April 12
Tonight, over dinner, I dropped a bomb on Mum. She nearly choked on her tea when I told her the impossible. Emily, have you lost your senses? The wedding dress is already sewn, the rings are set, the venue booked James is waiting for the day like a kid waiting for fireworks. Surely youre joking, she pleaded, her voice trembling.
No, Mum, Im dead serious. Thomas and I are leaving for London soon, I said, the words landing like stones.
Mums eyes widened. London? Thats a foreign world, full of strangers and unknown streets. Youll be penniless there! Stay home, love! That Thomas fellow is a traphe must be married, with a brood of children, perhaps already retired! James loves you dearly; hes practically family to us. Dont break his heart. Youll have to answer for this, she warned, her hands clasped around her cup.
I met her stare with a stubborn calm. Ill face whatever comes, I replied, my voice steady.
Two weeks later Thomas and I were on a train bound for England. Since I was a child Id daydreamed about glimpsing life beyond our village, learning French by heart and mastering English. Id even begun Spanish, just in case fate tossed me elsewhere. After university I worked as a translator for a travel agency, where I first met Thomas. He was a client who needed an escort to several events, and from the start he took a liking to me.
I was easygoing, smiled often, and though not a great beauty, I carried the freshness of youth. At twentythree, I was the picture of innocence, while Thomas was fortysix, a seasoned gentleman. At first I brushed off his attentions, never expecting a proposal after only a week of acquaintance. I kept silent about my impending marriage to James.
Confusion swirled inside me. Marrying a foreigner isnt a chance offered to every girl, and I couldnt let it slip away. Perhaps love for Thomas was absent, but a new lifefull of novelty and adventurebeckoned. I told myself I would be eternally grateful to a foreign husband, and that James would eventually move on; after all, he was still a young lad with his own future ahead.
I called James to explain the situation. He, bewildered by the turn of events, still wished me happiness and then slipped into a long, sorrowful drinking spell.
Landing in London, my heart raced with disbelief. Is this really happening? I thought, as if I could hug the whole world. Thomas ushered me into a grand house where his family awaited: two adult sons, Harry and Evan. (Later I would learn that I was destined to become Evans wife.) Soon after, Thomass exwife, Margaret, emerged from a bedroomstunning, impeccably groomed, and fuming.
Youve lost your mind, Tom? Who is this girl? What are you bringing her here for? Is she to live with us? she shouted.
Thomas, attempting a conciliatory tone, replied, Shell be staying here. This is my home, and Emily will be my wife. Dont trouble her, Margaret.
The tension unsettled me. It turned out that, despite their separation, the whole family still lived under one roof, with Margaret clearly holding the reins. Yet in my mind a different figure began to take shape: not James in his drunken apologies, but Evanpure, timeless love.
Evan, twentyfour and strikingly handsome, bore a resemblance to his mother. The moment he saw me, an invisible current sparked between us, a yearning to plunge together into a deep, uncharted passion.
Thomas later told me that the wedding would have to be postponed, giving no reason. I acquiesced without protest; I had no intention of returning home. They assigned me a cozy room in the house, and a gentle, innocent bond formed between Thomas and me. Margaret ignored me completely, treating me as if I were invisible.
Three months passed, and I grew closer to Evan, learning the tangled dynamics of the family. Thomas, it seemed, still loved Margaret, and their mutual affection had led to a bitter breakup after years together. Thomas, perhaps to provoke Margaret, hinted at a new marriageusing me as the perfect standin.
When the exspouses reconciled, I was escorted to the airport with a ticket back home. Evans confession left me laughing hysterically.
So this is itIm a rentabride! I once fled from a fiancé. What now, Evan?
I cant live without you, he declared, rushing toward me.
I feel the same, I sighed with relief. I never thought youd have the courage.
Honestly, Id never have spoken up, thinking you were my fathers bride. I only learned of your familys games from Harry. When I finally realised you were free, I was overjoyed.
Would you ever marry my father? he asked, halfteasing.
Oh, Evan! I laughed, recalling how my plans changed the moment I first saw you. Id refuse your father in a heartbeat.
We embraced, feeling as close as siblings. I forgave Thomas and his tumultuous past with Margaretlove makes us do strange things, after all. In this tangled saga, the bright spot was meeting Evan, a gift from destiny across the sea.
Soon after, Evan and I married. He, fearing I might return to my homeland, hurried to start a family. Our son arrived first, followed two years later by a daughter. Evan showered me with constant care; our home brimmed with happiness and love.
Meanwhile, Thomas and Margaret eventually patched things up, realizing that every grudge has its expiry. They now look after their grandchildren with tenderness.
A few weeks ago, Mum wrote a worried letter begging me to visit. I prepared for the journey, leaving the children with my grandmother, Margaret, reasoning they were too young for such a trip.
The train ride home felt heavy. Mum met me at the station, tears streaming down her cheeks, and launched into a frantic outburst:
Emily! James met a tragic endhe crashed his motorbike and left his little girl an orphan. Shes only three, and now youre to adopt her? He had a pet octopus or something, a sad little creature He wanted to give you a gift before he died, but never got the chance. He helped us around the house, always drunk, stumbling through life. Youre off in England
I listened calmly, my thoughts gathering. After a pause I said, Mum, well adopt his daughter. Shell be called Polly, a bright little thing. Evan will support us. I understand we must answer for everything, Mum.
She sniffed, then asked, Now, could you get me something to eat? Im famished. A crisp apple or a pickled cucumber would do. Expecting a mother to feed two at once, you know?
I smiled, feeling the weight of the day lift a little, and whispered back, One step at a time, Mum. Well manage.
