Thats not proper, Emma. Youre thirty and living like an old lady, she chided, settling beside her daughter.
Emma trudged home from the office, exhausted as usual. By evening the kitchen already smelled of potatoes and onions; her mother, Dorothy Whitfield, was frying something in an ancient skillet, muttering under her breath, yet she always placed a plate for Emma with a gentle smile.
Emma, have a bite; itll cool down, love.
Mum, later, okay? I need to change out of work clothes first.
Emma peeled off her coat, slipped off her boots and headed to the bedroom. Little Tommy was on the floor, stacking blocks into a tower and humming to himself. When he saw his mum, he shouted with delight:
Mum, look at my fortress!
Emma smiled and planted a kiss on his crown.
Wow, a proper castle. Think Ill be the princess?
No, he replied seriously youll be the commander.
She laughed, and for a heartbeat her heart felt a little warmer. Tiny moments like that kept the emptiness that had been nesting in her chest for almost six years at bay.
After Igor left, Emma decided she would never allow herself a weakness again. Work, home, and Tommy became the whole of her world. Occasionally, when Tommy fell asleep, shed sit by the window, watching the occasional streetlights flicker, and catch herself thinking life was slipping past.
Dorothy had watched all this, and sometimes the strain of Emmas state made her feel almost unbearable.
Thats not right, Emma. Youre thirty and acting like a pensioner, shed say, sitting down beside her.
Mum, Im fine. Im not complaining.
Fine Dorothy would mock. From work to home, from home to work. And then what?
Then Tommy grows up, finishes school
And moves on, Dorothy would add calmly. And wholl you be left with? Im not forever.
Emma sighed, saying nothing. Dorothy wasnt speaking out of malice; she simply understood how quickly life could sprint by.
One late evening they were having tea when Dorothy changed the subject again:
I spotted a flyer at Mrs. Patels door about a local singles club. Folks meet, sip coffee, watch a film together. You should give it a whirl.
Mum, are you serious?
Whats wrong with that? Normal women sometimes want a bit of male attention.
I dont want to, Emma cut in.
Dont want or scared?
Emma quietly placed her cup in the sink. Talking about it always made her throat tighten.
Mum, lets drop it. Ive been burned before and Im not keen on a repeat.
You never even tried a second time to see if your other half was out there, Dorothy sighed.
Dorothy fell silent, seeing Emma wasnt ready to listen. Inside, though, Emmas old self the bright, smiling, loving woman was still there, merely shadowed by a schedule shed forced upon herself.
The weekend they took Tommy outside; snow crackled underfoot, children hurled themselves down hills. Dorothy waved at a neighbour who was inviting everyone to a childrens fête at the local community centre.
Go on, Emma, dont just sit at home, she urged. Let Tommy have some fun and you get a breather.
Emma hesitated but eventually agreed.
The hall was bustling. Kids darted about, adults gathered in clusters. Tommy bolted straight for the table piled with toys. Emma lingered at the periphery, watching him, when a tall man in a khaki jacket appeared beside her.
Excuse me, could you tell me where the changing room for the little ones is? he asked politely.
Over there, two halls down, to the right, she replied.
Thanks. My daughter keeps getting lost in these corridors.
He smiled warmly.
Youre local, arent you?
Yes, Emma said shyly. I live nearby.
Lucky, I keep worrying Ill lose my way.
He extended his hand.
James.
Emma.
They exchanged a few words, then he went off to his own daughter, only to return shortly and help carry a box of gifts to a car.
It must be hard handling a child on your own, huh? he asked gently.
I manage, Emma answered shortly.
He didnt press further, just wished her luck with a smile before walking away.
When Emma got back, Dorothy was waiting.
So, how was the party?
Fine.
And the man? He seemed rather nice.
How would you know?
Your eyes say it. You actually smiled for the first time in ages.
Emma brushed it off, but something in her stirred. She really did feel a faint aftertaste of something warm, like a tiny spark breaking through a thick wall of loneliness.
That night, after Tommy was asleep, she whispered to herself, James as if tasting the name.
A week later Emma slipped back into her routine: work, home, caring for Tommy. James faded like a passerby, appearing only in fleeting recollections when snow fell outside.
But life, as ever, pulled her back into the grind. At the office, a crisis broke out; the accounting department got a new boss who wanted to prove herself, so Emma was glued to her desk. Shed get home late, only to find Tommy with his homework and Dorothys perpetual muttering:
Emma, youre running yourself ragged. Your face looks like a pandas.
Mum, its fine, just the end of the month,
One evening, as she was riding the bus home, her phone buzzed. An unknown number.
