**Long-Awaited Happiness**
It never went well with men for Emily from her youth. At thirty-two, she was still unmarried, though she’d always dreamed of it. She longed for a child—had known for years it was time to become a mother, to pour all her love into that little one. But as luck would have it, she kept meeting married men who, of course, were in no hurry to admit it.
Sooner or later, the truth always came out, and disappointment struck again and again. Finally, she decided:
«Enough of these blokes. How many mistakes must I make? Why do I only attract married men? What’s wrong with me?»
Sitting in her kitchen with her friend Charlotte after yet another awful encounter—one that had left her in tears just hours earlier—she wiped her cheeks and muttered,
«Tell me, Charlotte, what have I done to deserve this? No, I’m done. No more men, no more flings, no more heartbreak.»
«Don’t be silly,» Charlotte soothed. «What you need is to throw yourself into something new. A fresh romance—that’ll take your mind off it.»
Emily had just come back from the shops. It was Saturday, and her fridge was nearly empty. She hadn’t had time to stock up during the week. Just then, the doorbell rang.
A furious woman stood on the doorstep.
«Emily?» she snapped.
«Yes. Who are you?»
Before she could react, the woman yanked her hair and screeched, «Who am I? I’m James’s wife, that’s who! You’ll regret this!» Then she stormed off, cursing all the way down the hall.
Emily slammed the door, praying the neighbours hadn’t heard. She stood frozen in shock—nothing like this had ever happened before. And how could it? James had sworn up and down he wasn’t married, even offered to show her his passport.
Still trembling, she called Charlotte, who lived nearby. Within minutes, her friend was at the door.
«Charlotte, what ‘fresh romance’ are you talking about? Another mess like this? Another furious wife turning up at my door? This time, she just grabbed my hair—next time, it could be worse!» She rubbed her scalp gingerly.
«Honestly, Em, I don’t know how you keep attracting married men. Here’s an idea—ask to see their passport next time. Check if they’re single.»
«Oh, brilliant,» Emily scoffed. «‘Show me your papers before we chat’—how romantic!» She rolled her eyes, and Charlotte burst out laughing.
«But Em, these days, plenty of couples don’t bother with marriage. No stamp in the passport doesn’t mean a thing. Look at me and Tom—we’ve got two kids and never signed a thing.»
«Exactly my point! You can’t tell just by looking. I’m done with the stress.»
«Fine, but then what? You want a family. You should be a mother. If you’re giving up on men, why not have a baby on your own? Doesn’t matter if the father’s married or not.»
«You know… I’ve been thinking about that,» Emily admitted.
Time passed. One evening after work, Emily ate dinner alone, as usual. She was about to wash up when the doorbell rang.
«Who could that be?» she wondered, opening the door.
A young man stood there, holding a red wallet.
«Good evening. I’m Daniel. I believe this is yours?» He held it out.
Emily eyed him skeptically but took it, flipping it open to see a photo of her mother—who lived far away—and instantly missed her.
«Yes, it’s mine. But how did you find me?»
«Your name and number—your friend’s, I think—were on a slip inside. I called, and she gave me your address.»
«Oh! Right. Charlotte suggested I keep that in there. Once, I nearly fainted on the bus—lucky she was with me. She said, ‘Just in case.’ Thank you. I hadn’t even noticed it was gone. Funny how there are still decent people out there.»
She fell quiet, staring at the wallet. Daniel turned to leave, but she suddenly blurted,
«Would you like some tea?»
«Thanks, but I’m in a rush. Maybe another time? Goodnight.»
As she shut the door, she thought, «Probably off to his wife.»
Three days later, the bell rang again. She opened it to find Daniel on the step, holding flowers.
«Hello again. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. Fancy a walk?»
Emily hesitated. She’d sworn off men. But Daniel was handsome, and she’d liked him instantly. Then she asked bluntly,
«Daniel—are you married?»
«No. Never have been.»
«Alright then. I’ll come.»
After that night, they met often. Emily gushed to Charlotte, who was thrilled.
«See? I told you! Thank goodness—I’m so happy for you!»
But a week later, Emily spotted Daniel outside the supermarket, loaded with bags. A pretty woman walked beside him, holding the hand of a boy about five. They climbed into Daniel’s car and drove off.
«Charlotte… Daniel’s married,» she whispered into the phone. «That’s it. I’m joining a convent.»
«Are you sure?»
«Positive. He lied. Saw him with his wife and kid. The bastard.»
The next day, Daniel showed up as if nothing had happened.
«Why are you here? You lied! Said you weren’t married. Get out—I never want to see you again!»
Baffled, he listened as she described the scene outside the supermarket.
«Em, that was my sister, Claire. The boy’s her son, Oliver,» he insisted.
«Stop lying.»
«Fine—I’ll call her right now.»
To Emily’s shock, Claire was indeed the woman she’d seen. Daniel introduced them, and soon, the three took Oliver to the park often. Emily grew fond of the bright-eyed little boy. He was five but hadn’t spoken yet, though the doctor assured them he’d talk in time.
Emily began to feel like part of Daniel’s family. Claire was warm and kind, always welcoming. She dreamed of Daniel proposing—but he stayed silent, though he often spoke of wanting a real family.
One Sunday, they took Oliver to the park.
«He wants rides and ice cream,» Daniel said, and Emily happily agreed.
A warm August breeze rustled the dry leaves underfoot as they strolled. Oliver darted ahead toward the swings.
«Oliver, stop!» Daniel shouted, sprinting after him. Emily followed. The boy halted just in time—the swings were flying wildly. Daniel grabbed him, clutching him close.
«Oliver, my boy,» he murmured, shaken.
«Dad,» Oliver whispered. Then, louder, «Dad!»
«Em, did you hear? He spoke!»
«I heard. But… you’re his father?»
Daniel held the boy tighter. «Yes, Em. I am.»
Emily paled. «So you *did* lie. Used your sister as cover. And where’s his mother?» She turned to leave.
«Wait! She’s gone. Died three years ago—an accident. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Not every woman wants a man with a child. But you and Oliver… I thought, maybe you could be his mum. Em, will you marry me?»
Emily reeled. Joy, anger, joy again—it all crashed over her. Daniel watched, hopeful. Oliver stared up, waiting.
«Well, Em?»
«Yes,» she whispered. «Yes.»
Arm in arm, the three walked through the empty park, Oliver proudly holding their hands, autumn leaves crunching underfoot.
*Sometimes, happiness finds you when you least expect it—and in ways you’d never imagine.*
