Eleanor had spent most of her twenties drifting from one fling to another, never quite fitting into the role of a proper wife. By the time she turned thirty she finally decided to look for a man who might settle down with her. She didnt know at first that Paul was already married, but the moment he realized she was falling for him he stopped pretending.
Eleanor never blamed Paul. Instead she scolded herself for letting herself care so deeply, for the weakness that tied her to a man who could never be truly hers. She felt halfbroken, as though shed missed the window for a proper match while the years slipped away.
She wasnt uglyjust plainfaced, a little round, the sort of woman whose age showed in the softness of her cheeks. Their affair went nowhere. Eleanor could not bear the idea of remaining his secret, yet she was terrified of being alone.
One rainy afternoon her cousin Simon dropped by, on a brief work trip to the city. Hed been away for months, and they met in the cramped kitchen, laughing about childhood mischief and catching up on the present. Eleanor poured out her heart, tears spilling as she described the tangled mess of her love life.
A knock at the door interrupted them. Simons neighbour, Mrs. Hartley, had stopped by to comment on her latest purchases. Eleanor stepped out for twenty minutes, leaving Simon alone. The doorbell rang again. Simon opened it, expecting Eleanor to be back, but the door was ajar and a broadshouldered man in trainers and a Tshirt, chewing a ham sandwich, stood on the thresholdPaul.
Simons eyes widened. Paul looked as confused as a rabbit caught in headlights, staring at the hulking stranger.
Is Eleanor home? Paul asked, voice cracking.
Shes in the bathroom, Simon replied, his mind racing.
Who are you to her? Paul stammered.
My husband, officially. Were not married in the eyes of the law, but we live as one, Simon said, stepping forward and gripping Pauls chest. Youre the married man Eleanor has been talking about, arent you? If I ever see you here again, Ill throw you down the stairs.
Paul squirmed free and bolted down the hallway.
Eleanor returned, cheeks damp from the shower, and Simon spilled the whole episode.
What have you done? Who sent you? she sobbed, clutching the arm of the sofa. Hell never come back.
Simon shook his head, a hard smile forming. He wont, and thats a blessing. Enough of the selfpity. I have a perfect man for you in minda widower in our village of Littleton. The women there keep their distance after their wives die, and hes still looking for someone. Ill be back after my next assignment; well go together. Trust me, its for loves sake.
Eleanors eyes widened. I cant. I dont know him. Im scared to leave everything behind.
Sleep with a stranger is the shame, not meeting a decent man, Simon replied, his tone softening. You deserve happiness, not a secret.
Two days later they were on a coach heading for Littleton. Simons wife, Lucy, had laid a spread on a table by the garden near the village bathhouse, and neighbors gathered for a modest celebration with Simons old friend, the widower Alex Turner. The villagers knew Eleanor from the few times shed visited, but this was her first encounter with Alex.
The evening passed in warm chatter. When Eleanor returned to the city, she thought of Alex as a quiet, shy fellow, perhaps still mourning his late wife. Poor soul, probably still aching for his lost love, she mused.
A week later, on a Saturday, the doorbell rang unexpectedly. Eleanor opened it to find Alex standing on the step, a bag in his hand.
May I come in, Eleanor? I was just on my way to the market and thought Id stop by. Now that were acquainted, Id like to visit, he said, his voice a little nervous.
She invited him in, offering tea, her curiosity piqued.
Did you get everything you needed? she asked.
Yes, the purchases are in the car. I brought a little something for you, Alex said, pulling out a modest bunch of tulips.
Eleanor took the flowers, and a soft glow lit her eyes. They sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea and talking about the weather and the rising prices at the market. When the tea was finished, Alex rose to leave, slowly pulling on his coat and shoes. He paused at the doorway and turned back.
If I walked out now without saying anything, Id regret it forever. Eleanor, Ive spent the whole week thinking about you. I swore Id wait for the weekend, and thats why I came. I got your address from Simon, he confessed, his hands trembling just a fraction.
Eleanors cheeks flushed, and she looked down.
We barely know each other, she whispered.
It doesnt matter, he replied, dropping the formalities. May I call you by your first name? I know Im no perfect man. I have a little daughter, eight, staying with her grandmother at the moment.
Having a child is a blessing, Eleanor said, dreaming, Ive always wanted a daughter.
Encouraged, Alex reached for her hands, drew her closer, and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. When they pulled apart, tears sparkled in Eleanors eyes.
Do you find meunpleasant? he asked, halfsmiling.
No, she answered, voice shaking, I never expected this. Its sweet, calm Im not stealing anyones love.
From that day on they met every weekend. Two months later they married in Littletons tiny chapel and settled there. Eleanor found work at the local nursery, and a year later she gave birth to a daughter, Lily. Their two girls grew up loved and cherished, the household brimming with attention and affection. As the years passed, Eleanor and Alex grew older together, their love deepening like a fine, aged wine.
At many family gatherings, Simon would wink at Eleanor and tease, Well, Gal, what a husband Ive set you up with, eh? Youre getting better and better. Im only looking out for my sister.
