Long ago, in a quiet village in Yorkshire, a man returned home one evening and spoke softly to his wife: “Im sorry. Ive fallen for someone else. Ill do right by the boys. Im leavingforgive me, if you can.” With those words, he walked out, leaving Eleanor alone with their children. The next day, a neighbours whispered tale opened her eyes to the truth.
Eleanor had married late, for she had once been devoted to her studies. Later, her work consumed her, and it was there she met James. She collided with him one morning as she hurried to the office, her papers scattering. He caught her arm, and by that evening, he was waiting outside her workplace with an umbrella and a bouquet of roses. Thus began their courtshipflowers, surprises, gifts. Within six months, they wed. A year later, their first son was born.
During her pregnancies, Eleanors figure changed, but James never seemed to mind. Then came their second boy, and though she never shed the weight, she embraced motherhood, tending to their home while James built his own little business repairing clocks and watches. Unnoticed by her, he grew distant. That final year was especially hardvanishing for work, claiming trips to London or Manchester. Eleanor never guessed his travels were lies. Then, one evening, he returned and calmly shattered her world with his confession.
She hadnt expected it. Only the next day, over tea, did their neighbour reveal James had been unfaithful for years. Eleanor was lost. Eight months passed in a blur.
Then, one twilight, the doorbell rang. James had come to see the boys. Eleanor exchanged stiff words before retreating to the kitchen. Her phone chimed. “Hello,” she answered, a smile in her voice. “Id thought youd forgotten us.”
“Never,” came the warm reply. “How could I forget my happiness? Ill fetch you all tomorrowyoull love the new house. I love you.”
As she set the phone down, joy lit her face. Frederick had proposed; they would start anew. She turned toward the childrens roomonly to find James standing there, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Am I too late?” he murmured.
“Yes!” Eleanor laughed, bright as the morning sun.
