Eager to Walk Down the Aisle: Alla’s Second Chance at Love, a Son in His Twenties, a Cheating Husband, and a Romance with Her Former Algerian Student—But Will She Choose Her Old Flame or a New Beginning?

Ellen was eager to get married againsuccessfully, this time. Her first go at matrimony hadnt exactly been a fairy tale. She had a twenty-year-old son, James.

Years back, her husband had been caught out in a manner worthy of a soap opera. Ellen had returned from a work trip a day earlier than planned, only to walk in on her husband half-dressed, hurriedly making the bed in their room, while her closest friend stood in the kitchen brewing coffeein Ellens dressing gown! Textbook betrayal. The divorce was swift. Her treacherous friend was banished from her life for good. Ellen never delved into the messy details. Guilt meant consequences, simple as that. She packed her husbands things, sent him on his way, and told James to cut contact. At the time, Ellen wasnt even thirty.

Over the next decade, Ellen threw herself into academia. She earned her doctorate in English Literature and, at forty, became head of her department at the university. Colleagues respected her expertise, but those ten years of single life left her quietly yearning for a companion. She wasnt ready to become the spit-and-polish sort who knitted socks and did cross-stitch every night.

Suitors werent in short supply, but none made it to the shores of her heart. One bloke proposed marriage right after their first date, promptly borrowed fifty quid with the line, Were practically family now, and vanished. Another, a widower seeking a mother for his brood, invited Ellen round and asked her to cook dinner for his three children. She obliged, but after feeding the little ones and seeing their forlorn father, Ellen went home and wept. She pitied them, but she knew she didnt have it in her to shoulder such a burden. Maybe Im just selfish, she reasoned.

As time ticked on, her options dwindled. When Ellen was near giving up, ready to slam the book on love, along came someone unexpected.

His name was Paul, and he was twenty-eighta former student of Ellens. Back in the day, shed taught his English Lit seminar. Paul had stuck around after graduation, setting up a modest little shop in town. One afternoon, Ellen stopped to fill up her car at a petrol station and found that Paul was the owner.

They chatted, reminisced about university, and had a good laugh. Paul handed her his business card with a wink. Ellen found herself stopping by the station each week, partly for the fuel, mostly for the company. Soon, Paul was inviting her to dinners and classical concerts. Ellen demurred, not quite trusting the sincerity of her old pupil. But Paul wouldnt give up. She remembered how earnest hed been as a studentalways razor-sharp and hardworking, with perfect English. Tall, striking, and charming, hed turned heads among her pupilsand once, hed even given Ellen a delicate wooden trinket box with a note inside. She blushed, then turned pale after reading his words: Miss Ellen, I love you! Shed torn up the letter and hurried off, but Paul had apologised sincerely the next day.

He never overstepped again. For the rest of his studies, he watched her quietly from afar. Now, as life brought them together, Ellen was tornshould she accept his advances? Were just a man and a woman now destinys a strange thing, she mused.

She decided to let fate take the reins. What followed was a brief, dazzling romance. Their first date was unforgettablePaul was warm, witty, and disarmingly romantic. Ellen had never met a suitor like him. The age gap was irrelevant; she felt young and giddy, and Paul exuded the confidence of a man in his prime. She took to calling him Peter, and he called her Ellie in return. For the first time, Ellen basked in the glow of feeling truly desired. She loved with abandonshed waited a lifetime for this.

But Paul never proposed. He planned to return home to his family, whod already arranged a proper English fiancée for hima seventeen-year-old from a respectable family, named Harriet. Ellen would never have left her home, her mother, or James behind, anyway. She doubted Pauls family wouldve accepted an older outsider as a bride. Best to have her own bit of bread than covet someone elses cake.

So Ellen poured her unspent love and tenderness into Paul while she could. “However long this bright spell lasts, I’ll make sure to drink every drop, she confided to her mother.

Her mother fiercely objected. Ellie, why on earth do you need all this foreign nonsense? Havent we got enough Peters here at home? Ill never give you my blessing! Your ex-husband still hangs around, you know. Dont you see it? Hes sorry. Why not forgive him? Youve a son together!

Mum, Tom cheated on me! Did you forget? Ellen shot back.

Hes apologised over and over! And youre not faultless, either. You shut him out with your endless books and research. When a mans neglected, someone else will always take a fancy. And hes only human, her mum insisted.

Ellen bristled. You never forgave Dad, though, did you? He begged too.

Thats different! He left before you were born and had three other kids elsewhere. Then he waltzed back in to gawp at you. What was I supposed to do, take on his baggage? No. But your Tom wanders about, alone for ten years, waiting for you to change your mind. James still loves him.

Oh, Mum, I dont plan to marry Paul. Im too old for that. Ill just wait for him to go. I could never leave first. Well see how it goes Ellen mused.

Ah, child even an old mare fancies a bit of salt. Mum sighed.

Three years on, Paul said goodbye. Ill keep in touch, my love, he told her. Ellen expected it, but it stung more than shed admitted. She hated thinking of him returning to young Harriet. For a parting gift, Paul gave her the very same trinket box that had started it all, this time with an exquisite ring inside, shaped like two little angels holding a diamond heart.

My heart stays with you, Ellie, Paul told her, pressing a heated kiss on her lips.

He flew home.

A year later, Paul sent a wedding photo”This is my wife, Harriet. Not long after, another shot arrived”This is my second wife, Mary. He explained that back home, having more than one wife was permitted. When Ellen saw these updates, she felt no jealousy. You youngsters know nothing of true love,” she thought, with a wry smile. The grooms sorrowful eyes brought a flicker of comfortperhaps he missed her too. Still, old love rusts when fresh feelings blow in.

Time moved on. Ellens son married, bringing a young bride home. When their daughter was born, Ellen asked to call her Ellieto keep the old romance alive in memory.

Eventually, Ellen forgave (or perhaps pitied) her ex-husband. The pain was gone and forgiveness settled in. Tom wormed his way back via her mother, who finally convinced Ellen to let the past rest.

He knows he was wrong, and who among us is innocent? Temptation finds us all. Few can resist, in the end.

Now Ellen and Tom live together again, sticking close. She even finished a knitting course. Now, she knits little socks for her granddaughter Ellie, intricate with English rosesEvery evening, Ellen sits in her armchair by the window, needles clicking away as dusk drifts softly across the garden. Tom perches by her side, reading aloud from her row of beloved books, his voice now steady and true. The past lingers in the gentle nudges and glances they sharereminders of pain, endurance, and something simpler: kindness, earned and re-earned.

Sometimes, when James brings little Ellie to visit, the toddlers laughter fills the rooms with a brightness Ellen once thought shed lost for good. There are days, too, when a letter in foreign handwriting arrivesshort, careful notes from Paul, wishing her well, each one tucked in the old carved trinket box. Ellen never replies, but she always smiles, tracing the lid with the softness reserved only for souvenirs of youth.

In the end, love didnt look like thunder or fireworks after all. It became the soothing hush in Ellens chest; the safe warmth of shared tea at dawn; a forgiveness grown from regret, watered by time. Sometimes, she thinks back to those days when her heart ran wild and young, and laughs at her hunger for drama. Life, she realizes, is made in the small stitchesthe ones that bind whats mended, stronger than before.

Ellens happiness, she learns, is her own quiet creation. And as her granddaughter curls into her lap, bright-eyed and curious, Ellen whispers, Someday youll have stories too, my dear. But remember: its the gentle endings that last.