Emma had been a lover for far too long. Marriage never seemed to work out for her, and she spent her twenties drifting from one fling to another. By the time she turned thirty she decided it was time to find a proper man. She didnt know at first that James was already married, but the fact soon slipped out of his mouth the moment he realised she had become attached to him.
Emma never blamed James. She only scolded herself for the affair and for the weakness she felt toward him. She felt inadequate for not having secured a husband in time, while the years kept slipping by. By all accounts she wasnt unattractive not a knockout, but pleasantlooking, a little curvy, which only added to her charm.
Their relationship led nowhere. Emma didnt want to remain a kept woman, yet she couldnt bring herself to dump James; the thought of being alone terrified her.
One afternoon her cousin Tom stopped by. He was passing through Manchester on a work trip and thought hed spend a few hours with his sister, as they hadnt seen each other in ages. They ate lunch in the kitchen, chatted about childhood memories and the present, and Emma poured out her love life, shedding a few tears.
Just then the neighbour next door knocked, asking Emma to swing by and judge her recent purchases. Emma stepped out for about twenty minutes. While she was away a knock sounded at the front door. Tom answered, assuming Emma had returned, but the door was left unlocked. Standing on the doorstep was James, looking flustered, his shirt halfopen and trackpants gritty, chewing on a ham sandwich.
Is Emma home? James blurted, unable to control himself.
Shes in the bathroom, Tom guessed instantly.
Excuse me, who are you to her? James stammered.
Im her husband civil partner for now. And whats it to you? Tom pressed, grabbing James by the shirt. Arent you the married bloke Emmas been bragging about? Listen here, if I see you here again, Ill see you down the stairs, got it?
James wriggled free and bolted downstairs.
Emma soon returned, and Tom filled her in on the unexpected visitor.
What have you done? Who sent you? she cried. Hell never come back.
She sank onto the sofa, covering her face. Tom softened, He wont be coming back, and thats a good thing. Stop moping. I know a fine widower in the village up north. His late wifes family wont let any women get near him, and hes turning everyone away. Hes looking for a companion. After my next work trip Ill swing by your place again be ready. Well go together, Ill introduce you.
Are you serious? Emma balked. I cant. I dont know this man, and it feels improper.
Its better to meet a widower than to keep chasing a lover. No ones pushing you into his bed. Come on, think of it as a birthday present for my wife, Lily.
A few days later Emma and Tom were in the Yorkshire village. Toms wife, Lily, had set a table in the garden beside the old bathhouse. Neighbours, friends, and Toms widowed friend, Alan, gathered for a family celebration. The locals already knew Emma; shed never met Alan before.
After the cosy chat, Emma headed back to the city, noting how quiet and modest Alan seemed. He must be missing his wife, she mused. Poor chap, not many heartfelt men left.
A week later, on a Saturday, the doorbell rang. Emma wasnt expecting anyone. She opened the door to find Alan standing there with a bag in his hands.
May I come in, Emma? I was just passing by the market and thought Id stop. Since weve met, Id like to visit, he said, a little embarrassed.
She invited him in. Though surprised, she offered him tea, sensing his visit wasnt random.
Did you get everything you needed? Emma asked.
Yes, all in the car. And this is for you, Alan said, pulling out a small bunch of tulips.
Emma took the flowers; her eyes lit up. They sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea, chatting about the weather and market prices. When the tea was finished, Alan prepared to leave. He slipped his coat on slowly, then, just before the doorway, turned back to her.
If I walked out now and never said anything, Id never forgive myself. Emma, Ive spent the whole week thinking of you. Honest truth. I cant wait for the weekend, so I came straight over. I got your address from Tom.
Emma blushed and looked down.
We barely know each other, she replied.
Thats fine. Do you mind if Im a bit informal? By the way, Im not a perfect catch. I have an eightyearold daughter whos staying with her grandmother at the moment, Alan said, his hands trembling slightly.
A daughter is a blessing. Ive always wanted one, Emma said dreamily.
Encouraged, Alan took her hands, pulled her close, and kissed her.
After the kiss, he looked at her, seeing tears glisten.
Do you find me disagreeable? he asked softly.
No, quite the opposite. I never expected this it feels sweet and calm, as if Im not stealing from anyone, she whispered.
From then on they met every weekend. Two months later they married and settled in the village. Emma found a job at the local nursery, and a year after that she gave birth to a daughter. Their two girls grew up loved and wellcared for, and there was always enough attention and affection for everyone. Emma and Alan grew older together, their love maturing like a fine wine.
At many gatherings Tom would wink at Emma, Well, Gal, what a husband Ive set you up with, eh? You keep getting better. I wouldnt have steered you wrong listen to your brother!
