The air in the cottage was heavy with grief as Emily and her husband, James, returned from the funeral of his mother, Margaret. The weight of the day pressed on their shoulders as they stepped inside, the silence between them thick with unspoken memories.
«Shes at peace now,» James murmured, rubbing his temple. «Buried beside Dad, just as she always wanted. Even when she was ill, it was all she spoke about.»
Emily nodded, her voice soft. «She knew wed lay her to rest therewhere else would we? But still, it was all she could think of. At least the sufferings over. That illness was cruel.»
The evening stretched on, each lost in their own thoughts. Emilys mind drifted to her pastbefore James, before this life. There had been little joy in those years. Shed lost both parents young, taken in a single night when a fire ripped through her grandmothers cottage after her grandfathers funeral. She and her older brother, William, had been spared only because theyd stayed home that evening. By dawn, they were orphans.
The villagers had whispered that Grandad Albert had taken his wife, his son, and daughter-in-law with himas if death were a family reunion. William, seventeen then, had shouldered the burden, working odd jobs in the village while Emily, just thirteen, did her best in school. Life had been unkind, and even now, she sometimes wondered how shed survived it.
Their village was smallbarely forty cottages clustered together. The local school only went up to year four; after that, children trekked three miles to the next village. In winter, theyd cut across the frozen river to save time. Years ago, old Mr. Harris would ferry them by horse-drawn cart on Mondays, and theyd stay in the boarding house till Saturday. But the older boysled by Thomas, the mayors sonpreferred walking home in autumn and spring, eager for the freedom of the open fields.
«Anyone heading back tonight, meet by the benches after lessons,» Thomas would call. Three miles wasnt far, not in a group. Alone, the woods were frightening, but together, they were fearless. Nights were for sweethearts, for scribbled notes passed under desks, for weekend dances at the village hall.
Emily had been one of those girlspretty as a summer rose, with a voice like honey. The boys, young and old alike, watched her with quiet awe. A glance from her could send a lad reeling; a word from her lips would linger in his thoughts for days. She was clever, gentleflawless in a way that felt almost unnatural.
But she was also an orphan, living on her brothers charity. William had married a local girl, Sarah, and though Emily tried to please her, she knew she wasnt wanted.
«Ill leave after school,» she told herself. «Enrol at catering college in town. Sarah wont miss me.» She never complained to William, never wanted to come between him and his wife.
The village boys respected her too much to speak crudely. They all hoped, one day, she might choose one of them. But Emily kept her distanceuntil Thomas, the mayors son, started walking her home.
Rumours spread like wildfire. Soon, the whole village knewThomas and Emily were sweethearts. Hand in hand at dusk, lingering by the school gate. Thomas was tall, broad-shouldered, more man than boy. Clever, like her. They made a striking pair.
«Two lovebirds,» the old women clucked. «Mark my words, therell be a wedding before harvest.»
But not everyone approved. Thomass father, Richardthe wealthiest man in the villagewouldnt have his son marry a penniless orphan.
«Listen, Margaret,» he told his wife, «what does that girl think shes doing, snaring our boy? Pretty, yes, but shes got nothing. Lives off her brothers scraps.»
«I dont know, Richard,» Margaret fretted. «Hes besotted. Out till all hours with her. And with no parents to keep her in check…»
«Ill find him a proper brideone from a good family. The agricultural officers daughter over in Chisworth. Not as pretty, but her fathers got land, a new car. Thats the match we need.»
«How do we even talk sense into Thomas? He wont listen.»
Richard smirked. «Leave that to me.»
He cornered Thomas in the yard. «Sit down, lad. We need to talk.»
«Cant, Dad. Emilys waitingdont want her upset.»
Richard scoffed. «Oh, wouldnt want that, would we? Heard youre sweet on her.»
Thomas stood firm. «We love each other. Weve got plans.»
«Well, unmake them. Youll not marry some nobody. Ill find you a proper wife.»
«Nobody but Emily,» Thomas shot back.
Richards jaw tightened. «Youll do as youre told.»
When reason failed, Richard turned to cunning. He paid Sarah a visit, slipping her a hefty sum to send Emily packingoff to a distant aunt in Yorkshire.
William, swayed by his wifes insistence, bundled Emily onto a train with nothing but an address crumpled in her hand.
Heartbroken, Thomas withdrew. Even his mother regretted their scheming. Then came his conscription notice. Two years in the army, stationed up north. His letters home were stiff, formalno forgiveness in them.
Then, near the end of his service, a letter arrived: *»Ive found a girl. Bringing her home.»*
Richard crowed. «See? Hes forgotten her. Well throw a proper wedding.»
The village buzzed with gossip. When the taxi pulled up outside Richards house, everyone gathered, craning their necks.
Out stepped Thomas in uniformand beside him, radiant in white, was Emily.
The crowd gasped.
Richard and Margaret froze.
«Meet my bride,» Thomas announced, grinning.
The villagers erupted in laughter and cheers.
«What a lad!» someone shouted. «True love wins out!»
Defeated, Richard and Margaret had no choice but to welcome her. The wedding was the talk of the village.
Years passed. They built a happy lifea cottage of their own, two sons. Even Richard grew fond of Emily. Grudges faded.
When Richard died, Margaret followed soon after. Emily nursed her tenderly, grieving the woman whod become a second mother to her.
Now, the house was quiet. James sighed, rubbing his eyes. Emily reached for his hand.
Time would soften the grief. Life went on.