Hello?
Emma? Its James. We met at the party. Remember?
She paused, recognizing his voice.
Yes hello.
I saw you step off the bus near the Rainbow Shop. I tried to catch up but you were off in a hurry, so I thought Id give you a ring.
Emma wasnt sure what to say. It felt awkward yet oddly pleasant.
No, I dont mind, she finally said.
Great. Fancy meeting up? Ill be passing through your area tomorrow.
The next day they met at a coffee shop. James arrived in a firebrigade jacket, a folder tucked under his arm, clearly in a hurry but still managed to buy two coffees.
Have a look, thisll warm you up, he said, handing her a cup.
They sat on a bench in the park. Conversation flowed as if theyd known each other for years. James spoke about his divorce and his eightyearold daughter, Lucy.
You raise a kid solo too? Emma asked, surprised.
Yep. It was tough at first, then I realised it wasnt the end of the world, just a new reason to keep going.
His tone was plain, without selfpity. Emma felt a calm settle around her when she was with him, no judgment, just understanding.
Back home, Dorothy was already in the kitchen, as if waiting.
So? she asked as soon as Emma hung up her coat.
Mum
Dont tell me it was him from the club.
Which club? Emma raised an eyebrow.
Oh, stop pretending youre a saint. I saw you talking to him at the bus stop.
Emma sighed but didnt argue.
Hes just a nice bloke, a friend.
Dorothy smirked. Friends, huh? Youll want to know a person before dating them.
Days passed. James would call just to check on Emma and Tommy. Occasionally hed pop round to help fix a tap or move a shelf. Dorothy watched, pretending not to notice, though shed mutter to herself later, Thats what I call a good sort.
One evening James asked Emma and Tommy to join him for iceskating.
My daughter Lucy loves the rink, and your Tommy looks like hed enjoy it too.
Emma hesitated, then agreed.
The night was cold, music drifting over the ice, children laughing. James held Lucys hand, coaxing Tommy to stay upright. Then he offered Emma his hand.
Come on, dont be shy.
I havent skated in ages
Perfect, well start from scratch.
She took his hand, and a pleasant tingle ran through her. It was a simple touch, but warm enough to bring tears to her eyes.
When they left, James said quietly,
Emma, Im not in a rush, but I enjoy being with you and Tommy. I havent felt useful in a long time.
Emma could only nod, meeting his honest eyes.
Later that night, Dorothy slipped into the living room where Emma was gazing out the window.
Feeling a bit thawed, love? she asked softly.
Mum I dont know. I just want to believe somethings not lost.
Dorothy settled beside her, arms around Emma.
Keep believing, Emma. If you can smile for no reason, lifes still got a future for you.
Spring arrived early, mud splattered the streets, sparrows sang, and for the first time in ages the house felt light. James began turning up more often, bringing pastries for Tommy, apples from Lucy, fixing the broken iron, even hauling the boy to school. Dorothy, observing this, softened, no longer poking at Emma, but smiling as if she too sensed happiness returning.
Mum, I never intended any grand plan, Emma said, clearing the table.
And you dont need one. Things come and go. Just dont scare them away, Dorothy replied, pouring tea. Hes a decent sort, not the sort to sit on his hands.
Emma just smiled. She liked that James never pried or demanded, just was there. Sometimes she caught herself waiting for his call, heart beating a little faster.
One Saturday James suggested a countryside outing.
Lucys coming too. Well throw sausages on the grill, get fresh air. Kids need a break from screens, right? he laughed.
The day was perfect: sunshine, laughter, the scent of smoke and new grass. Tommy and Lucy chased a ball, Dorothy, content, sat in the car, while Emma and James stood by the fire. He turned to her quietly:
I think Im starting to like you all.
Me too? she whispered, surprised by the surge of feeling.
But peace was shortlived. A week later, at the doorstep, Tommy shouted,
Mum, theres a man! He says hes Dad!
In the hallway stood Mark, Emmas exhusband, the one whod walked out while she was pregnant.
Hey, Emma, he said, eyes downcast. We need to talk.
Emma froze. Time seemed to rewind a decade, the same smell of aftershave, the same hollow stare.
What do you want?
I Ive realized I was a fool. Ive been married twice now, both fell apart. I just want to see my son.
Dorothy burst from the kitchen, hands flailing:
Oh, brilliant! Just what we needed! And where were you when our little girl was crying at night?
Mark looked like a beaten man, but he didnt leave.
Ill fix things, I swear.
Emma, weary, said,
Get out. Dont turn this into a performance for the boy.
