
Then fate struck. Emily’s parents died in a car crash returning from a trip. Grief-stricken, Margaret barely held herself together. Emily’s world shattered. The funeral was handled by her father’s firm. After the wake, the two sat silent, swallowing their sorrow.
“Emily, I’ll always be here,” Margaret whispered. “What’s yours stays yours.”
“It’s your home too, Aunt Maggie,” Emily murmured.
Later, at a café, Emily overheard Oliver on the phone: “You should see that house! Just her and that old aunt now. I’d better marry quick—claim it all.” Stung, she fled. He chased but missed her bus. Home again, she sobbed as Margaret soothed, “The right man will love you for you.”
Emily graduated and joined her father’s friend Thomas Whitmore’s firm. He’d sworn at the grave to watch over her. There, she met Nathan—quiet, bright, reliable. Thomas praised him: “Sharp, creative, never misses deadlines. Promoting him soon.”
Nathan hesitated for months before asking her out. “If I took you to dinner… what would you say?” he stammered, reddening.
“I’d say yes,” Emily smiled, touched by his nerves.
They dated. Nathan knew only of her loss, assuming she lived modestly with her aunt. “Meet my mum—she’d love you,” he offered. His mother, Helen, welcomed her warmly: “No fuss here, love.”
When Emily finally invited Nathan home, he froze at the manor but said nothing. Over dinner, he charmed Margaret, treating her like family. “That’s your man,” Margaret nodded. “Steady, kind—no greed in him.”
They married. Thomas arranged the wedding, honoring his old friend’s memory. Now, with twin boys and Nathan as Thomas’s heir, Emily knows—what’s hers is love, family, and the home where happiness lives.
**Everything That’s Yours Will Stay Yours**
