Where’s the Love?
Emily was a lively, spirited, and pretty young woman. Boys buzzed around her like bees to honey, but she took her time picking and choosing. The older she got, the higher her standards climbed.
Raised by a single mother, Emily knew what it meant to count every penny. She never had the things her friends and classmates took for granted. So, she vowed to marry a man with money.
Then, one day, she met him—the man of her dreams: intelligent, handsome, successful, with a fat wallet, a flat in London, and a luxury car. What more could a girl want? A prince, plain and simple. Naturally, she fell head over heels. Emily was pretty, but she had little else to offer beyond her youth and looks—though she hadn’t quite figured that out yet.
How could she not fall for him? He doted on her, fulfilled her every whim, and left everyone green with envy.
One evening, Emily brought him home to meet her mum. Of course, she just knew her mother would approve. What mother wouldn’t want the best for her daughter? And this was as good as it got—a life of luxury! But the moment he left, her mum surprised her.
“He’s quite the catch, no doubt. But what does he see in you, love? You’re young and pretty, but there’s no shortage of those. Why you? Oh, darling, you’d be better off with a simpler man. You’re from different worlds—not to mention he’s twice your age. I’ll bet he’s been married, probably has kids. Don’t roll your eyes! It’s easy to brush off now, but mark my words, you won’t be happy with him.”
“We’ll see about that,” Emily said haughtily. “He divorced years ago. His son lives abroad.”
“You’ll be bending over backward to fit into his world. Remember Cinderella? The prince fell for her at the ball, when she was all polished up. That’s just a fairy tale. In real life, he’d have dropped her like a hot potato once he saw her scrubbing floors. What will you even talk about? You’ll chat about housework, he’ll mumble about stock markets. Different interests, different lives. One day, he’ll go back to his own kind, mark my words. Society will nudge him—he’ll start picking at everything you do. You’re just not a match,” her mother sighed. “He’ll play with you, then toss you aside.”
“Didn’t expect this from you, Mum. Thought you’d be happy for me. You’re never satisfied. So what? Should I never marry? Live in fear of being dumped?”
“I’m not against it, just—”
“Marry some ordinary bloke like me, then? And that guarantees we won’t divorce? Drop it, Mum. My mind’s made up. I’ll take happiness for as long as it lasts. At least I’ll know what it’s like not to worry about money.”
“Maybe you’re right,” her mother conceded. “God willing, the happiness lasts longer than expected.”
Emily preened under the envious glances women threw at her whenever Robert walked in. He’d pick her up from work in his Jaguar, and colleagues would crane their necks, watching them drive off. He chose her—that meant love. And love smoothed over every bump and mismatch.
Robert proposed with a dazzling diamond ring—no measly pebble, but a proper seven-carat sparkler. Her head spun with love and giddiness. No, it wouldn’t turn out like her mother feared. Emily was certain.
Then came wedding dress shopping. She’d dreamt of this—scrolled through websites, imagined the lace, the silk. But the price tags made her balk. They planned a trip to the bridal boutique, but at the last minute, Robert got tied up with work. Instead, he handed her his platinum card. “Buy whatever you like—no skimping.”
She didn’t bring her mum. Years of penny-pinching had made her mother allergic to luxury—she’d gasp and clutch her chest at the prices. And Emily had no close girlfriends to help. So, she went alone.
Rows of ivory gowns made her freeze—like stepping into a fairy tale. Her future felt like one, too. But the first price tag made her want to bolt. Three months’ salary. Suddenly, she felt like an impostor in that lavish shop.
The assistant glided over, eyebrows arched. “Can I help you?” Her smile was polite, but her eyes were sharp. Emily’s cheeks burned—this woman had already sized her up. Swallowing her nerves, she stammered out her dream dress. Every girl had envisioned it, sketched it in scribbles.
The assistant pulled out gowns that stole Emily’s breath. She resolved not to peek at tags. Robert said not to spare expense, didn’t he? He should be proud of her. But oh, the agony of choice. Each dress was perfect. She slipped into them, lost in the fantasy. Suddenly, the assistant’s smile was warmer, tinged with respect.
How lovely it was—no budgeting, no compromises. If only Robert were here, sipping coffee like in the films, watching her twirl in snowy satin, nodding or shaking his head while attendants scrambled to please.
She found the one. It hugged her like a second skin. To keep it secret—and spare her mum the shock—she left it at the boutique till the big day.
The wedding was a dream—a countryside manor, champagne towers, fireworks under the stars.
“Blimey, you’ve landed on your feet, Em!” coworkers whispered enviously. “What a husband!”
“What, handsome? Rich? Oh, he’s got plenty more going for him,” she’d laugh, floating on cloud nine.
The first crack appeared almost immediately. Before, they dined out constantly. Now, Robert barely left the house. He grumbled about fatigue, buried himself in spreadsheets, video-called business partners. Emily wandered their posh flat, bored.
“Fancy dinner out?” she’d ask hopefully.
“Exhausted. Your cooking’s brilliant—why waste money? Restaurants give me heartburn.”
She missed their dates—dressing up, feeling desired. Now? Home from work, apron on, straight to the hob.
When cooking bored her, she’d order takeaway. No heartburn for Robert—he gobbled it down. If he guessed, he never said—just thanked his lovely wife.
His attention revived when she fell pregnant. He even offered a housekeeper. She refused—she could manage. Glowing with pride, she cradled her bump. What could be happier than this?
Labour was smooth, the baby healthy. But motherhood changed her body—softened curves, stretched skin. Robert frowned whenever he saw her in an old dressing gown.
“Easier for breastfeeding,” she’d mumble.
His disapproving stares grew frequent. Then came late nights. “Meetings. Work crises.”
“Since the baby, you’ve lost interest,” she finally accused.
“I offered help,” he muttered.
“There’s someone else.”
His silence confirmed it. “You said it, not me. But yes. You’ve let yourself go. I give you plenty—salon appointments, gym memberships.”
“I thought the baby mattered more than my waistline. Breastfeeding, no diets—no time to even glance in a mirror!”
It worsened. Arguments piled up. Robert vanished more often; Emily spiralled in jealousy. One sleepless night, she decided to leave. She packed a bag, phoned her mum.
“Mum, can I stay awhile?”
“What’s wrong? Renovations?”
“Something like that.”
“Come over, love.”
Robert came home to emptiness. He called—first pleading, then threatening.
“Fine. The flat’s mine. You’ll get child support and nothing else.” Click.
Emily sobbed. Was this the marriage she’d dreamt of? Where had the love gone? Had it ever been real?
Her mum’s cramped flat was a comedown.
“Oh, love. Told you so. But we’ll manage.”
Then came the divorce papers—signed, sealed, no court summons. Just shoved through the letterbox.
Time passed. Her son started nursery. Emily returned to work, shed the baby weight—back to her old self. Men noticed again, swarming like wasps to jam. She ignored them. Her heart needed mending first.
Her mother nagged endlessly—lamenting her daughter’s “ruined life,” scolding her for depriving her grandson of a father.
Emily buried herself in work. No love life? Fine, she’d climb the career ladder. Stern, independent, she rose fast—soon buying her own flat.
“All well and good, but you’re alone. Tommy needs a dad. You’re obsessed with work—it’s not right!”
“There’s no one worth it, Mum. Men see me as an opportunity—a free ride, a ticket to comfort. I don’t want that. Where’s the love?”
A new hire joined her firm—Daniel, charming, educated abroad. He flirtedHe held out a hand and smiled, “Forget the past—let’s write a new story,” and for the first time in years, Emily felt the weight lift, daring to believe that maybe, just maybe, love had been waiting all along.
