A Heartbroken Single Mother Sits Alone at a Wedding, the Focus of…

A lonely, sorrowful single mother sat by herself at a wedding, the subject of whispered ridicule, when a shadowy underworld figure approached her and said, Pretend youre my wife and dance with me.

The laughter that swirled around them drowned out the band.

Eleanor perched alone at the far end of the banquet hall, hands clenched nervously in her lap, eyes fixed on an untouched glass of champagne perched on the table before her. Her faded, borrowed floral dress barely concealed the exhaustion in her gaze. Across the room, couples glided gracefully beneath gilded crystal chandeliers while hushed gossip hovered over the tables like circling hawks.

Shes a single mum, isnt she? sneered the bridesmaid in a crisp white dress. Her husband left her. No wonder shes alone, another giggled.

Eleanor swallowed hard. She had sworn not to crynot at her cousins wedding, not today. Yet when she saw a father and his little girl twirling on the dance floor, something cracked inside her. She thought of her son, Daniel, asleep at home under the care of a nanny. She thought of the countless nights she pretended everything was fine.

A deep, gentle voice sounded behind her. Dance with me.

She turned and found herself facetoface with a man in an immaculate black suit. Broad shoulders, dark eyes, an aura that seemed to silence the room. He was instantly recognizable: Simon Blackwell, the notorious businessman from London whispered to be the head of a powerful crime syndicate.

I I dont even know him, she stammered.

Then lets pretend, he whispered, extending his hand. Pretend youre my wife just for a dance.

The crowd fell silent as Eleanor hesitated, her fingers trembling at the edge of his grip. A ripple of astonishment spread through the hall as Simon led her toward the centre of the dance floor. The band shifted to a slow, haunting waltz that filled the air.

As they moved together, Eleanor noticed the whispers dying down. No one dared to mutter any more. For the first time in years she no longer felt invisible; she felt seen, protected.

When Simon leaned in, his voice barely more than a whisper, he said,

Dont look back. Just smile.

The music faded, but the room remained hushed, every eye fixed on the mysterious man and the lone mother who now seemed a queen. Simons hand rested lightly on her waist, his gaze sweeping the crowd with razorsharp focus.

When the song ended, he guided her off the floor. You did well, he murmured.

Eleanor blinked. What just happened?

Lets just say, Simon replied with a halfsmile, I needed a diversion.

They slipped to a quiet corner table, her heart still pounding. He poured her a dram of whisky, each movement deliberate. Those people wont bother you any longer, he said, casting a glance toward the murmuring crowd. Theyre frightened of what they dont understand.

He studied herher jaw, the thin scar beside her ear, the way she could be both dangerous and gentle. You shouldnt have helped me.

I didnt do it for you, he said softly. Someone in this room wanted to make a fool of me. You helped me turn the tables.

Eleanor frowned. So I was just a cover?

Perhaps, he said, his expression softening. But I didnt expect you to look at me the way you did, as if I were human.

Before she could answer, two men in dark suits approached, murmuring in low tones. Simons face hardened. He rose abruptly. Stay here, he ordered in an authoritative tone.

Curiosity overrode fear. Eleanor followed him outside, her heels clicking on the marble steps. By the valet stand she saw Simon speaking to another man, a pistol tucked beneath his jacket. Sharp words were exchanged, then the stranger slipped away in a black car. Simon turned, his eyes dark.

You werent supposed to see that, he said, moving close. It wasnt my intention

Youre brave, he interrupted, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Or foolish.

His gaze locked onto hers. Now that youve seen me, you cant simply disappear from my life, Eleanor.

The night breeze carried the scent of roses and a hint of danger. For the first time, Eleanor realised she had stepped into a world far larger than herself.

Two days later, Simon appeared at the door of their modest flat in Manchester. Daniel was building a Lego tower in the living room when he looked up and asked, Mum, is that the man from the wedding?

Simon gave a faint smile. Something like that.

Eleanors throat tightened, unsure whether to let him in. You shouldnt be here.

I know, he said, stepping forward. But I dont like unfinished business.

He glanced at the peeling wallpaper, the secondhand furniture, the quiet strength in her eyes. Youve fought this battle alone far too long, he said. You dont have to anymore.

Eleanor crossed her arms. You dont even know me.

I know what it feels like to be judged by everyone, Simon replied quietly. To be cast as the villain in every story.

A comfortable silence settled over the small room. Daniel crept out from behind the sofa, holding a tiny toy car. Simon knelt down. Nice wheels, he said. Daniel smiled, a rare, genuine grin that melted Eleanors heart.

Weeks turned into months, and Simon visited more often. Sometimes he brought groceries, other times he repaired the jammed lock on the front door. Occasionally he said nothing at all, simply sitting while Eleanor read bedtime stories to Daniel.

Rumours swirled about his power, danger, and blood ties, but none of that mattered when he was in her kitchen, helping Daniel with his maths. He wasnt the monster people whispered about; he was just Simon.

One stormy night, rain pelting the windows, Eleanor finally asked, Why me?

He looked at her with calm intensity. Because when everyone else turned away, you didnt.

She still wasnt sure she could trust him completely, but for the first time in years she wasnt afraid of what lay ahead. The woman once mocked and pitied had reclaimed her strength, not through a fairytale rescue, but through something raw, imperfect, and alive.

As they stood by the window watching the rain, Simon whispered, Perhaps it wasnt such a bad idea to pretend after all.

Eleanor smiled. Perhaps not.

In the end, she learned that pretending can be a bridge to truth, and that even the most unlikely allies can help us discover the courage to stand tall when the world looks away.