This Will Be a Whole New Life

At twenty, Emily never imagined what lay ahead. She was studying at university, deeply in love with her boyfriend Thomas, and dreaming of their weddingconversations about it had already begun.

Thomas was older, having completed his military service before attending their old schools autumn ball, where Emily, then in her final year, first saw him. Though theyd grown up in the same town and even attended the same school, he had graduated years before.

“Who is *that*?” Emily thought, her breath catching as Thomas stepped into the hall.

He scanned the room, searching for familiar faces, then locked eyes with her and smiled. She fell for him instantly. How could she not? He was unlike any other man shed ever metcharming, confident, effortlessly magnetic.

“Hi, Im Thomas,” he said, approaching her. “And you are?”

Her cheeks flushed. “Emily.”

“Care to dance?” He took her hand, pulling her close, and they spun across the floor. She barely felt the ground beneath her, swept up in his arms, every movement in perfect sync.

“Youre a natural,” he murmured, grinning.

He stayed by her side the entire evening. By the end of the night, theyd agreed he would walk her home. They lingered under streetlamps, reluctant to part, but Emily knew she had to goher mother would worry.

Thomas never let life grow dull. After school, Emily enrolled in university while he worked. His energy was infectious, his laughter drawing people in. Soon, she was part of his worldweekend trips, weddings, late-night café talks. Even in winter, he brought her roses, turning every date into something magical.

During her third year, he surprised her.

“Ive booked us a ski trip for the holidays,” he said, eyes alight. “Youll learn in no time. The instructors there are brilliant.”

She squealed, throwing her arms around him. “Youre the best!” Then, pulling back, she laughed nervously. “WaitIm terrified of heights! You *knew* that!”

The trip was unforgettable. By the end, she was gliding down slopes with ease, dreading the return to reality. Months later, on Mothers Day, Thomas arrived at her door with two bouquetsone for Emily, one for her mum.

“Happy Mothers Day,” he said, kissing Emilys cheek. “These are for you, love.”

Her mother sighed. “Thomas, you shouldnt spend so much.”

“Its fine,” he said. “Jack and Ryan are heading up north for workasked me to join. Theyre laying power lines, paying well. A few months, and Ill have enough for our wedding. Maybe even a car.”

Emilys stomach dropped. “I dont want you to go.”

“Its just three, four months tops. Well call every day. I want our wedding to be perfectdont you?”

“Id marry you in a registry office,” she said softly. “All that matters is being together.”

But his mind was made up. He left with his friends. The pay *was* good. They spoke often.

Then, one day, sitting in a lecture, Emily felt a sudden unease. It passed, but by evening, her heart wouldnt settle. She called himhe always called first. No answer. She tried again. And again. Silence.

Her pulse hammered in her temples.

She dialled Ryan instead.

“Ryan, wheres Thomas?”

A pause. Then, quietly: “Hes gone, Em.”

The world tilted. “What do you mean, *gone*?”

A click. The line went dead.

She screamed for her mother, collapsing into sobs.

The days that followed were a blur. Thomas had been electrocuted on the job. His mother, Margaret, hollow with grief, barely spoke. His father and younger brother, James, went to bring him home.

Then came the funeral. The mourning. The endless, suffocating dark.

Emily moved through life numb. She visited Margaret often, sitting in heavy silence or accompanying her to the cemetery.

For some reason, Margaret clung to her, pleading for her company. Even as summer arrived and university broke, she insisted Emily stay close. They visited churches, drank tea, until one day

“Lets go to the seaside,” Margaret said abruptly.

Emily agreed, though she didnt know why. Her own mother had urged her to let go, but she couldnt refuse.

Now, standing on the pier, the sea stretched endlessly before her. Gulls screeched. Children laughed. Life thrived around heryet she felt utterly alone.

“Youre beautiful when youre sad,” a voice said.

She turned, ready to snapthen froze. The man reminded her of Thomas. In his smile, perhaps. His eyes.

“Beautiful people arent meant to be happy,” she muttered.

“I disagree,” he said. “Im Oliver.”

“Emily.”

They exchanged a few words before she walked away. But Oliver watched her go. Hed noticed her days agoalways solemn, never alone.

Two days before she left, they crossed paths again. He took her grocery bag without asking.

“Lets talk,” he said, nodding to a nearby café.

She hesitated, then sat.

“I leave in three days,” he said. “You?”

“Tomorrow night.”

His eyes widened. “Waityoure from *Manchester*? So am I!”

Coincidence became connection. Oliver had graduated from her university, now worked at the city council. Single, after a messy breakupthis trip was his escape.

She told him about Thomas. About Margaret.

His brow furrowed. “Why does she keep you so close? Most parents distance themselves.”

Emily shrugged. “I dont know.”

They exchanged numbers, promising to meet back home.

Returning to the hotel, she found Margaret agitated. “Where were you?”

“Out.”

The weight of Margarets presence grew unbearable. That night, as they packed, Emily finally said, “When we get back, Im moving on.”

Margarets gaze sharpened. “Another life? Of course. Youre young. ButI thought I hoped you might be pregnant. Or that you and James”

Emily recoiled. “*What?*”

The pieces clicked. Margaret didnt see *her*just a placeholder for Thomas.

Disgust curdled in her stomach. “No. Never.” She burst into tearsthe first real release since the funeral.

That night, she made a choice.

A new term began. She dated Oliver. One day, she visited Thomass grave alone.

“Goodbye,” she whispered. “Thank you for everything. I have to live now.”

At the gates, Oliver waited.

She stepped into the carand into her new life.