By ten in the morning, the March sky had cleared of its grey blanket of clouds, and the sun peeked through. The sea turned a welcoming blue, its waves gently lapping at the pebbled shore. Even the air felt crisper and clearer.
Sitting indoors on such a fine morning seemed a waste, so Edward set aside the newspaper hed been reading after breakfast. With a sigh, he hauled himself out of his armchair and went to get dressed. The guesthouse hallway was emptyusually, little clusters of holidaymakers would be lounging on the sofas, but even they had ventured outside.
Edward strolled along the promenade, the pebbles crunching under his thick-soled shoes. Above him, seagulls cried joyfully in the sky. The fresh sea air filled his lungs, invigorating him.
Once the coastal guesthouses faded behind him, he climbed a gentle slope and walked through the withered grass of last year, dotted with tentative new shoots. From a distance, he noticed the only bench by the shore was occupied. It always puzzled him why more werent placed thereit was such a perfect spot to sit and watch the sea. He came here often, whenever the fickle spring weather allowed.
He considered turning back but changed his mind. The bench wasnt bought and paid forthered be room for him, too. And watching the sea with company was even better. As he drew closer, Edward realised the person on the bench was a woman. At his approach, she turned her head slightly, giving him a brief, indifferent glance.
She looked about his age, maybe a little younger. She wore joggers, a dark maroon hoodie, and trainers. Her hair was short and grey, her features still elegant. *Mustve been a beauty in her youth. Still is,* Edward thought, then scolded himself for the observation.
“Lovely morning, isnt it?” he said instead of a greeting.
The woman didnt reply, only raising an eyebrow slightly.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, not waiting for an answer as he circled behind her and settled at the far end of the bench. “Havent seen you here before. Just arrived?”
“Two days ago,” she said suddenly, her voice low and slightly husky.
“Ive been here a week. You could stare at the sea foreverits calming.”
“Are you stressed, then?” She turned to look at him briefly before facing the water again.
“What? Oh, no. Just making conversation. Though, with the state of the world, theres plenty to stress about.” Edward already regretted starting the chatwords got in the way of the view.
“Whats troubling you?” she asked, as if she didnt mind talking after all.
“Just like that, eh?” Edward grumbled.
“Why not? Thats why you sat down, isnt it? Easier to open up to a stranger.”
“Youre right.” He paused. “Thirty-odd years ago, I came here after my divorce. I was a wreck. Climbing the walls with loneliness, pestering my friends with complaints about my miserable life. Eventually, they packed me off to the seaside just to get rid of me.” Edward chuckled. “I was young thenthe sky bluer, the sea more inviting, the sun brighter. It was early autumn. Some brave souls were even swimming. I tried it once. There wasnt a bench here thenI used to sit on those rocks further out. One day, I spotted a new face on the promenade. Remember how *The Lady with the Dog* starts? Well, I noticed this young woman walking alone by the shore. She kept smiling, just at the corners of her mouth. Something about her felt familiar, so I introduced myself. Her name was Well, no need for names.”
They walked and talked. She was marriedher husband was older and terminally ill. Hed called his sister to stay with him and urged her to take a week by the sea. It was her first break from caregiving in years, so she kept smiling.
The next day, they met again. And she came! They spent every moment together, day and night, for those few blissful days. She wasnt recklessjust the opposite Edward searched for the right words but found none and fell silent.
“I married for love the first time. But we stopped hearing each other, understanding each other. Even in bed, shed be thinking about whether to buy our son a scooter or new trainers. Not that I blamed her. It takes two. But this it was a gift. For a soul starved of love.”
She gave herself to him desperately, like someone condemned. But time was relentless. His departure day came. She saw him off at the airport, smiling and wavingbut tears streamed down her face. And him? It never even crossed his mind to stay a few more days.
“You never saw her again?” his companion asked, her voice rough.
Shed been listening intently, eyes fixed on the sea. Edward thought she seemed tense.
“No. I asked for her address. Mobile phones werent a thing then. And I wouldnt have calledwouldve put her in a spot. At first, I missed her terribly. Kept delaying my trip. Then the whole idea seemed foolish. Why go? Her husband was dyingme turning up would just torment her. Shed have to lie, make excuses She had enough on her plate. Nothing good would come of it. Thats what I told myself. Then the address got lost.” Edward trailed off. The woman stayed quiet.
“Chickened out, I suppose. Bad experiences in love ruin your confidence. You start second-guessing everything.”
“Beautiful story. Did you ever remarry?”
“No. There were womenwont lie. But nothing stuck. Kept remembering that brief love by the sea.”
“Maybe because it was brief. No obligations, no disappointments, no consequences.” She stood.
“Leaving already?” Edward asked, suddenly anxious.
“Its time. Still, you shouldve gone to her. She waited for you.” She turned and walked briskly toward the guesthouses.
Edward stared after her, baffled. *What did she mean, that shed waited? A lucky guess? Or* But he didnt follow her.
After lunch, restless, he returned to the shore, hoping to see her again. She never came. He scanned the restaurant at dinnerno sign of her. The next day, he sat on the bench, watching. Suddenly, he imagined her young, with long dark hair, and heat rushed through him. *Its her. Annie. Bloody old fool.* He rushed to nearby guesthouses, asking. One receptionist said a woman matching her description had checked out early that morning. Her name was Anna.
“Where did she go? Please, her addressyou must have it from check-in,” he pleaded.
“Maybe she doesnt *want* you to find her?” the clerk pointed out, but moved by his story, she relented.
So he went to that unfamiliar town. Heart pounding, he climbed to the fourth floor of a red-brick terrace. He hesitated at the door. *What do I say? Its been decades. Why am I here? What if shes remarried? Shell slam the doorand shed be right. But come on, man, ring the bell.* His forehead was damp, his chest tight. *Wouldnt do to drop dead on her doorstep.* He took a deep breath and pressed the buzzer. A muted chime sounded inside. The door opened, and Anna smiled at himas if shed been expecting him.
“Hello. I knew youd come,” she said simply, inviting him in.
“Sorry it took so long,” Edward gasped, suddenly wishing hed brought flowers.
“Never too late. Just bad timing. Here, these are newnot my husbands,” she added, handing him slippers.
They sat in her cosy kitchen, sipping tea as she told her story. Her husband had died eight months after she returned. Before passing, hed said he loved her and didnt blame herhed sensed the change in her. Shed waited for Edward, then given up. When he told their story on the bench, shed wanted to confess. She was glad he remembered. But he hadnt recognised herso as she left, shed dropped a hint.
“I was a coward. Robbed us of years together. But its not too late, is it? Fate brought us back. Anna, lets try. Were not old yet. Dont worryI can look after myself. Lived alone long enough. I wont be a burden.”
“Both of us are used to being alone. Starting overs hard. No time left for mistakes. Youre rightbad experiences make us cautious. But Im tired of being alone. For what? We never had kids. Its not about wholl bring the glass of waterits that lifes harder alone. God made us to pair up. Maybe weve earned this, after all the heartache. Alright, lets try,” she agreed.
What their life would be, only they could decide.
