Gala and Her Newfound Joy: Love After a Difficult Choice

Emily had been a lover for years, never quite managing a proper marriage. She lingered among fleeting romances until she turned thirty, then finally decided she wanted a man of her own. She didnt know at first that James was already married, but the truth slipped out as soon as he realised Emily had grown attached and fallen for him.

Emily never flung any reproach at James. Instead she blamed herself, scolding herself for the weakness that had drawn her to him. She felt inadequate, as though shed missed her chance at a proper husband while time slipped away. She wasnt a striking beauty, but she was pleasantlooking, a little roundbodied, the sort of look that hinted at a comfortable age.

The affair with James led nowhere. Emily didnt want to remain a mistress, yet she could not simply abandon James the thought of being truly alone terrified her.

One afternoon her cousin Tom dropped by, a brief stop in the city on a work assignment. He stayed a few hours, the two of them sharing a kitchen table, chatting as children used to about everything and nothing, about the present life. Emily poured out her story, tears slipping as she spoke.

Just then the neighbour, Mrs. Whitaker, popped in for a quick look at the groceries Emily had bought. Emily stepped out for twenty minutes. While she was gone, a knock sounded at the door. Tom went to answer, assuming Emily had returned, but the door was left ajar. On the doorstep stood James, his face as bewildered as a stranger in a dream. Tom instantly recognised him as Emilys lover. James stared at the sight of a hulking man in tracksuits and a plain shirt, chewing a sausage sandwich, and seemed lost.

Is Emily home? James asked, his voice hanging in the hallway.

Shes in the bathroom, Tom guessed, as if he had read the script.

Excuse me, who are you to her? James stammered.

Im her partner, civilly. And you? What business have you here? Tom pressed, grabbing James by the shoulders. Arent you the married chap Emily kept talking about? Listen, if I see you here again Ill push you down the stairs, understand?

James wriggled free and fled down the stairs.

Emily returned shortly after, and Tom recounted the bizarre visit.

What have you done? Who sent you? she wept. Hell never come back.

She sank onto the sofa, covering her face.

Tom, with a halfsmile, said, He wont be back, and thats a relief. Stop whining. I know a good man a widower in our village, widowed for years, yet no one approaches him because the women think hes too taken. He wants company, just one. After my next trip Ill bring you there, be ready. Well go together, Ill introduce you.

Emilys eyes widened. No, Tom, I cant. I dont know any of this. It feels shameful, like sleeping with a stranger. I cant.

Tom replied, Its not about a stranger, its about a proper man. Think of our friend Lilys birthday, well make a day of it.

A few days later Emily and Tom were in the little hamlet of Brambleton. Toms wife, Sarah, had set a garden table near the old washhouse. Neighbours, friends and Toms widowed acquaintance, Arthur, arrived for a modest celebration. Emily had never met Arthur before; the village folk knew her, but this was her first sight of the quiet widower.

After the warm chatter, Emily returned to the city, noting in her mind how gentle and modest Arthur seemed. He must be worried about his late wife. Poor soul, such a tender heart, she thought.

A week later, on a Saturday, there was a knock at Emilys door. She opened it to find Arthur standing there, a paper bag in his hands.

May I come in, Emily? I was passing through on my way to the market and thought Id stop. Since were acquainted now, Id like to visit, he said, a practiced line slipping from his lips.

Emily invited him in, still surprised but offering tea, sensing the visit wasnt chance.

Did you get everything you needed? she asked.

Yes, the groceries are in the car. And for you, Arthur said, pulling out a modest bunch of tulips from the bag and handing them to her.

She took the flowers, and her eyes brightened. They sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea and talking about weather and market prices. When the tea was finished, Arthur stood, slipped his coat on slowly, and, just as he reached the door, turned back.

If I walked out now without saying anything, Id never forgive myself. Emily, Ive spent the whole week thinking of you. I swear it. Ive been waiting for the weekend, and thats why I came. I got your address from Tom.

Emilys cheeks flushed, and she looked down.

We barely know each other, she whispered.

It doesnt matter. May I call you Emily? Im not perfect, I have a little girl, eight, staying with her grandmother.

Arthurs hands trembled slightly.

A daughter is a blessing, Emily murmured dreamily. Ive always wanted a child.

Encouraged, Arthur took her hands, drew her close, and kissed her. After the kiss, tears glittered in Emilys eyes.

Do you find me disagreeable? he asked, halflaughing.

No, quite the opposite. I never expected this its sweet, its calm. Im not stealing anyones love.

From that day on they met each weekend. Two months later they married in the village chapel, and Emily found work at the local nursery. A year later their daughter was born, and two girls grew up together, cherished and loved in equal measure. Their love, like a wellaged wine, grew richer with each passing year.

Tom, at many gatherings, would wink at Emily and say, Well, Gal, what a husband Ive set you up with! Youre blooming brighter every day. Id never steer you wrong listen to your brother!