**Lets Get Married**
It was a lazy Sunday, the kind where you could stay in bed a little longer. No one was around to make breakfast, and she had no plans for the day. After lingering under the covers, Eleanor finally got up, showered, and drank a cup of coffee. Now what? How could she kill time? Her friends were all married with kidstoo busy for her. Maybe visit her parents? But her mother would just start the same old lecture about how shed made a terrible mistake.
A heavy gloom settled over her. Deep down, Eleanor knew divorcing had been a mistake, but it was too late to fix things now. In truth, her ex-husband, Vincent, hadnt been so bad. He didnt drink, never cheated, and wasnt fussy about food. She couldve fed him anything, and he wouldnt have noticedhis mind was always glued to his computer.
He worked odd hours, even through the night, then slept till noon. Dragging him out of the house was a chore. Hed yawn through social gatherings, fall asleep at the cinema, and spend every outing counting the minutes until he could go home to his screen.
When he finally went to bed, it was time for Eleanor to get up for work. And when they did share a bed, he raced through intimacy like it was a sprint. Three years of marriage, and shed never gotten pregnanteven though the doctors said there was nothing wrong with either of them.
The lack of a child wasnt the only reason shed left, though. She was tired of talking to the back of his head. She saw his hunched shoulders more than his face. How could you build a life with someones back? She might as well have gotten a catfed it, cleaned up after it, and at least a cat would purr instead of grunting responses. The difference was small, but at least a cat wouldve shown more affection.
Her mother, though, insisted that being married gave her status. A divorced woman raised too many questions.
A million women would envy you. What more do you want? her grandmother had scolded.
No onenot even her friendsunderstood why shed left. Their husbands had normal jobs, slept beside them at night, and had no trouble fathering children. They argued, made up, scolded their men for drinking too much, nursed their hangovers with greasy breakfasts.
Eleanor and Vincent had known each other since school, eleven years in total. Hed always been a bookish nerd, lost in his studies. By sixth form, he was obsessed with computers. She and the other girls had laughed at the awkward, bespectacled boy. When he talked tech with his mates, it might as well have been a foreign language.
Years after graduation, they ran into each other by chance. Vincent had grown into a decent-looking bloke, swapped glasses for contacts. He was clever, interesting to listen toand Eleanor was good at listening. They started dating. Three weeks later, he proposed, blunt and unromantic.
Listen, why are we acting like teenagers? Lets get married.
Alright then, shed laughed.
Mum, hes smart, hes interesting, shed told her mother when she announced the engagement.
Do you love him? her mother had asked.
The question had thrown her. Theyd known each other for years, got on wellbut love? They never talked about love. Shed assumed proposing meant he loved her. Didnt it? Their marriage felt more like friendshipjust with shared bedsheets.
Her mother had never liked Vincent, had been shocked by the choice. But when Eleanor filed for divorce, she was furious.
Have you lost your mind? Doesnt drink, stays home, earns good moneyand you want out? Where will you find another man like that? He wasnt the worst. Shouldnt have married him if you werent serious. Spoilt, thats your problem. Shouldve had a kid, then you wouldnt be so restless. Guess your father and I wont get grandchildren now
Eleanor stayed quiet. Shed have a child in a heartbeatif only. But life was full of if onlys.
Vincent had been genuinely baffled when she asked for a divorce. He didnt argue, just packed his things and moved back with his mother. His mum had called immediately, spewing venom about Eleanors foolishness before she hung up. The divorce was quickno kids, no fight over the computer.
At first, shed felt relief. Then autumn came, and with it, loneliness. The flat felt suffocating. A long, solitary winter stretched ahead. She missed Vincentat least hed been a living, breathing person to care for. But what good did regrets do?
Her mother kept calling, trying to set her up, but Eleanor refused.
She wasnt the only divorced woman. Plenty of women moved on, found someone better. But how was she supposed to meet anyone if she never left the house?
One day, a friend signed her up for a dating site, made her pose for photos, forced a sultry smileas if Eleanor even knew what that looked like. At the time, shed treated it as a joke, a way to make Vincent jealous.
Now, curled on the sofa with her laptop, she logged in out of curiosity. So many men looking to meet someonehandsome, plain, young, older, take your pick.
She browsed the womens profiles. Each one boasted about being a perfect homemaker, sewing, cooking like a Michelin chef, owning flats, having glamorous jobsjust missing love.
Eleanor had no such talents. She couldnt sew or knit, had no interest in sports. Stumped, she finally wrote: *Good listener.*
Messages flooded in, mostly from ridiculously handsome blokes. Why were they even on here? One caught her eyelightly stubbled, intense gaze.
After an hour of lively chat, he suggested meeting.
Lets not rush, she replied cautiously.
Why wait? Better to know straight off, Daniel answered.
Probably a fake name, maybe even a fake photo. Still, his logic made sense. She agreedluckily, he lived nearby.
How about tonight? Unless youre busy. She wasnt. Great. One hour, The Rose Café. See you there.
She raced to her wardrobe, then stopped. Why dress up? Let him see her as she was. She pulled on jeans and a snug jumper that flattered her figurestill good, no childbirth to ruin it. A touch of mascara, her hair looseshe liked what she saw in the mirror.
He was waiting outside when she arrived. Recognisable from his photo. The café was quiet. They took a window table. He ordered coffee; she declined cake.
Daniel studied her openly. His gaze prickled her skin like a cold draft.
Disappointed? she asked.
No. Thought youd be older.
Prefer pensioners, do you? she shot back.
He laugheda warm, genuine sound. Most men either giggled or brayed. She liked his laugh. *Hes not bad,* she thought, dropping her eyes before he read her mind.
He talked about himselfnothing extraordinary, but the more she listened, the more she liked him. Confident without being arrogant. She kept her own story brief: her job, the divorce.
The interesting bits are yet to come, she said mysteriously.
He laughed again. Definitely liked him.
Another coffee? he asked. Or my hotel?
What?
Were grown-ups. Sooner or later, well end up in bed. Why wait?
*Hes testing me,* she realised. *Seeing how desperate I am.*
Alright, she said.
In the hotel room, he sat on the bed. She stayed standing, coat still on.
His amused glance flicked over her.
Keeping it on, are you?
Im not sure Im ready she mumbled, suddenly wanting to bolt.
Why come, then? No irritation in his voice.
Dunno. Curiosity. Thought you were joking.
Fair enough. Ill take you home. He stood. They were close now, awkwardness thick between them.
Youve already paid for the room, she said.
Staying, then? he smirked.
*Hes playing with me.* She was drawn to himhadnt felt like this in years. But shame burned her. She wasnt the type for one-night stands.
Weve just metwhat if one of us has something? she blurted, knowing she sounded ridiculous.
He laughed. His closeness, his gaze, sent shivers down her spine.
Another time, she whispered, hating how feeble she sounded.
He drove her home without asking for her number.
*Arrogant git. And I acted like a schoolgirl,* she grumbled later.
Daniel didnt message. Yet somehow, hed gotten under her skin. After three days, she cracked
