An Angel Named Andrew
Emily was already dressed when James walked into the office.
“Are you alone?” he asked, stepping closer.
“Yes.”
“Ill stop by tonight. Ive got good news for you,” James murmured, lowering his voice. Just as he moved to embrace her, footsteps echoed outside the door. He instantly pulled away and retreated.
“See you this evening,” he said, slipping out of the office.
Waiting by the lift, Emily still hoped James would join her so she could ask about the news. Had he finally decided to leave his wife? What if he stayed the night? Shed need to prepare dinner. If only shed taken the meat out of the freezer this morningit wouldve thawed by now. At least shed bought a bottle of wine yesterday.
Impatient, Emily tapped her foot, eager to get home in time to cook. Finally, the lift arrived.
Once home, she immediately grabbed the meat from the freezer and tossed it into the microwave to defrost. Only then did she change, scanning the flat as she went. Spotless, as always.
When theyd first started seeing each other, James had complained about his wifehow she didnt work, yet still couldnt manage to cook dinner, too busy with shopping, salons, and the gym. Emily had taken note. She made sure the flat was immaculate and dinner ready before he arrived. James rarely ate, only picking at the food. Most of it went in the bin. He came twice a week, while dropping his son at football practice. They had an hour. Emily never cried, never complained, never asked for more. The perfect mistress.
Her older sister had dated a married man for years, but he never left his wife. When she finally ended it, he died of a heart attack. So Emily had sworn never to get involved with a married man. But as they say, never say never.
Before James, shed dated a man for four yearsuntil she spotted him in a café with another woman. She packed his things into a suitcase and left it by the door.
After he left, she cried all night, later regretting her haste. Time passed; she tried dating others, but nothing felt right. Her ex, Daniel, used to drive her to work. Now she wasted hours on the bus. Eventually, she quit and found a job just two stops away, walking instead.
At her new job, the deputy directora handsome man who vaguely resembled actor Tom Hardynoticed her immediately. A colleague warned her he was married with a son. Emily was disappointed. She liked James. He was the kind of man women dreamed of. Resolved, she kept her distance, refusing to encourage him.
She left the Christmas party early. The pavements were icy. Stumbling in a dark alley, she nearly felluntil someone steadied her. James had been following. He walked her home but didnt push for coffee.
Maybe that won her over. Or maybe it was just time to fall again. After that, shed find flowers, chocolates, or a “good morning” note on her desk. Who could resist?
A month later, they became intimate. Emily told herself it was just sexbut since when does the heart listen?
James visited twice a week, just for an hourthe length of his sons football practice. Soon, the scheduled romance wore her down. She decided to end ituntil James preempted her, announcing hed leave his wife. She was getting suspicious, he said. He wanted a life with Emily. To prove it, he stayed the night. It was dizzying. She believed him because she wanted to.
Then his son fell ill. No football, no visits. Emily resolved not to let him backuntil he rang her doorbell. She ran to open it. Walking away was beyond her.
She waited. He stalled. Once, he admitted hed tried leaving, but his wife overdosed. Luckily, hed returned in time to call an ambulance. Nothing changed.
Emily had barely finished cooking when the doorbell chimed. She checked her reflection, smoothed her hair, then opened the doorstraight into his arms.
“Something smells amazing,” he murmured.
“I made steak. Hungry?”
“No time.” Kissing her hungrily, he led her to the sofa, already draped with fresh sheets. Afterward, they lay side by side, catching their breath.
“You had news,” Emily reminded him. “I do too.”
“Good?” James asked.
“Not sure. You first.”
“You know Mr. Thompsons retiring?” Emily stayed silent. “I spoke to the director. He agreedyoull take his place. Head of the department. Arent you happy?”
“Thrilled,” she said flatly, forcing a smile. Burying her face in his shoulder, she blinked back tears. Shed hoped
“Shame youll be on another floor, but fewer rumours that way. Its getting harder to resist you at work.” He leaned in, but she dodged his kiss. “What was your news?”
“Sure you wont eat?” she asked, standing.
“Cant. Bloody helltimes up. Need to fetch my son.”
He left with a parting kiss. Emily locked the door, shoved the steak and wine into the fridge, then burst into tears.
Sleep wouldnt come. Staring at the ceiling, she knew it was time to end this. The last thing she needed was his wife showing up. Tomorrow, shed tell him
Tomorrow was Saturday. No matter. She had until Monday. She hadnt shared her real news yetmaybe that would push him to act.
By evening, the rain stopped. Emily went for a walk. Tired of being alone, she strolled two stops to the supermarket, lingering in the aisles. She bought tea and biscuits. Only one till was open, a short queue forming.
An elderly woman finished. Next was a boy. Kids usually bought sweets or crisps, but he unloaded pasta, cucumbers, bread, and butter.
“Wheres your mum? Got money?” the woman behind him asked. The cashier eyed him suspiciously.
“Hold up the queue, why dont you? Kids helping his mumgive him credit,” a man grumbled.
“Teen nicked stuff last week,” the cashier countered.
“Ive got money,” the boy said loudly, digging in his pocket.
“Just scan it,” the man sighed. “How longs this gonna take?”
The boy turnedand locked eyes with Emily. Without thinking, she stepped forward.
“Phew, caught you.” She placed her tea and biscuits beside his items.
“Together?” the cashier asked skeptically.
“Obviously. Right, son?” Emily rested a hand on his shoulder.
“You couldve said your mum was here!” the cashier huffed, scanning the items.
Paid, they stepped outside.
“Thanks. Got a bag?” he asked.
“Why?”
“For your stuff. Ill give you the money back.” He reached into his pocket again.
“Keep it. Why are you shopping alone? How old are you?”
“Nine,” he said without blinking.
Emily guessed seven but didnt press.
“You live nearby? Ill walk youits late. Whyd your mum let you go alone?”
“She cant walk. Got hit by a car,” he said quietly.
“Im sorry. Your dad?”
“Left when he found out shed never walk again.”
“Is there no treatment? What do doctors say?” Emily stopped.
“Dunno.” He shrugged.
“So you look after her?”
“Nah. Just shop, mop, hang laundry. She cooks and cleans.”
“Youre so young.” Her eyes stung.
“Im not. You got kids?”
“No,” Emily sighed. “But Id want a son like you. Whats your name?”
“Andrew.”
“Andrew If I have a boy, Ill name him Andrew.”
“You pregnant?”
Strange question from a child. Yet she couldnt lie.
“Yes. But his fathers married. Has a son already.”
“Im not a kid,” Andrew said fiercely. “Thats my house.”
“Need money? Help?” She didnt want to leave him.
“Mums got her pension. Dad pays. Were fine.”
“Go on. Shes waiting.”
He ran off but stopped halfway.
“Itll be okay!” he called.
Gone before she could reply, Emily walked home, suddenly calm. If a child could handle hardship, so could she. If something happened to her, whod be there? Noshe wouldnt end this pregnancy, whatever James decided. It didnt matter anymore.
Shed take the promotion. More moneyshed need it. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she wondered: boy or girl?
She thought of Andrew. “Ill find out his mums diagnosis. Raise money if she needs surgery. Buy him a coatthat ones too small. Tomorrow, Ill ask neighbours which flats theirs”
Kids grow up fast when lifes hard. Meeting him now felt fateful. She couldve