Mark slunk away, defeated.
That night Emma could barely sleep. Old grudges, betrayals, the smell of cheap tobacco from his old coat, and his last line You made it all up, I didnt cheat! swirled in her mind. Then a text pinged from James: Hows your day? Thought Id drop by but figured youre resting.
She stared at the screen, typed, All good, were resting.
James didnt push, but the next morning he appeared with a building set for Tommy, a cake for Dorothy, and a bouquet of three roses for Emma.
You look sad. Something up?
She forced a smile.
Just the past popping up.
Ex? he guessed.
He came. Said hes changed.
James fell silent, eyes drifting to the window.
If you decide to go back, Ill understand. Just dont fool yourself; sometimes the past knocks because its cold, not because it misses you.
His words cut deep. Emma wanted to reply but couldt.
Later that evening Mark turned up again, bearing a toy for Tommy, trying to explain. Emma held back irritation until Tommy retreated to his room.
Why are you here?
I want my family back.
Which family, Mark? Its long gone.
He stepped closer.
Ive changed, I swear.
Too late.
She fled to the window. Outside, dusk settled, streetlights glimmered, and she spotted a familiar silhouette James, leaning against the gate, a cigarette dangling, as if keeping watch. Her heart gave a small jump.
Mark, leave, she whispered. Dont destroy whats finally steady.
He lingered a moment, then without a word slipped away. A knock sounded at the door.
Can I come in? James asked gently. I saw him leave. Everything alright?
Yes, its fine, Emma answered.
He placed a hand on her shoulder.
No rush. Just know youre not alone; youve got a shoulder whenever you need it.
She looked at him and allowed herself to believe: second chances do exist.
The summer was sweltering, the air heavy with dust, yet the house was bright, not from sunlight but from a calm that had settled in. Since Mark finally vanished, everything fell back into place. Tommy smiled more, Dorothy still muttered now and then but seemed less worried, and Emma lived without fearing the world would collapse tomorrow.
James became a quiet part of their lives, never trying to replace Mark, never demanding, simply showing up with potatoes from his garden, fixing the broken iron, driving the boy to school.
Mum, Uncle Luke wants to take me fishing today! Tommy announced, dropping his backpack. With Lucy too! Can I?
Yes, Emma replied, smiling. Just dont forget your hat.
Sometimes Emma felt as if she were dreaming, fearing shed wake up back in that cold marriage where every word from her husband was a dagger, and a constant fatigue haunted her. But then shed see James, in a dustcovered shirt, mending Tommys bike, or Dorothy offering him tea, and shed realize this was real life gentle and quiet.
One evening they all gathered on the balcony: Dorothy knitting, the kids playing inside, James repairing an old wall clock that had long stopped ticking.
How do you manage it all? Emma asked.
I just dont rush, he chuckled. After the army I learned haste is the enemy of happiness.
She looked at him thoughtfully.
Luke arent you scared to let someone new in?
I was, honestly. But being alone is scarier. And you?
Emma answered after a pause:
Im not afraid of repeats; Im afraid I wont believe it if its different.
He set the clock down and gently brushed her hand.
Then we try, step by step, and see where it leads.
She smiled, and at that moment a weight that had rested on her chest for years seemed to lift.
A few weeks later James suggested a trip to his mums cottage in the countryside.
The house is big, the gardens in bloom, the kids can run about. Well just relax.
The drive was long but easy. Lucy and Tommy giggled in the back seat, Dorothy dozed, and Emma watched the rolling fields, marveling at how a random meeting could turn her life upside down in the best possible way.
That night, around a campfire, James said,
I came here thinking Id just help. Then I realised I need you. Not because Im lonely, but because youre strong and being with you feels right.
Emma lingered, then whispered,
I never thought Id hear words like that. Not about love or passion, but about peace. Because thats where true happiness lives.
He hugged her, and they sat listening to the crackle of the fire while the children laughed by the water.
Autumn saw them moving into a modest cottage on the outskirts. Dorothy insisted,
Go on, live there while Im still around. Get some fresh air. Im happy for you.
The move was uneventful. James helped lug boxes, Tommy adopted a stray kitten named Whiskers that evening, and Lucy gathered a bunch of wildflowers for the table.
Later, on a quiet night, Emma stepped onto the porch. The moon hung low, the scent of grass in the air. James joined her, placing his hands on her shoulders.
Whats on your mind?
That maybe, for once, everythings where it should be she admitted. No overexertion, no fear. Just life.
So youreShe smiled, feeling at last that home was not just a place, but the gentle, steady heartbeat of a life finally worth living.
