Ten Years in the Making
Zachary hadnt been lucky in love. His marriage ended after just three years, leaving him divorced by the time he turned thirty.
“At least we didnt have children,” hed tell his colleagues at work. “Wouldve been a shame to leave them behind.”
Hed misjudged Tanya. She hadnt wanted a familyjust nights out with her friends, parties, and endless socialising. Hed fallen for her lively charm, only to realise too late that she was too lively, too reckless.
“Zachary, we need you to go to Cliffside, a village about thirty miles from the city, to help set up some equipment,” the lead engineer told him. “A month, maybe less, depending on how quickly you sort it. Since youre a free man now, no family tying you down, its perfect timing.” He grinned.
Zachary didnt mind the change of scenery. Hed never been to Cliffside, and a short stint away sounded refreshing. When he arrived, he was given a choice.
“You can stay in the workers dorm, though its under renovation at the moment, or we can arrange a cottage near the substation where youll be working.”
“No thanks, I cant stand renovations,” Zachary laughed. “Id rather board with a landladymaybe shell cook decent meals. Im a bachelor, after all.”
They settled him in a small cottage owned by a widow named Evelyn. She was stern, reluctant to chat, always dressed in long black skirts and a headscarf. Yet, despite her sombre appearance, she moved with surprising energy. At first glance, Zachary had assumed she was elderly, but her sharp movements betrayed her youth.
They lived quietly, speaking little, but Evelyn cooked wellbetter than the canteen, at least. Zachary had arranged meals with her, figuring it didnt matter who he paid as long as the food was good.
“Listen, Sam,” he asked his workmate one day, “my landlady, Evelynshes not old, but she dresses like shes in mourning. I thought she might be religious, but Ive never seen her pray. Its odd.”
“Evelyn? Youve never seen her without that scarf?” Sam raised an eyebrow.
“No, shes already wrapped up by the time I see her in the morning. We exchange a few words, and thats it. Though she does feed me wellproper breakfasts, hot dinners.”
“Thats what matters, Zachary. A man appreciates good cooking. My missus, Alice, always feeds me, even if I come home drunk. Shell scold me first, sure, but then shell dish up a plate. Stands over me grumbling the whole time, but its all for show.” Sams eyes warmed when he spoke of his wife. Love, plain and simple.
“True enough,” Zachary agreed. “Weve all got a weakness for a good meal.”
After a pause, he asked, “Sam, whyd you ask if Id seen Evelyn without her scarf? Whats the story there?”
Sam exhaled. “Beautiful hair, thats all. She hides it away. Young woman like her, dressing like an old widow.”
“Why?”
“Because of what happened. She and Michael were deeply in loveeveryone envied them. He adored her. They married, and I was at the weddinghe was my cousin, but we were close as brothers. A perfect couple, they were. Then, a month later, he was gone.”
Zachary frowned. “How?”
“Springtime. Snow still on the ground, the river frozen. Michael was in a hurry to get home before dark. Instead of taking the bridge, he tried to cut across the ice in his Land Rover. The ice cracked. The car went under. They found him weeks later, far downstream.”
Zachary let out a low whistle. “Took a shortcut to save five miles.”
“Exactly. And Evelyns been a widow ever since. Must be twenty-seven, twenty-eight now.”
Zachary was silent. Poor Evelynmarried barely a month before tragedy struck. That evening, he returned to the cottage lost in thought. When he stepped inside, he froze.
Evelyn stood with her back to him, brushing out long, dark waves of hair that cascaded down her back. The door creaked, and she turned. His breath caught. Without the scarf, she was stunningsoft features framed by thick, wavy locks.
“Oh!” She startled, quickly twisting her hair into a bun and covering it again with the scarf, pulling it low over her brow.
“Evelyn,” Zachary said gently, “why hide such beauty? Youre so young. I never realisedits the way you dress.”
“I made a promise,” she murmured before retreating to the kitchen.
Zachary followed after washing up. Evelyn set the table in silence. After that night, she grew even more withdrawn, avoiding conversation. But he couldnt stop thinking about her.
Then, one day, he brought her a gift.
Walking home, hed picked a bouquet of wild daisies. Spotting Evelyn in the garden, he held them out with a smile. “For you. No refusingtodays my birthday.”
She blinked. “Is it?”
“It is. So, thank you in advance.”
A faint smile touched her lips. “Id have baked a cake if Id known.”
“Dont worry.” He shrugged off his rucksack and pulled out a shop-bought cake, a bottle of wine, and two bars of chocolate. “Well make do.”
Evelyn laid out a simple spread. Zachary poured the wine, but after a sip, she set her glass down.
“I dont drink. But happy birthday, Zachary.”
Her voice was soft, soothing.
“Evelyn,” he ventured, “since were here tell me about Michael. Ive heard a little. Sometimes, talking helps.”
She was silent, so he filled the space.
“My life hasnt been perfect either. Fell seriously ill after the army. Took years to recover. Married a lively girl, thought it was forever, but we wanted different things. No kids, no real home. Divorced now.”
Evelyn listened, then finally spoke.
“I still love him, Zachary. Fate gave him to me, then took him away so quickly. I barely had time to be a wife before grief swallowed me whole. At his grave, I promised to live only with his memory.”
He nodded. “Memory matters, Evelyn. But lifes given to us once. There wont be another.”
She sighed. “I know. But I cant break my promise. Youre a good man, though. Youll find happiness.”
Days later, Zacharys assignment ended. He left with a heavy heart, though Evelyn gave no sign shed miss him.
“Goodbye, Zachary. Be happy,” was all she said.
Back in the city, he tried to forget her. But she haunted his dreams. Other women didnt compare. Slowly, time passed.
Ten years.
Zachary never remarried. Then, driving back from a seaside holiday, he saw the sign for Cliffside.
“Should I stop? Maybe just drive past”
But his hands turned the wheel.
The village had changednew asphalt roads, fresh fences. He pulled up outside Evelyns cottage, heart pounding. A new fence made him wonder if she still lived there.
He stood hesitating until a voice spoke behind him.
“Looking for someone?”
He turned. And there she wasmore beautiful than ever, her hair loose, no scarf in sight.
Her eyes widened in recognition. “Zachary. The man who told me lifes given once.” She smiled. “Come in. Ive just made tea. Passing through?”
“No,” he admitted. “I wanted to see you. I never forgot you. They say you cant escape fatewhats lost comes back. Maybe this is our chance.”
Five years ago, Zachary and Evelyn married. He brought her to the city, where she now raises their daughtera girl with her mothers eyes.
And in their home, happiness stays.
