**”Lets Get Married”**
It was a lazy Sunday morning, and Eleanor could stay in bed as long as she liked. No one was there to make breakfast, and she had no plans for the day. After lingering under the covers a little longer, she finally got up, showered, and sipped a cup of coffee. Now what? How to pass the time? Her friends were busy with their husbands and children. Visit her parents? Her mother would just start the same old lecture about how shed made a huge mistake.
A heaviness settled in her chest. Eleanor already knew shed been wrong to divorce, but it was too late to fix things now. In truth, Edward hadnt been such a terrible husband. He didnt drink, didnt cheat, and wasnt picky about foodshe couldve served him anything, and he wouldnt have noticed, too absorbed in his computer.
He worked late into the night, then slept till noon. Dragging him out of the house was a chore; hed yawn at parties, doze off at the cinema, and on walks, hed just hurry back to his screen. By the time he went to bed, Eleanor was getting up for work. And when they *did* share the same bed, he was done in seconds, like running a sprint. Three years together, and shed never gotten pregnantthough neither had any health issues.
The lack of a child wasnt the only reason shed left. She was just tired of talking to the back of his head. She saw his hunched shoulders more than his face. How do you share a life with someones back? She might as well have adopted a catfed it, cleaned up after it, and traded his grunts for purring. The difference wouldnt have been much, and at least a cat wouldve shown her affection.
But her mother insisted being married gave her status. Being single only raised questions.
*”A million women would envy you. And youre still unhappy. What more do you want?”* her grandmother would snap.
No onenot even her friendsunderstood why shed left Edward. They had normal husbandsmen who worked regular hours, slept with their wives at night, and had no trouble having children. They bickered, made up, scolded their men for drinking too much, then nursed them with hangover cures.
She and Edward had been classmates, known each other for eleven years. Hed always been a bookish type, nose buried in some manual. By sixth form, computers became his obsession. Eleanor and the other girls used to laugh at the awkward, bespectacled boy. When he talked tech with his mates, she couldnt follow a wordit might as well have been another language.
Years after school, they bumped into each other. Edward had grown into a decent-looking man, traded glasses for contacts. He knew so much, and Eleanor loved listening. And she *was* a good listener. They started dating. Three weeks later, he proposedclumsily, matter-of-factly.
*”Look, why are we acting like teenagers? Lets get married.”*
*”Alright,”* shed laughed.
*”Mum, hes clever, hes interesting,”* shed told her mother later.
*”But do you love him?”* her mother had asked.
Eleanor had been taken aback. Theyd known each other forever, and he was fun to be aroundbut love? They never spoke of love. She assumed proposing meant he loved her. Didnt it? Their marriage felt more like friendshipexcept friends didnt share a bed.
Her mother never liked Edward, was shocked by the divorce, but still berated her for leaving.
*”Have you lost your mind? He doesnt drink, stays home, earns welland you want out? Where will you find another husband like that? Couldve been worse. Shouldnt have married him then. Spoilt, thats your problem. If youd had a baby, you wouldnt be so restless. Looks like well never get grandchildren…”*
Eleanor stayed silent. Shed have a baby now if she could. But life was full of *if onlys*.
Edward had seemed genuinely surprised when she asked for the divorce. He didnt argue, just packed his things and moved back to his mums. His mother called immediately, spewing venom about Eleanor being selfish and ungrateful. She hung up before the rant ended. The divorce was quickno kids, and she gladly let him keep his computer.
At first, she felt relief. Then loneliness crept in. Autumn arrived, and she barely left the house. The walls felt like they were closing in. A long, solitary winter stretched ahead. She missed Edwardhaving *someone* there, someone to care for. But regrets were useless now.
Her mother kept calling, trying to set her up, but Eleanor refused.
Plenty of women divorced. They grieved a little, then moved on, found someone better. But how do you meet anyone if you never go out?
One day, a friend signed her up for a dating site, made her pose for photos, forced a “sexy” smileas if Eleanor knew what that looked like anymore. It had felt like a joke at the time, a way to make Edward jealous.
Now, curled on the sofa with her laptop, she logged in just to browse. So many men wanting to meethandsome, plain, young, older. She scrolled through womens profiles tooeach boasting about cooking like a chef, sewing, impressive careers, just missing love.
Eleanor had no such talents. Couldnt sew, hated sports. Stuck for what to write, she remembered Edward liking how she listened. Men loved to talk, loved an audience. So she typed: *”Im a good listener.”*
Messages poured in instantlyall from “gorgeous” men. Why were *they* on dating sites? One caught her eyestubble, piercing gaze.
An hour of lively chat later, he suggested meeting.
*”Maybe not so soon,”* she replied cautiously.
*”Why wait? Better to know now,”* Daniel answered.
(Probably not his real nameor photo.) His logic made sense. No need to travel far anyway.
*”How about today? Unless youre busy?”*
She wasnt. *”The Willow Café. One hour.”*
She rushed to her wardrobe, then stopped. Let him see her as she was. She pulled on jeans and a fitted jumper that flattered her figurestill good, no stretch marks. A touch of mascara, hair down. She liked the mirrors reflection.
He was waiting outside the café. Recognisablephoto was real. The place was quiet. They took a window table. He ordered coffee; she skipped cake.
Daniel studied her openly. She shivered under his gaze.
*”Disappointed?”* she asked.
*”No. Thought youd be older.”*
*”Prefer pensioners, do you?”* she shot back.
He laugheda warm, easy sound. Most men either giggled or guffawed. She decided she liked him.
He talked about himselfnothing extraordinary. The more she listened, the more she liked him. Confident, but not arrogant. She kept her own story short: job, divorced…
*”The best is yet to come,”* she said mysteriously.
He laughed again.
*”More coffee?”* he asked. *”Or my place?”*
*”What?”* She understood perfectly.
*”Were adults. Well end up in bed eventually. Why wait?”*
*”Is this a test?”* she wondered.
*”Alright,”* she said.
At the hotel, he sat on the bed. She stayed standing, coat still on.
*”Keeping it on?”* he teased.
*”Im not sure Im ready…”* She wanted to bolt.
*”Then why come?”* No annoyance in his voice.
*”Curiosity. Thought you were joking.”*
*”Fair enough. Ill take you home.”*
They stood close. She felt awkward.
*”Youve already paid for the room,”* she said.
*”So we stay?”* He smirked.
*Hes toying with me.* She was drawn to himitd been so long. But shame crept in.
*”We just metwhat if one of us is…?”* She sounded ridiculous.
He laughed. His nearness, his gaze, made her skin prickle.
*”Another time,”* she mumbled.
He drove her home, didnt ask for her number.
*”Arrogant git. And I acted like a schoolgirl,”* she grumbled later.
Daniel didnt message. But hed gotten under her skin. After three days, she caved and texted:
*”Are you upset?”*
*”Not at all. Message when youre ready.”*
She knew what he meant. A week of doubt later, she agreed.
*”Ill pick you up in an hour.”*
She froze, then scrambled to dress. At the hotel, she
