Emma knew everything. Of course she did; she wasnt in her twenties any more, certainly not in her thirties.
She was tired of being alone, of carrying that heavy load by herself.
Lucy, why is this happening to me? Whats wrong with me? Am I boring? Do I smell? Am I clingy? Or perhaps I just dont give enough love and tenderness.
Whats wrong with me? she asked herself.
Everyone around hertall, short, thin, stout, drinkers, the beautiful, the plainseemed to have a partner, a life of their own. And she had none.
Why am I alone?
Listen, Emdont laugh, but my gran used to tell me about somethinga crown of singleness, Lucy whispered, leaning forward.
A crown of singleness? Come off it, were not living in the Middle Ages, Emma snorted.
Dont you believe me? Lucy sprang from her seat. My thirdcousins aunt had that very crownmy gran took it off for her.
What gran? Emma asked, halfinterested, just to keep the conversation going.
Anyway, Ill call Nadine, my sister. Shes the one who had the crown removed, and shell fill us in.
Ten minutes later Lucy was scribbling on a napkin, tongue tucked at the edge.
Right, Nadinethanks. How are you? Getting married again? What about Ben? Oh, he left you? No worriesIll be there.
She hung up, paused, then asked, Did something happen?
Nothingwell, actually yes. I need a wedding gift againmy sister is getting married for the fifth time. Seems that old grandma really did a number on that crown. Heres the address. Are you coming?
Emma shrugged. She went, but the old woman at the shop turned her around and sent her back emptyhanded.
You dont have a crown.
I do, I
What? You keep picking the wrong men? The first one left you with a child, a cheat who was already married. Did you not know? He was a scoundrel, tossed you aside. Thats why everything feels off.
Was the second one also no good? Emma smirked.
The second wasnt yours either, the old woman confirmed. The third wasnt either.
The third? I have no one.
There will be noneuntil the right one appears, when you least expect it. Hell be yours, though not entirely yoursthere will be a girl involved, you cant change that. Trust him; hes reliable, hell bring you a happiness youve never known. Maybe youll even have him completely, if youre patient and dont rush.
Now goand tell your friend she should see a doctor, drink some herbal tea and visit a gynaecologist. Tell her the old woman asked me to pass the message.
That conversation had taken place many years before.
Desperate to find her own happiness, Emma had once visited the village wisewoman. Everything the wisewoman said seemed to come true.
When Emma finally met the third man, she had forgotten the old womans words entirely. He was good, treated Emmas daughter kindly, but something always happened that caused him to disappear abruptly, never to explain himself.
Later Emma met James. At first she didnt recognise him; he was the neighbour whose flat had stood empty for years. When Emma moved in with her daughter, the buildings longtime caretaker, Aunt Kate, mentioned that the owner only appeared now and then, staying with his mother.
One day Emma, curious, peeked through the slightly ajar door of the flat next door and saw a man putting up wallpaper. She slipped away, assuming the owner had returned.
Their first real meeting was in the corridor a week later. The doors in the building were oddly designedopening one would lock the other, so you had to close the first before the second could be opened. Emma rushed to work, tried to open her door, but it wouldnt budge. The neighbour apologized, shut his flat, and Emma heard quick, light footsteps.
Later she blocked his exit on purpose, then they met again on the communal landing, where he let her be the first to open the door.
One afternoon James helped a friend lift a bicycle, and Emma baked some scones and delivered them to him. They later ran into each other in the park, where Jamess sonabout the same age as Emmas daughterjoined the two families in a spontaneous game on the swings. Emma and James laughed together.
Six months on, James asked Emma out on a proper date, introduced her to his family, and they began living together. Before moving in, James told his story.
Emma, Im not a twentyyearold lad, nor a brute. Im a grown man with my own views and temperament. I promise that if you live with me, I wont be unfaithful. Ill do the hard work, help out, earn a living, I dont drink or smoke, and I have no nasty habits. Ill respect you, cherish you Im sorry, I cant love you the way I should, Ive tried before and failed.
Im not a stone, Emma, I do feel something for you, just not the kind Id hoped for. Im not sure Im what you need.
He went on, recalling a youthful love that never worked out, how he had treated a woman only as a friend, and how he had spent years trying to push those feelings away.
Emma asked, Should I have talked to her?
He answered, I told her I loved her, but she only ever saw me as a brother. He then recounted a conversation with another woman, Inna, about why he left herbecause he didnt love her. She shrugged, Shes beautiful and smart, why does it matter if you dont love her?
He realised then that love for him felt more like a punishment than a gift. He felt like a wounded man, unable to give happiness to a woman, fearing that any lie would only hurt further.
I just want you to decide if you can live without dramatic emotions. My wife couldnt, he said. Think about it.
Emma thought it over and, a week later, met Jamess large, cheerful family. They welcomed both Emma and her daughter warmly. She had feared being seen as a replacement or pitied, but everything went smoothly.
She never regretted marrying James; he proved reliable, and together they solved Emmas problems. She tried not to dwell on passion, focusing instead on the steady happiness they built. Occasionally, a fleeting glance from James reminded her of past loves, but it never disrupted their life.
Sometimes, that lingering look made her wonder if she deserved a love that changed. Yet she realised that waiting, as the old woman had said, was the key.
One spring morning, James stood at the kitchen window watching the sunlight spill over the garden while Emma washed the panes, humming softly. He entered the room, admiring her, feeling a rare freedom, as if a longlost love had finally returned to his side.
He turned to her, smiled, and said, Emma, you have no idea how wonderful everything feels now. He kissed her, realizing fully how deeply he loved her.
Emma thought, The old crone was rightsometimes you just have to wait.
Good morning, dear ones. May the love you have yet to meet flutter through your window, and if you already hold it, cherish it.
I send you warm thoughts and positivity, always yours.
Patience and trust are the quiet foundations upon which lasting love is built.
