—I’ve had enough!—exclaimed Emily, tossing her bag onto the sofa. —I need the seaside! Just lying under the sun all day, lazy as a seal, then dancing all night. Music, cocktails, and not a single thought about work!
Daniel smirked. He was used to her dramatic outbursts. Emily wasn’t an easy girl—sharp-witted, sarcastic, sometimes prickly—but always genuine. She never pretended or put on airs. With her, things were simple, fun, and effortless. Most importantly, he never had to wear a mask around her.
They’d met a few months ago, and ever since, Daniel felt like he could finally breathe. No awkward silences, no forced conversations—just warmth and the quiet certainty that he was right where he belonged.
—What happened at work?—he asked softly, stepping closer.
—Everyone’s just unbearable!—“Emily do this, Emily do that”—as if no one else exists! Today, I nearly told off my manager. If I hadn’t held back, I’d be jobless by now…—
—Sounds like you *definitely* need a break,—Daniel chuckled. —We could dart off somewhere, even if it’s not the seaside.
—And go *where*? Best-case scenario, I get a single day off. What’s the point of a one-day holiday?
—How about the countryside? My gran’s place. The air there—just a walk will knock you out. And the pies! Fresh from the oven…
—The countryside?—Emily widened her eyes. —You’re serious? I’ve never even *been* to the countryside.
—Never?
—Never. My whole family’s city folk. I’ve never seen a cow outside a milk carton.
—Then you *have* to go! You’ve no idea how brilliant it is. The river, the wood stove, stars at night, a bonfire…
—Oh, Daniel, save the enthusiasm. Honestly, I’m not sure I’m ready to charm any grannies.
—Shame. My gran’s an absolute gem. Stuff you full of pies, serve you mint tea—and you’ll adore her.
—Well, if pies are the bargaining chip…—Emily grinned. —Fine. But on one condition: if I hate it, you’re buying me a whole new wardrobe. Because I won’t fit into mine after your gran’s cooking.
He laughed, while she still couldn’t decide whether to join in or start panicking.
The journey wasn’t smooth. The last stretch had their car rattling down a bumpy lane. Daniel didn’t flinch, but Emily nervously peered out the window, half-expecting collapsing barns, dung heaps, and geese launching an ambush.
Instead, the village was tidy and welcoming—proper streets, shops, even paved roads. No cows in sight, just barefoot kids, women with neat updos, and men chatting idly by their gates.
Gran greeted them like she’d been waiting years. She hugged Emily as if she were family, bustling about before seating them at a table groaning with food: roast beef, yorkshire puddings, fresh bread, pies, and elderflower cordial.
Emily was stunned. Where was the stern, silent granny she’d feared? Where was the grim rural life she’d imagined?
Daniel beamed. He’d known it would be like this.
After lunch, he dragged her to the riverbank—and it was magic. Crystal-clear water, children splashing, families picnicking on blankets. No shouting, no rushing. Just laughter, wind, and the scent of woodsmoke.
That night, Emily fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. Dawn woke her with golden light—Gran’s curtains were thin, almost sheer. She pulled on a jumper and stepped outside—then froze.
The sky blushed pink, the sun just peeking over the hills. Distant cows lowed, birds sang, and the air smelled of dew, grass, and wild thyme. The whole world seemed to breathe peace. Emily slipped off her slippers and stood barefoot in the damp grass. Silent. Her soul felt lighter.
—Lost you,—came Daniel’s voice behind her.
—I woke up… came outside. It’s so quiet here. So easy. I’ve never felt this calm before.
—Like it?
—Love it. Can we come back?
—Absolutely. Again and again.
She hugged him tight, her heart full. The seaside lost its appeal. She’d found her peace right here—where the air tasted new, and every breath felt like a fresh start.
*Sometimes, the escape you crave isn’t far away at all—it’s in the places, and the people, that help you remember how to breathe.*
