Emma was in a rush. She was always latewhether it was for work, meeting friends, or even a date. Today she could not afford any delay: in two hours she had an interview with a highly regarded firm in the City, and if she fluffed it she would be out of work for at least six months, because no other serious offers were on the table.
The bus pulled up to the stop just as she burst out of the flat, breathless. She sprinted forward, but tripped over the curb and went sprawling right in front of the doors. The driver, without pausing, shut the doors and drove off.
Bloody hell! she snapped, feeling the sting in her knee and the scratches on her palms.
Do you need a hand? a man leaned over her.
Emma lifted her eyes and saw warm brown eyes, dark hair, and a faint smile.
Thanks, but its too late for that, she muttered as she got to her feet. The bus has gone and the next one isnt due for another twenty minutes.
Where are you off to in such a hurry? he asked.
To an interview in the centre, she replied.
He glanced at his watch.
Im heading that way myself. Hop in, Ill give you a lift.
Emma hesitatedwhat if he were a stranger with bad intentions?but the clock was ticking.
Are you sure? she asked.
Absolutely. By the way, Im James, he said.
Emma, she answered.
He turned out to be no threat. The car smelled of freshly brewed coffee and a hint of cedar. A soft jazz tune drifted from the radio.
Do you often pick up strangers on the street? Emma asked, trying to break the tension.
Only those who fall right in front of me, James replied, his tone serious, though a twinkle sparked in the corners of his eyes.
They arrived ten minutes before the scheduled interview time. Emma jumped out of the car without even asking for his numberjust in case it might be useful later.
Thanks! she called as she hurried away.
Good luck! he shouted back.
The interview went surprisingly well. Emma left the office lighthearted and smiling, and almost immediately ran into James again. He stood at the entrance, holding two takeaway coffee cups.
How did it go? he asked.
Great! But what are you doing here?
Waiting.
Why?
To hear the result and, if you have time, suggest we celebrate over a coffee. After all, theres a reason to celebrate.
Emma laughed.
There is a reason. Ive got plenty of free time at the moment. They offered me the job, but I wont start for a month.
Even better! Lets toast to that.
They spent three hours in a cosy café, chatting about books, travel, and the silly mishaps that peppered their lives. James turned out to be a project designer who loved classic films and could not stand olives. Emma spoke of her passion for painting and of a childhood dream to be a ballerina, which she abandoned after breaking a leg while jumping over puddles.
So falling is your weak spot, James noted.
And yours? Emma asked.
Rescuing the fallen, he grinned.
They kept meeting every day for the next monthsometimes strolling through parks, sometimes driving out to the countryside, once even dashing for shelter under his car as a sudden downpour drenched them both.
I told you you fall too often, James joked, shaking the rain from her coat.
And youre always there to lift me up, she replied.
On Emmas first day at the new office, James waited outside with a bouquet of peonies.
Whats this for? she wondered.
Just because, he said with a smile.
Six months later, on the very bus stop where they had first collided, James confessed his love.
Remember how you fell? he asked.
How could I forget?
Since that moment Ive never truly gotten up. You knocked me flat.
Emma chuckled, her eyes shining.
Thats the strangest way to say I love you, she said.
Yet its honest, he replied.
They married a year later.
When Emma was expecting their first child, James once again drove her to that same stop.
Look, he said, pointing at the pavement, theres even a scratch from your keys.
Dont be ridiculous, she laughed, bending to get a better look. Her baby bump made bending a little harder.
James lifted her gently by the elbow.
About to fall again?
Not fallingjust a different balance now.
He rested his hand on her rounded belly.
Is our passenger calm today?
Just woke up, Emma whispered, pressing his palm to the spot where the babys little kick had been felt.
James froze with a goofy smile, as he always did when he sensed those tiny movements.
Do you know what Im thinking? Emma said, wrapping her arms around his waist. If the bus hadnt left that day
I would have found you anyway, James interrupted. Maybe at the clinic, the shop, a car park, or the park where you love to read.
A hopeless romantic, she teased, poking him in the side.
A realist, he replied.
They walked slowly to the car. Emma moved cautiously, as if she were carrying a fragile vase rather than a squirming, future human.
You understand, James said suddenly, his tone serious as he opened the door for her, now Ill have to look after two.
Emma pressed his hand to his cheek.
You think you can manage?
Well try, he said, planting a kiss on the top of her head, the same gentle gesture he used whenever words felt too heavy.
A month later, as they drove home from the hospital with a wailing bundle in the back seat, Emma burst into laughter.
Look at himhes a rushhour as much as I am! He couldnt wait for his due date.
James, eyes glued to the road, slipped his hand over her fingers.
The important thing is he doesnt inherit your habit of falling.
Dont worry, Emma smiled, watching her son finally calm down. Hes got you.
And so they learned that sometimes a stumble can be the start of a lifelong partnership, reminding us that a helping hand at the right moment can turn a fall into a future worth standing for.
