They Took Their Time to Love, For They Had Always Loved

Hey love, let me tell you this sweet little story Ive been thinking about. It all takes place in the quiet corner of the town library in York you know how calm it always feels there, even when there are a few visitors wandering in. Emma Clarke never ever made a fuss at anyone. The moment you step into that grand room with the towering shelves, people just pause, glance around, and then drift over to her with a smile.

Good morning, theyd say, polite as ever, before asking for the book they need.

Good morning, Emma would reply, her smile warm, listening carefully to each patron.

Shes naturally friendly and courteous, and working among the books feels like it was meant for her. Sometimes shed think to herself, Its brilliant that fate led me down this path; I cant imagine a job that would give me such peace and passion. Its a joy when work feels like a hobby, and most visitors are just as polite.

Sure, there are moments when a frantic reader bursts in, eyes darting, demanding something urgently. Emma would still take her time, finding the title, filling out the slip, never letting impatience show.

Shes loved reading since she was a kid, so choosing this career was never even a question books are her element. Shes read a heap, feels right at home among the spines, and knows her way around every genre.

While her friends were dashing off to dates, juggling jobs, having babies, moving house, squabbling and making up, Emma simply drifted along, steady and quiet.

Shes got that soft, calm voice, a habit of readjusting her glasses when somethings off, warm gray eyes, light hair always tied in a neat bun at the nape, and she dresses tidy and proper.

Emma was twentyseven, just a couple of days after her birthday, when a handsome young man in spectacles walked into the library. She gave him a quick glance and thought, What a pleasant fellow, probably around thirty. She realized shed never really paid much attention to the men who came in before, but this one caught her eye.

Good afternoon, the newcomer said politely.

Good afternoon, Emma replied in kind.

Im looking for a book, he paused, as if hunting for the authors name, then said confidently, Do you have it? I hope you do, while gesturing at the impressive rows and pushing his glasses up.

Just a moment, sir, its on the top shelf, Emma said, heading toward the stacks. He glanced around the reading room while she fetched it.

The man was Thomas Reed, a shy engineer in the citys planning department, the sort who pores over old blueprints and drafts new ones. When Emma returned with the volume, Thomas gave a warm, grateful smile.

Emma sat down at the desk to fill out the loan card and saw his name Thomas. He signed, but held the book awkwardly, looking indecisive.

Thank you, he mumbled, realizing he hadnt said it properly.

Youre welcome, she answered.

Something shifted in that quiet hall. They stared at each other, both a little stunned, neither moving. Time seemed to stretch, and eventually Emma broke the silence.

Thomas, do you need anything else?

Um I mean no he stammered, then gathered himself. You know my name, but could you tell me yours, if you dont mind?

Emma, she said modestly.

Emma such a lovely name, very English, he mused, then fell silent. He could tell she was a bit like him gentle and a little shy.

Thanks, Thomas said again, Ill take good care of the book. Bye.

Take care, goodbye, Emma replied, smiling.

She could tell hed return it safely; his neat suit, polished shoes, crisp shirt and tie all spoke of someone who respects his belongings. Thomas left, and Emma found herself thinking, Were almost kindred spirits I get him, I feel him Then she laughed at herself. What am I doing? I never pay this much attention to library visitors.

Thomas walked out feeling a bit dazed. What a charming Emma, she belongs right here among the books. And that look I couldnt even muster a proper compliment my words just tangled up. He chastised himself. Why am I so shy? My modesty is only getting in my way now. I cant stop thinking about her.

Back at his desk after lunch, Thomas struggled to focus on his drawings. Emmas face kept popping up in his mind. What is this obsession? he wondered, trying to distract himself with schematics.

The next day, during his lunch break, he slipped back into the library under the excuse of borrowing another book. Good afternoon, Emma, she said, lifting her eyes, surprised by the sparkle in his gaze.

Good afternoon, she replied with a friendly grin, need another book?

Thomas blushed, hesitated, then said, Honestly, I came here just to see you. Ive realized I like you a lot Im sorry if thats forward.

Emmas eyes lit up, her cheeks flushed. Why apologise? I liked you yesterday too I barely slept that night thinking about it.

He chuckled, Me too. I didnt close my eyes all night.

An awkward pause settled, both quiet. Emma waited for him to speak, he seemed stuck, then finally said, Emma, may I walk you home after work?

Yes, she answered shyly, with a small smile.

From then on their meetings turned into gentle walks through the park, where Thomas would animatedly share his love for architecture and Emma would talk about the books she treasured. You know, Emma, books are like people each has its own soul, Thomas would say, and she never minded his analogies. She spent her days surrounded by stories, and he loved hearing her passion.

When autumns chill set in, theyd spend hours sipping tea in Emmas cosy kitchen, often just looking at each other in comfortable silence, both thinking, Its nice to be together even without words.

They talked about dreams and joys. Emma always longed to visit Venice, having read so much about it, and Thomas imagined them gliding together in a gondola down narrow canals.

One weekend, Thomas showed up at Emmas cottage with a bouquet of red roses. These are for you, love. Lets get married, shall we? he asked, hopeful.

Absolutely, she replied, bright and delighted.

They kept the wedding simple not because they wanted to avoid fuss, but because there was nowhere to rush. Their lives moved at an easy pace, filled with happiness that theyd found each other. The only shadow was that, after many years, they never had children.

They didnt despair. Instead they adopted a black cat from the local shelter, named Milo, bought a small country house, and settled into a rhythm of work, gardening, evening reads, tea, and Milos soft purrs. On the cottage grounds Thomas built birdhouses, Emma knitted socks, and tended flower beds. Neighbours would sometimes whisper, Theyre so boring, same thing every day, but Emma and Thomas never felt bored. Thomas brewed coffee each morning in an old French press, pouring it into beautiful mugs, while Emma scattered crumbs for sparrows at the window. Summers were spent planting, winters listening to the fire crackle. They spoke little why waste words when everythings already understood?

Years passed, they grew old together, never hurrying to love because theyd always loved each other. Retirement meant more time at the cottage, surrounded by woods, birdsong, and mushroom foraging. Their neighbours respected their quiet, steady life.

One afternoon, Thomas returned from the shop with a lovely bottle of red wine and some fresh fruit a rare treat for them. Emma was surprised; they hardly ever drank alcohol. He fetched two glasses from the sideboard, wiped them with the kitchen towel he always used, and set them on the table.

Raising her glass, Emma smiled, To us?

No, Thomas said, pulling two plane tickets from his pocket, to Venice.

Emma froze. Theyd dreamed of that city forever, always putting it off for work, the cottage, Milos health.

But were old now, she murmured.

Were not old, just seasoned, he replied, and its time.

So they boarded the plane, laughed like teenagers as they drifted under Venetian bridges in a gondola, and strolled the narrow lanes she in a straw hat, he with a camera in hand. One evening, as the sun set over the lagoon, Thomas turned to her and said, Im so happy with you, Emma, I love you more than words can say.

And Im grateful you asked me that day, she replied, I knew how hard it was for you then thank you for making my dream real. I need nothing else but us, together forever.

They shared a joyous laugh, content that their wish had come true, and continued to live slowly, lovingly, side by side.

Thanks for listening, love. Take care and cherish those simple moments.