**Happiness with a Hint of Sorrow**
Emily, a sweet, slightly plump girl with unruly curls framing her round face, had been infatuated with Daniel since primary school. The problem? He barely noticed her.
Daniel was the handsomest lad in schooltall, with olive skin and sharp features, already built like a man though barely seventeen. Every girl, even some teachers, sighed when he passed. He was clever too, not bookish but effortlessly bright. Rumour had it hed set his sights on Oxford or Cambridge, though he never confirmed it. Whispers also claimed hed broken more than a few hearts. Yet Emily adored him hopelessly.
By sixth form, shed slimmed down, let her blonde hair loose instead of tying it back. One day, as she walked down the corridor, Daniel stopped mid-stride, taking in her delicate frame and the cascade of golden hair tumbling over her shoulders. Her heart fluttered*hes noticed me at last!*
“Hello, Thompson,” he said, voice rough.
Emily nodded, smiled, and walked past like a queen. No matter how her pulse raced, she refused to fawn over him. She knew his admirers were legion.
From that day, Daniel lost all peace. He lingered near her, walked her home, asked her to the cinema. Emily stayed cool. Soon, the whole school noticed how he gazed at herelectric tension crackling between them.
Everything changed at the Christmas ball. He danced with her twice, then insisted on walking her home. Under the frosty stars, he confessed he loved her, couldnt sleep, couldnt think of anyone else. Melting with joy, she finally agreed to that cinema date.
Emily lived with her mother, a stern, overworked accountant whod raised her alone. Seeing her daughter bloom into beauty, she warned daily about virtue and the perils of young love.
Spring arrived, and so did reckless passion. Hidden from prying eyes, Emily and Daniel kissed until they were dizzy, aching with desire. One afternoon, when her mother was at work, they crossed a line. Afterwards, they couldnt stop.
School ended. Emily planned to study teaching locally, while Daniels parents sent him to London. Desperate not to part, he begged her to come.
“Em, well rent a flatmy parents will send money. Well be together!”
She pleaded with her mother, who refused outright. So Emily packed a suitcase, took half her mothers savings, left a note, and boarded a traindifferent carriage from Daniels family. Off she went, believing in their happy ending.
They enrolled in different universities but shared a rented flat. Emily, used to fending for herself, delighted in playing wifecooking, cleaning, building a home. When his parents called, Daniel lied, saying he lived with mates. Emily once rang her mother, only to be shouted at: “If you come home with a child, dont bother coming back.” It stung, but Daniel was all that mattered.
She trusted him when he swore precautions werent needed. But casual trysts were one thing; living together, another. Two months in, Emily realised she was pregnant.
The doctor delivered grim news: her Rh-negative blood meant termination could leave her infertile. Daniel took it stoically. “Well manage. Worst case, Ill switch to part-time and work.”
“But were not married,” she ventured.
“Who cares? Plenty dont bother. Em, weddings cost moneywe need it for the baby. Later, I promise.”
She agreed. He loved her; that was enough.
Morning sickness ravaged her. She grew thin, wan, but Daniel insisted shed never been prettier. That winter, neither went home. He lied to his parents about extra studies.
Then they arrived unannounced. His mother demanded Emily leave; his father lectured about ruined futures. When Daniel admitted the pregnancy, chaos erupted. His mother clutched her chest, screeching about abortions. Once calmer, they struck a deal: theyd keep funding himif he didnt marry her. Surely reality would break them apart.
Emily gave birth to a healthy boy, Charlie, during summer exams. Studies became impossible. She took leave, then worked evenings as a cleaner while Daniel studied. By day, he minded Charlie.
She never noticed how women still eyed himor that hed begun avoiding being seen with her. When Charlie started nursery and she returned to uni, illness forced her to switch to distance learning. After Daniel graduated, she broached marriage.
“Why fuss over a stamp? Drop it,” he snapped.
The adoring looks had vanished. She knew shed gained weight post-birth, but life left no time for diets. Then, washing his shirt, she found lipstick. A work party, he said. She bit her tonguehed stood by her when his parents attacked. That was love, wasnt it?
After acing an exam, she strolled home in the sunshine, buoyantuntil she saw Daniel arm-in-arm with a leggy blonde.
“Emily?!” he stammered when she blocked their path.
“Whos this?” The blonde eyed her frostily.
“Im his wife.”
“Wife? Youre not even married,” the girl sneered.
They walked off. Daniel muttered theyd talk later. At home, Emily sobbed. He returned at dawn, packed his things, and left. Pride kept her silent until the door shut. Then she wept into Charlies pillow.
She nearly failed her next exam. The professor, noticing her tears, listened as she spilled her troubles.
“Come home with me,” he offered. “Ive a large flattwo rooms for you and Charlie. No rent, just cook sometimes. I wont pressure you. We can even marry, if you likegive the boy a father, on paper.”
A week later, with rent due and Daniel ghosting her, she moved in with Professor Edmund Whitmore.
The flat was spacious. Charlie adored Edmund, who doted on himplaying, walking him to nursery while Emily studied. Though she caught his longing glances, he kept his word. Weekends, he showed them Londonsomething Daniel never did.
Then they bumped into Daniel.
“Even lovelier,” he murmured, ignoring Charlie. “Hes old enough to be your dad, Em. I still love you”
“Love me? You forgot me till today. Didnt even look at your son.” Her voice broke. “You left us penniless. He may not be young, but he cares. Goodbye.”
That night, she went to Edmunds room. His touch was gentle, but her heart wasnt in it. Still, she never regretted her choice. Daniel would always chase fleeting beauty; Edmund was steady.
Let the gossips talk. She had a husband, Charlie had a father. The rest? Doesnt matter.
**Lesson:** Love isnt always about fireworks. Sometimes, its the quiet hand that stays when the spark fades.
