“My goodness, look at you!” he shouted, after that heated row, glancing at his motherinlaw and walking away And a year later, when they met again, something hit him right in the chest.
Emily walked into the house, lugged those heavy grocery bags into the kitchen, and heard a familiar clack coming from the bedroom. She didn’t need a crystal ball to realise James was glued to his computer again.
“Another tank game?” she muttered, spotting the same screenshot on his laptop.
“Yeah, just leave me be,” he mumbled without even taking his eyes off the screen.
Emily, wiped out after a long shift at the warehouse, started unpacking the shopping. Her head was throbbing; all she wanted was to flop on the sofa and forget everything. James peeked into the kitchen, rubbed his belly and asked, “You feeding me, or what?”
“Sure, but later. First Ive got to cook it,” she replied, trying to hide her fatigue. “By the way, Mum called. Saturday’s a family gettogether. Dont forget a present,” he added, heading back to his room, a bite of salami still in his mouth.
Emily let out a heavy sigh. The thought of meeting his mother again made her stomach drop. From day one, Mrs. Clarke had been icy, always finding something to nitpick and treating Emily as if she werent good enough for her son. Emily had tried to win her over once, only to realise it was a lost cause. Now they only saw each other on special occasions.
While the kettle whistled, Emily stepped out to check the garden. She kept chickens, geese and a few rabbits all on her own. James never helped with the farm, but he devoured everything that came out of the oven. She did it all for him.
When she got back, she found James with a blissful grin, polishing off the last pork chop. “That’s why I love you, Em! You’re an amazing housewife!” he shouted with his mouth full.
She laughed, made herself a sandwich, brewed a cup of tea and sat opposite him. “James, I really want a baby. Weve been together five years and you still arent ready. Why?” she asked.
“A baby? Em, we can barely scrape together enough money. Im out of work, you do everything. What baby?” he snapped.
Talk about children had become more frequent. Emily had always dreamed of motherhood, but James kept dodging the subject. “Youre looking for a job, right? Once you find one, everything will sort itself out. Just start,” she said, hoping.
“I want to live, not just get by!” he growled and stalked out of the room.
Emily held herself together, but she broke down in the bedroom later. The next morning she had to be up at the crack of dawnher shift started earlywhile James stayed up gaming till the early hours. She barely slept, replaying their marriage in her mind. She loved James, sure, but lately she felt he was leaning on her feelings and dumping all the worries onto her. Hed become passive, yet she clung to the hope that a steady job and a baby would fix everything, even as reality kept pulling the rug out from under her.
When the alarm went off, she saw James dozing in his armchair. She slipped a blanket over him and headed out to work.
The whole Friday she spent hunting for a present for Mrs. Clarke. She knew shed probably never please her, but she didnt want to show up emptyhanded. Saturday arrived, and as soon as they stepped into the house, Emily felt Mrs. Clarkes cold stare. It was clear she wasnt wanted, and Emily would have rather stayed home, but James insisted they stay.
At the gathering, Jamess sister arrived with her husband and little girl. Emily spent the evening hovering around the child, never being invited to sit at the table, never getting a word of attention. She went to fetch a glass of water, drifted into the kitchen and overheard a conversation.
“Son, whyd you pick her? I told you she wasnt the right sortjust a country girl. Dont even think about having kids with her!”
“Come off it. Shes fine Im bored of her. There are plenty of pretty girls, but she just goes along with everything. As soon as I land a proper job, Ill find a replacement,” James said.
Emily froze. Her motherinlaws words werent a surprise, but hearing James talk about her like that broke her heart. Without a word she slipped out into the hallway, grabbed her coat and left, tears streaming down her face. She wandered until she ran into a familiar face.
“Are you alright?” a voice asked.
She looked up to see Peter, an old friend of Jamess, standing there. He invited her to a nearby café for tea and a chat. Emily agreed.
Over steaming mugs in the cosy little shop, they talked about life. Peter confessed hed never been able to forget her. Emily remembered the day shed chosen James over him. Peter told her hed moved to Manchester, started his own business, and had only just returned because his mother fell ill. Seeing Emily again felt like fate playing a cruel trick.
He drove her home; the windows were still lit. As she stepped inside, she heard Jamess voice, Where have you been? Why did you leave without saying goodbye?
She turned to him, eyes wet, and said, Goodbye to who? To the ones who look down on me? To you, who talks behind my back? Youre right, James. I dont want a child with a man who treats me like a farmhand. I tried for you, and it wasnt enough. She walked into another bedroom and collapsed onto the bed.
Later that night, during her night shift at the warehouse, a colleague burst in, panicked: Your house is on fire! Emily sprinted out, flames visible from the road, people shouting for the fire brigade. She didnt see James; she plunged into the blaze. The last thing she remembered was a burning beam hitting her.
She woke up in hospital, her whole body sore, her face bandaged. Fear clenched her heart. A hand brushed her wristJames, looking gaunt.
Youre alive she whispered.
Why would I be dead? Im still young. But you that scar How am I supposed to kiss you? Gross! Anyway, get well, he muttered and left.
Tears soaked into the bandages. A few days later he returned, whispered a few words and vanished. Emily saw from the window him meeting another woman, hugging her and walking away. It hurt, but she no longer expected anything else.
The surgeon later said the scar could be removed; modern plastic surgery could work wonders. He added that a single person had saved her life. In the intensive care unit, Emily spotted Peter again. Hed pulled her from the fire, though hed suffered serious injuries himself. Since then she visited him every day. When he finally recovered, he admitted hed long wanted to see her, but was too scared, yet hed risked his life to save her.
One afternoon in the park, Emily was pushing a stroller with her little girl when she heard a familiar voice. James stood there, thin and dazed.
How are you? he asked.
Great, just out for a walk with my daughter, she replied, noticing Peter approaching with an icecream.
Wheres your scar? James wondered.
Love works miracles, Emily said, smiling, and gave Peter a hug. They walked off together, leaving James watching them from a distance.
