**If Fate Wills Us to Be Together**
Emily and her husband, James, returned from the funeral weary and heartsick. They had just laid Jamess mother, Margaret, to rest beside his father.
“At least shes at peace now, next to Dad,” James murmured, his voice thick with grief. “She kept asking for that while she was unwell.”
“Of course,” Emily replied softly. She knew there had never been another optiononly this quiet churchyard. “It was a cruel illness, relentless to the end.”
The evening stretched on, heavy with silence. Emily retreated into her thoughts, drifting back to her own pastespecially the years before marriage. There had been little joy in them. She had lost both parents young, in a fire at her grandmothers house after her grandfathers funeral. That night, the old cottage burned to the ground. No one inside escaped.
Only Emily and her older brother, Thomas, had stayed behindtoo young to attend the funeral. By morning, they were orphans. The villagers whispered that Granddad William had taken his wife, their parents, with him into the afterlife.
Thomas was seventeen, Emily just thirteen. They clung to each other in the empty house. He worked odd jobs to keep them fed; she studied when she could. Fate had dealt her a harsh hand. Even now, she sometimes wondered how she had survived it all.
Their village was smallbarely forty houses. The school only went to Year Four, so from Year Five onward, students walked three miles to the neighbouring village. In winter, they could cut across the frozen river to save time. Years ago, old Mr. Perkins used to ferry the children in his horse-drawn cart every Monday and fetch them on Saturdays. The older ones boarded during the week.
But not all the children wanted to stay. The older boys, led by Michael, the head farmers son, would often sneak back home on foot.
“Anyone heading back today, meet by the benches after lessons,” Michael would say. “Three miles isnt far if we go together.”
The lads were at that age where girls became more interesting. Notes passed under desks, evening walks, weekends at the village hall for dances. By Monday, everyone knew who had walked home with whom.
Emily had been one of those girlsquiet, beautiful, with an angelic face that drew stares from boys her age and older. A single glance from her could unsettle a lad for days. Her voice lingered in their ears like a melody.
She was kind, clever, and gracefulrare qualities in one person. Her only flaw, in the villagers’ eyes, was her orphaned status. She lived with Thomas, now married to a local girl, Sarah, with a son of their own.
Sarah resented her. No matter how Emily tried to please herscrubbing floors, tending the gardenthe tension never eased.
“Ill leave after school,” Emily often thought. “Train as a cook in town. Sarah will never accept me here.”
She never complained to Thomas. It was his family now, and she refused to come between them.
The boys treated her with respect, never speaking a harsh word. They all hoped, secretly, that she might one day choose one of them. But Emily was cautious, keeping them at arms length.
Then, one day, the whispers started: Michaelthe head farmers sonand Emily were courting. They walked home hand in hand. Michael, tall and broad-shouldered, looked more like a man than a schoolboy. He matched her in wit and gentleness.
The village women murmured, “Such a fine pair. A wedding soon, mark my words.”
But not everyone approved.
Michaels father, John, was the wealthiest man in the villagefirst to own a car, first to have a motorbike. When he heard of his sons attachment to a penniless orphan, he was furious.
“Anna,” he snapped to his wife, “that girls got nothingno family, no prospects. Thomas barely scrapes by. Shes no match for our Michael.”
“I dont know, John,” Anna fretted. “Hes besotted. Out with her till all hours. And with no parents to watch over her…”
“I want him wed to a girl from good stock. The agronomists daughtersolid family, proper dowry. *Thats* the match we need.”
“But how do we make him see sense?” Anna sighed.
“Leave that to me,” John said darkly.
He tried reasoning with Michael first, pulling him aside one evening.
“Son, forget that girl. Ill find you a proper wifenot some charity case.”
“Dad, I love her,” Michael said flatly.
“Youll do as youre told,” John growled.
When that failed, he turned to Sarah.
“I hear youve an aunt up in Scotland,” he said smoothly. “Older woman, lives alone?”
Sarah frowned. “Aunt Margaret, yes. But why?”
“Send Emily there. Ill make it worth your while.”
Money talked. Soon, Thomasever obedient to his wifepacked Emily onto a train north.
Michael was shattered. He barely spoke to his parents. Anna began to regret their scheming.
Then came his conscription. He wrote stiff, formal letters home. Two years passed before he sent word: hed found a girl and would bring her back to marry.
John crowed, “See? Hes forgotten her!”
The whole village buzzed with gossip. When the taxi pulled up to the farm, everyone crowded round.
Out stepped Michaeltaller, broaderand a woman in a white dress.
The crowd gasped.
Emily.
“Meet my wife,” Michael announced, grinning.
The villagers erupted in cheers. Even John and Anna had no choice but to welcome her.
They built a happy life, raised two sons. In time, John passed, then Anna. Emily nursed her with kindness, holding no grudges.
Now, in the quiet house, Emily and James sat with their grief.
Life, as ever, moved on.
