Galia and Her Newfound Joy: Love After a Difficult Choice – Gifts for Couples

Emily had been a lover for years, a secret kept in the shadows of her twenties. She had lingered in a circle of friends until she turned thirty, then finally resolved to find a man of her own. She did not know at first that James was married, but the truth slipped out as soon as he sensed that Emily had clung to him, that she had begun to love him.

Emily never blamed James. Instead she scolded herself for the affair and for the weakness she felt toward him. She regarded herself as a failure, lamenting that she had not secured a husband in time while the calendar kept ticking. Yet she was not unattractive: not a goddess, but a pleasant roundness that hinted at a gentle maturity.

The relationship with James led nowhere. Emily could not bear to remain merely his lover, yet she could not abandon him either; the thought of solitude chilled her heart. One afternoon, her cousin Sam appeared at her door, a brief stop on a work trip to the city. He lingered for a few hours, the two of them sharing a kitchen table, reminiscing about childhood games and the current state of the world. Emily poured out her story, tears glistening as she spoke.

Just then the neighbour knocked, asking Emily to step out briefly to appraise some purchases. She vanished for twenty minutes, leaving the front door unlocked. When the bell rang, Sam rose to answer, expecting Emilys return. On the doorstep stood James, dishevelled in gym shorts and a stained Tshirt, chewing a ham sandwich.

Is Emily home? James asked, his voice wavering.

Emilys in the bath, Sam replied without hesitation.

Pardon, who are you to her? James stammered.

Im her… partner, sort of. A civil one, if you will. And youwhat business have you here? Sam pressed, seizing James by the shoulders. Arent you the married fellow Emily keeps talking about? Listen, if I see you here again Ill push you down the stairs, understand?

James broke free and fled down the hallway. Emily returned moments later, her cheeks damp. Sam recounted the intrusion.

What have you done? Who sent you? Emily sobbed. Hell never come back.

Sam settled onto the couch, covering his face. He wont, and thats a blessing. Stop wallowing. I know a decent widower in the nearby villagea man whose late wifes memory still haunts him, yet hes keeping his distance. Hes looking for someone. After my next trip Ill bring you there. Be ready; well go together.

Emily stared, bewildered. I cant… I dont know him. This feels wrong, like a shameful bargain.

Think of it as a chance, Sam coaxed. Youre not sleeping with a married man, youd be meeting a free soul. My own birthdays coming up, and Id rather you be happy.

A few days later Emily and Sam were on a winding country road heading to the village. Sams wife, Grace, had set a table in the garden beside the old stone bathhouse. Neighbours and friends gathered for a modest celebration, among them the widower Tom. Emily had never met Tom before; the villagers whispered that he was a quiet, respectable man who still mourned his late wife.

The evening swirled with laughter and soft music. When the gathering faded, Emily returned to the city, thinking Tom seemed gentle, perhaps too gentle. He must be thinking of his wife all the time, she mused, poor fellow, not many hearts left for him.

A week later, on a lazy Saturday, the doorbell rang unexpectedly. Emily opened the door to find Tom standing there, clutching a brown paper bag.

May I come in, Emily? I was just passing through the market and thought Id stop by. Since were acquainted now, perhaps I could pay a visit, he said, his voice tentative.

Emily invited him in, offering tea. She sensed there was more to his arrival than chance. Did you get everything you needed? she asked.

Everythings in the boot, Tom replied, pulling a modest bouquet of tulips from the bag and handing it to her.

Emily took the flowers, her eyes brightening. They sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea while the rain drummed against the windows. The conversation drifted from the weather to the prices of produce. When the tea was finished, Tom rose to leave, slipping his coat on and tying his shoes with slow deliberation. At the threshold, he turned back, his gaze fixed on Emily.

If I walked away now without saying anything, Id never forgive myself. Emily, Ive spent the whole week thinking of you. Thats the honest truth. I couldnt wait for any other weekend, so I drove here. I got your address from Sam

Emilys cheeks flushed, and she lowered her gaze.

We barely know each other, she whispered.

It doesnt matter. May I call you by your first name? Im not perfect. I have a little daughter, eight years old, staying with her grandmother at the moment, Tom said, his hands trembling slightly.

A daughter is a blessing, Emily murmured, a wistful smile forming. Ive always wanted a child.

Encouraged, Tom took Emilys hands, pulled her close, and kissed her. After the kiss, tears glimmered in Emilys eyes.

Do you find me unpleasant? he asked, his voice soft.

No, quite the opposite. I never imagined this It feels sweet and calm, as if Im stealing nothing from anyone, she replied.

From that day onward, they met every weekend. Two months later, they married in the village chapel and settled there. Emily found a job at the local nursery, and a year after, she gave birth to a daughter. Their home soon echoed with the laughter of two girls, each beloved and cherished. The love between Emily and Tom deepened with each passing year, maturing like fine wine left to breathe.

At family gatherings, Sam would often wink at Emily and say, Well, Emily, what a husband Ive set you up with, eh? Youre getting brighter every day. I wouldnt steer you wronglisten to your brother!