Grace had always been the other woman. Marriage hadnt favoured hershed stayed single until her thirties before finally deciding to find a man. At first, she didnt know Paul was married, but once shed grown attached, he didnt bother hiding it.
Yet Grace never blamed Paul. Instead, she scolded herself for the affair and her weakness. She felt flawed, as if shed failed by not securing a husband in time. But to look at her, she wasnt bad at allnot a beauty, but pleasant, slightly plump, which perhaps added years to her appearance.
The relationship led nowhere. Grace didnt want to remain the mistress, but leaving Paul terrified herbeing alone was worse.
One day, her cousin Steve dropped by unexpectedly. He was in town for work and stopped over for a few hours. Over lunch in the kitchen, they chatted like old times, and Grace confessed everything, shedding a few tears.
Just then, her neighbour popped in, asking Grace to come over briefly to admire some new purchases. Grace stepped out for twenty minutes.
A knock came at the door. Steve answered, thinking Grace had returnedthey hadnt locked it. Paul stood there, startled to find a burly man in a vest and tracksuit bottoms munching a ham sandwich.
«Grace in?» was all Paul managed.
«Shes in the bath,» Steve said smoothly.
«Sorry, who are you?» Paul stammered.
«Her husband. Common-law. For now.» Steve stepped closer, grabbing Pauls collar. «You wouldnt be that married bloke she told me about, would you? Listen here. If I see you again, Ill toss you down the stairs. Clear?»
Paul wriggled free and bolted.
When Grace returned, Steve told her what happened.
«What have you done? Who asked you to interfere?» she cried. «He wont come back now.»
She sank onto the sofa, covering her face.
«Good riddance. Stop blubbering. Ive got a decent bloke in mind for youa widower back home. Women flock to him, but hes kept his distance. After my trip, Ill fetch you. Well go down, introduce you.»
Grace hesitated. «Just like that? No, Steve, I cant. What if?»
«Shames sleeping with a married man, not meeting a free one. No ones dragging you to bed. Come onits my Louises birthday soon.»
Days later, they were in the village. Louise had set up a garden party by the shed. Neighbours and friends gathered, including Steves mate, the widower Alfie. Grace knew the locals but had never met Alfie before.
After a warm evening, Grace returned to the city. Alfie had been quiet, reserved. «Still grieving his wife, poor man,» she thought. «Not many like him left.»
A week later, her doorbell rang unexpectedly. She opened it to find Alfie holding a bag.
«Hope you dont mind,» he said awkwardly. «Was in town for the market. Thought Id drop by.»
Grace invited him in, puzzled but polite. Over tea, they talked about the weather and market prices. As he left, fumbling with his coat, he turned suddenly.
«If I dont say it now, Ill regret it. Grace, Ive thought of you all week. Couldnt wait to see you again.»
She blushed. «We hardly know each other.»
«Doesnt matter. Unless you find me off-putting? Andmind if we drop the formalities? Im no prize, mind. Got a little girl, eight years old. Shes with her gran now.»
His hands trembled slightly.
«A daughters lovely,» Grace said softly. «Ive always wanted one.»
Encouraged, Alfie took her hands, pulled her close, and kissed her.
When he drew back, her eyes shone with tears.
«Did I upset you?»
«Nothe opposite. I never expected It felt right. Not stolen.»
They met every weekend after. Two months later, they married and settled in the village. Grace found work at the nursery, and within a year, she had a daughter of her own. Both girls grew up loved equally.
Alfie and Grace only grew happier with time, their love deepening like aged wine.
At gatherings, Steve often winked at her.
«Well, Gracie? Didnt I pick you a proper husband? Youre glowing. Shed laugh, swatting his arm, You didnt pick himhe picked me. And in her heart, she knew it was true.
