Its been exactly eight years, two months, and seventeen days since she showed her husband the door. Not that shes been counting every dayits just that the date etched itself into her memory as the start of her real life. Their son, Ethan, had grown into an independent young man, studying at a prestigious university and rarely coming home. Just phone calls, his familiar voice on the other end, growing more distant with each passing day.
*Mum, Ive got exams, then my part-time job, and Lola and I*
Shed hear it, swallow the quiet ache, and chirp back, *Of course, love! Im absolutely fine.* And she wasnt lying. Life had meaning. It had order.
At forty-three, Emma felt thirty in her soul. Slim, bright-eyed, with a sharp gaze, she looked younger than her years. The secret? Four years of the same ritual: up at six, a jog through Hyde Park, a cold shower, a healthy breakfast, and a swift commute to the office. She worked as a manager at a bustling firm, where the directora punctuality-obsessed man with a sixth sense for tardinessloathed irresponsibility. More than once, shed seen him materialise in the hallway at 9:01 sharp, glaring at some breathless colleague.
*Late again? Explanatory note on my desk!* His voice alone could make even the innocent flinch.
At work, Emma was respectedsmart, driven, always ready to help. But in her personal life? Silence. After the divorce, she filled her days with work, self-care, and her loyal Labrador, Barney.
Barney had been her alarm clock, personal trainer, and therapist rolled into one. A chocolate-brown bundle of endless affection, he never caused troublejust wagged his tail and nudged her forward. When shed first considered getting a dog, a friends husband had told her, *Get a Labrador. Theyre companions, antidepressants, and life coaches in one.* He wasnt wrong.
Growing up, Emma had always had dogs. But during her marriage to Michael, that dream vanished. *Bring a mutt into this flat, and I swear Ill toss it off the balcony myself.* The venom in his voice convinced her he meant it.
In the end, she was the one who nearly threw *him* outafter he raised a hand to her in a drunken rage. Fifteen years of marriage, the last three a waking nightmare. The final straw was that slap. She shuddered, grateful Ethan hadnt been home.
*Good riddance. Well manage. My salarys enough. Better alone than showing my son a warped idea of love.*
And she *had* managed. Eight years of peace. No men, no chaos. Just her, her work, and Barney.
One August morning, golden light slipped through the curtains, whispering, *Get up. The worlds waiting.* Emma stretched, the lightness in her limbs a hard-earned reward. She padded to the hall, where Barney sat by the door, leash in mouth, tail drumming the floor.
*You genius. Who needs an alarm clock?*
Their park was her sanctuarya green oasis a short walk away, bustling at dawn with joggers, cyclists, and fellow dog owners. She unclipped Barneys leash, and he bolted ahead, glancing back to ensure she followed.
Thena yowl.
Emma veered off the path and froze. Barney stood rigid, hackles raised. A tiny black kitten cowered in the grass, ears flattened. Her heart lurched. Barney wouldnt hurt it, but instinct sent her forwardjust as her foot twisted on a hidden stone.
A sickening crack. White-hot pain.
She hit the ground with a gasp, vision blurring. *Oh nono no no* Her leg lay at a grotesque angle. Tears pricked her eyesfear, despair, the crushing weight of helplessness.
Then Barney was gone.
He raced down the path like a mad thing, skidding to a halt before a tall, athletic manone they saw most mornings. The dog barked, frantic.
The man frowned. *Wheres your owner? Something wrong?*
Barney spun and charged back, the man following.
The strangerOliverfound Emma crumpled by the bushes, pale and trembling. *Morning. Though Id say yours isnt going well.*
*Leg broken.* The words hissed through clenched teeth.
*Ambulance is on the way.* His calm steadied her.
At the hospital, the doctor confirmed a fracture. But when they said she couldnt bring Barney, panic spikeduntil Oliver stepped in.
*Give me his lead. Ill take him.*
She hesitated. *We barely know each other.*
*Oliver Hart. Now we do.*
And just like that, their lives tangled.
For the next week, he visited dailybringing fruit, jokes, updates on Barney, who apparently behaved impeccably but moped endlessly. The day she was discharged, he collected her, Barney exploding with joy in the backseat.
At her flat, Oliver helped her inside, then returned with groceries. *Ill be back to walk him. Call if you need anything.*
His visits became routinemorning walks, evening meals, shared laughter over old films and books. She noticed the quiet loneliness behind his confidence; he saw the steel and softness in her.
Months passed. The cast came off. On a rainy afternoon, Oliver arrived with roses and champagne.
*Its my birthday.* He winked at Barney.
*You never said! Ive got no gift!*
*You have.* He took her hands. *Marry me.*
Her breath caught. *What?*
*Were already best friends. Might as well make it official.*
Barney barked, tail thrashing. *Answer him!*
Emma looked at this manat the life he, and this dog, had given her. The walls around her heart crumbled. *Yes.*
No grand weddingjust a quiet registry office, his father whispering, *Shell never betray you. Keep her close.*
Now their home is full of laughter, warmth, and the thump of Barneys tail. Ethan visits often with his wife and their little girl, who adores her giant chocolate-coloured uncle. Sometimes Emma watches themOliver tossing the baby in the air, Barney tolerating hair ribbonsand thinks how that broken leg wasnt a tragedy.
It was the twist of fate that led her home.
