The Angel Named Andrew
Emily was already dressed when James stepped into the office.
“Are you alone?” he asked, moving closer.
“Yes.”
“Ill stop by tonight. I have good news for you,” James murmured, his voice low. Just as he reached to embrace her, footsteps echoed outside the door. He jerked back, retreating to the doorway.
“See you tonight,” he said, slipping out.
Waiting by the lift, Emily still hoped James would join herthat shed have time to ask about his news. Had he finally decided to leave his wife? What if he stayed the night? Shed need to prepare dinner. If only shed remembered to take the meat out of the freezer this morningit wouldve thawed by now. At least shed bought wine yesterday.
Her foot tapped impatiently as she hurried home, eager to have everything ready. The lift finally arrived.
Inside her flat, Emily immediately tossed the frozen beef into the microwave to defrost. Then she changed, scanning the room. Clean enough.
When theyd first started seeing each other, James had complained that his wife didnt workspent her days shopping and at the gym, yet still couldnt manage dinner. Emily had taken note. She always made sure the flat was spotless and a meal was waiting. He never ate muchjust a bite, if thatand most of it ended up in the bin. He came twice a week, dropping their son at football practice. They had an hour. She never cried, never demanded more. The perfect mistress.
Her older sister had dated a married man for years. He never left his wife. When she finally ended it, he died of a heart attack. Emily had sworn shed never make the same mistake. But life had other plans.
Before James, shed dated a man for four years. No proposal. Then, one evening, she spotted him in a café with another woman. By the time he came home, his suitcase was packed and waiting by the door.
She cried all night, later regretting her haste. Months passed. She tried dating others, but none compared. Daniel used to drive her to work; now she wasted hours on the bus. Eventually, she quit, finding a job just two stops away.
On her first day, the deputy managera handsome man who vaguely resembled that actor from that crime dramanoticed her immediately. A colleague warned her: married, with a son. Emily was disappointed. She liked James. The kind of man women dreamed of. So she resolved to keep things professional.
At the office Christmas party, she left early. The pavements were slick with ice. In a dark alley, she nearly slippeduntil a hand steadied her. James had followed. He walked her home but didnt push for coffee. Maybe that won her over. Maybe it was just time to fall again.
Soon, she found flowers, chocolates, or cards on her desk each morning. Who could resist?
A month later, they slept together. She told herself it was just sex. Since when did the heart listen?
Twice a week, for an hourexactly the length of his sons football training. The scheduled affection wore thin. She decided to end it. But James sensed it, preempting her: he was leaving his wife. Shed grown suspicious. He wanted a life with Emily. To prove it, he stayed the night. A dizzying night. She believed him because she wanted to.
Then his son fell ill. No training, no visits. She resolved not to let him backuntil he rang her bell, and she ran to open it. Walking away was beyond her.
Weeks passed. He stalled. Once, he admitted hed tried leavingbut his wife swallowed pills. Lucky hed returned in time to call an ambulance. So, nothing changed.
Emily had just finished cooking when the doorbell chimed. She checked her reflectionsatisfiedthen answered. His arms wrapped around her.
“Smells amazing,” he said.
“I made steak. Hungry?”
“Not tonight. Times short.” He pulled her to the sofa, already dressed with fresh linens. Afterward, they lay side by side.
“You had news?” she ventured. “I I have something to tell you too.”
“Good news?” he asked.
“Not sure. You first.”
“You know Mr. Thompsons retiring?” She didnt answer. “I spoke to the director. He agreedyoull take his place. Head of the department. Arent you happy?”
“Of course,” she lied, forcing a smile. She buried her face in his shoulder to hide the tears. Shed hoped
“Shame youll be on another floor, but less gossip this way. I can barely control myself when I see you at work.” He leaned in, but she pulled back. “What did you want to say?”
“Sure you wont eat?” she asked, standing.
“No. Bloody helltimes up. Need to pick up my son.”
A parting kiss, and he was gone. She locked the door, stowed the untouched steak and wine in the fridge, then finally let herself cry.
Sleep wouldnt come. Staring at the ceiling, she knew it had to end. The last thing she needed was his wife showing up. Tomorrow, shed tell him
Tomorrow was Saturday. She had until Monday. She hadnt shared her real newsmaybe that would force his hand.
By evening, the rain cleared. Emily wandered to the shops. Two stops away, she lingered in the aisles, buying tea and biscuits. Only one till was open, a short queue forming.
An elderly woman finished. Next was a boyno sweets or crisps, just pasta, cucumbers, bread, and butter.
“Wheres your mum? You got money?” the woman behind him asked. The cashier eyed him skeptically.
“Just scan it. Kids helping outgive him a break,” a man grumbled.
“Teens keep stealing,” the cashier muttered.
“Ive got money,” the boy insisted, digging into his pocket.
Emily stepped forward. “Almost forgot.” She placed her items beside his.
“Together?” the cashier asked.
“Obviously. Right, love?” She rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Didnt say you were with your mum,” the cashier chided, scanning.
Outside, the boy turned. “Thanks. Got a bag? Ill give you your things backand your money.”
“Keep them. Why are you shopping alone? How old are you?”
“Nine,” he said without blinking. He looked barely seven.
“You live nearby? Let me walk you. Isnt your mum worried?”
“She cant walk. Got hit by a car.”
“Oh God. Your dad?”
“Left when he found out shed never walk again.”
“Is there no treatment? What do the doctors say?”
“Dunno.” He shrugged.”I just shop, clean, hang laundry. Mum does the restcooking, dishes.”
“Youre so young.” Her eyes stung.
“Not little. You got kids?”
“No,” she sighed. “But Id want a son like you. Whats your name?”
“Andrew.”
“If I ever have a boy, Ill name him Andrew.”
“You pregnant?”
The bluntness startled her, but she didnt lie. “Yes. But his fathers married. Already has a son.”
“Im not a kid. Thats my building.”
“Need any help? Money?”
“Mum gets benefits. Dad pays. Were okay.”
“Go on, then. Shell be waiting.”
He dashed off but turned halfway. “Itll be alright!” he called.
Gone before she could reply. Walking home, her chest felt lighter. If a child could shoulder so much, so could she. If something happened to herwhod be there? No. Shed keep the baby, whatever James decided.
Shed take the promotion. More moneyshed need it. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she wondered: boy or girl?
Andrews face flashed in her mind. *I should find out about his mums condition. Raise funds if she needs surgery. And buy him a proper coatthat ones too small. Tomorrow, Ill ask the neighbours*
Children grow up fast when life forces them. What if shed made a mistake? James would never leave.
Some encounters change everythingsteer us from the edge. Like angels. They say if you want to touch an angel, hug a child.
*Itll be alright,* hed said.
It would be.
