Emily knew everything. Of course she didshe wasnt twenty, nor even thirty, and the years had taught her well.
She was weary of being alone, of dragging this invisible load behind her.
Rachel, why is it always like this? Whats wrong with me? Am I a bore? Do I smell? Am I too clingy? Or perhaps I simply dont give enough love and affection, she moaned, her voice cracking with desperation. Whats wrong with me? Everyonetall, short, thin, stout, drinking, beautiful, plainall have lives, relationships, families and I have none.
Listen, Em dont laugh, but my gran used to talk about a thing I cant quite name a crown of spinsterhood, Rachel whispered, leaning in.
Give me a break, Emily brushed it off. What, are we living in the Middle Ages?
Dont you believe me? Rachel sprang from her chair. Even my thirdcousins sister got that cursed crown off, the old crone lifted it.
What crone? Emily asked, flatly, just to keep the conversation moving.
Anyway, Ill call Sophie nowshes the sister who had the crown removed. Ill find out everything, Rachel said, tapping her phone.
Ten minutes later Rachels voice crackled, Alright, Sophie hows it going? Getting married again? What? And Harry? Oh, hes out. Fine, Ill be there. She hung up, a brief silence falling.
Whats happened? Emily asked.
Nothing except I need another wedding gift. My sisters getting married againher fifth time. Looks like that crone really did a number on that crown. Heres the address. You coming?
Emily shrugged. She drove out, but the crone, twisting her brow, turned Emily back the way shed come, emptyhanded.
Theres no crown for you.
What? I
The men you chose were wrong. The first was a scoundrel who left his child behind, promising you forever while already married.
You didnt know?
Theres nothing wrong with you. He was just a rat, and he vanished into the bushes. No need to dwell on him.
Second? Emily smirked.
The second wasnt yours either, the crone confirmed. The third wasnt either.
What third? I have no one.
There will be none until the right one appears, and not when you expect it. Hell be yours, but not entirely yours. A woman cant change that, but trust himhes reliable, and youll find a sort of domestic happiness. Maybe even have him all to yourself, if you wait, dont rush.
Now go and tell your friend to see a doctor, give her the herbs, and make her stop prying. The crone asked me to pass that on long ago.
That conversation had taken place years before. Desperate to find her own happiness, Emily had once visited the cronea wise woman of the village. Everything the crone said came true.
She met the third man, but the crones words faded from her mind. He was kind, good to her daughter, yet something always shifted, and hed disappear without explanation.
Then Emily met James. At first she didnt realise he was the one. The flat next door had been empty for years. When Emily moved in with her daughter, the neighbour, Aunt Kate, said the owner only came by night, staying with his mother.
One evening curiosity got the better of her; she peered through the slightly ajar door and saw a man hanging wallpaper. She slipped away, assuming the owner had returned.
Their first real encounter was in the hallway a week later. The doors were oddly designedopening one would lock the other, forcing you to close the first before the second could open. Emily rushed to work, tried to pull the door open, and couldnt. The neighbour apologized, shut his flat, and Emily heard quick, light footsteps.
Later she blocked his exit, and they finally met on the buildings communal landing, where the neighbour let her go first.
One day James helped Grace lift her bicycle, and Emily baked pastries for him as a thankyou. In the park, Jamess sonabout Graces agejoined them, and the children raced on the swings while Emily and James chatted merrily.
Six months on, James asked Emily out on a proper date, later introducing her to his family. He confessed his past in a low, earnest voice:
Emily, Im not a twentyyearold boy, nor some brute. Im a grown man with my own opinions and temper. I promise if you live with me I wont cheat, Ill do the hard work, Ill earn, I dont drink or smoke. No bad habits. Ill respect you, value you Im sorry, I cant love you the way you deserve, Ive tried.
He went on, I fell for a girl when I was youngshe seemed warm, but it never worked. She saw me only as a friend, a brother. I tried to push those feelings out for years.
Emily, feeling the weight of his confession, asked, Should I have talked to her?
Would you think Im a fool, wandering like a lost deer? James replied, laying his feelings bare. I told her I loved her, more than life itself. She told me shed always been a friend. I realised I couldnt live with a love that wasnt returned, and I forced her into a marriage that never should have happened.
He paused, I married later, but love feels like a punishment to me. Im a wreck, unable to give a woman true happiness. Women hear with their ears, they deserve honesty.
He finished, I just want you to decide if you can live without fireworks, without dramatic passion. Think, then answer.
Emily thought it over, and a week later she joined Jamess large, boisterous family. They welcomed her and her daughter with open arms. She had feared being seen as a replacement, or being pitied, but the reception was warm.
She never regretted marrying James. He was reliable, and their problems seemed to dissolve. She tried not to dwell on longing or fleeting glances she sometimes caught from Jamesmaybe a memory of a past love, but it never disturbed their life together.
Occasionally, a distant look would cross his face, clouded and sad. Emily placed her hand over her heart and thought, Every woman dreams a man will change for her. She had married not for a grand love but grew to love his steadiness.
One spring afternoon, James watched Emily wash the windows, sunlight scorching the glass. He entered the room, admiring her, feeling a rare freedom.
Come on, love, whats wrong? Emily asked, noticing his sudden movement.
Nothing, he replied, twirling a dishcloth, You have no idea how good it feels.
He kissed her gently, finally realizing how deeply he loved his wife.
Emily smiled, thinking, The crone wasnt lyingshe told me to simply wait.
Good morning, dear, she whispered to the world, May your love, if its still out there, flutter to your window. And if its already inside, cherish it.
She wrapped the scene in a warm glow, sending out rays of kindness and positivity, forever yours.
