Emily knew every secret, because she wasnt twenty any moreshed already passed thirty, after all.
She was exhausted from carrying the weight of solitude, dragging that invisible cart through the grey streets of Manchester.
Lucy, why am I like this? Whats wrong with me? Am I a bore? Do I smell? Am I clingy? Or perhaps Im simply not giving enough love and tenderness, she muttered to herself, her voice cracking. Everyonetall, short, skinny, stout, drunk, beautiful, plainhas someone. Everyoneexcept me.
Listen, Emdont laugh, but my gran once told me theres a thingshe called it the maidens wreath, a curse of perpetual singleness, Lucy said, sliding off the kitchen chair.
Emily snorted. What, are we living in the Middle Ages?
Lucy leaned forward, eyes bright. You dont believe? My thirdcousins aunt had that very wreath taken off by the old woman.
How old woman? Emily asked, flatly, just to keep the conversation going.
Anyway, Ill ring Nina nowshes my sister, the one who helped lift the wreath. Ill get the whole story.
After a few hurried scribbles on a napkin, Lucy pressed the phone to her ear. Hey, Nina, love, whats the news? Getting married again? What about Gary? Oh, you kicked him out? Right, Ill be there She hung up, a silence hanging between them.
Whats happening? Emily asked.
Lucy sighed. Nothingwell, actuallymy sisters tying the knot again. Fifth time now. The old woman mustve finally lifted that curse. Heres the address. Can you go?
Emily shrugged, then set off. The old woman, her hair a tangled mess of silver, turned Emily away at the gate. You dont have a wreath, she rasped.
Of course I do
What? You kept courting the wrong men? The first one deserted you with his child, promising love while already married.
Emilys heart thudded. I didnt know
The second wasnt any better.
Emily cracked a weak smile. And the third?
The third, too, was a fool.
The third? I have no one.
The old womans eyes softened. That will changewhen you stop looking for him. He will appear, but not whole. Hell be a man, yet incomplete. Trust him; hell be steady. Youll find a happiness that feels oldfashioned. Perhaps youll even have him entirely, if you wait, if you dont rush.
She handed Emily a bundle of dried herbs. Give these to your friend; tell her the doctor will help her, and that the old woman asked me to pass it on.
The conversation had taken place years before, when a desperate Emily finally sought the wise womans counsel. Everything the old woman said came true.
The third man she met was kind, caring for her daughter as if she were his own, yet something always made him vanish, a sudden, silent departure that left Emily bewildered.
Then she met Yuri. At first she didnt recognise him; the neighbours flat above her had been empty for ages. When Emily moved in with her little girl, the buildings caretaker, Aunt Kate, mentioned the owner roamed the hallways at odd hours, staying with his mother. One evening Emily, driven by curiosity, peered through the ajar door and saw a man hanging wallpaper. She slipped away, thinking the owner had simply returned.
Their first real encounter came a week later in the cramped corridor where two doors could not be opened simultaneously. Emily, hurrying to work, tried the wrong door and got stuck. The neighbour apologized, closed his flat, and the swift, light footfalls vanished. The next day Emily blocked his exit, and they finally met on the common stairwell, where he let her pass first.
Yuri helped a neighbour lift a bicycle. Emily baked scones and delivered them to him. Later, in the park, Yuris son, about the same age as Emilys daughter, joined them on the swings; the children laughed, and Emily and Yuri talked freely.
Six months on, Yuri asked Emily out, introduced her to his family, and they moved in together. Before that, he laid his heart bare:
Emily, Im not a twentyyearold lad or a brute. Im a man with my own views and temperament. I promise that if you live with me, I wont be unfaithful. Ill do the work, earn a living, I dont drink or smoke, I have no bad habits. Ill respect you, cherish you Im sorry, I cant love you the way you deservemy past loves have left scars. Im not a stone, but I do feel for you, just not the way you might wish.
Emily stared at him, the weight of his confession pressing down.
Do you think I should have spoken to her? she whispered, voice trembling.
Yuris eyes darkened. I tried to explain, to make her see that we belong together, that I love you more than life itself. She told me shed always been a friend, like a sister, never a lover. I asked why Id left Inna she said she was fine, beautiful, clever, and I didnt love her. I realized I could never live with someone I didnt love, yet I forced her to stay.
His words fell like rain.
Then I married, he said, almost ashamed. Ive lived like everyone else, but when I think of the woman I truly love, love feels like a curse rather than a gift. I feel broken, unable to give happiness to a woman.
He looked at Emily, pleading. Think about it, Emily. Can you live without fierce passion? My wife couldnt.
Emily took a week to consider. When she finally met Yuris large, boisterous family, they welcomed both her and her daughter with open arms. She feared they would see her as a replacement, a pity case, but the warmth was genuine.
She never regretted marrying Yuri. He was steady, solving her problems, and she learned to set aside thoughts of wild romance. Occasionally, a fleeting glance would catch her eyeperhaps a memory of a past love, perhaps nothing. It never shattered their life together.
One afternoon, as Yuri washed the windows, the spring sun beating down, she sang softly while scrubbing the glass. He entered the room, admiring her, feeling a rare, liberating freedom.
What’s up, love? Something on your mind?
Justeverything feels right, Yuri said, spinning her gently around the kitchen, his voice light.
He kissed her, finally understanding how deep his love truly was.
Emily watched them, a smile forming. The old womans words echoed in her mind: just wait.
Good morning, dear ones, she thought, May love find its way through your windows, and if it has, cherish it.
She sent out a silent prayer, a beam of hope, and felt the warmth of a love finally settled.
