Confused
“Emily, I’m leaving for a work contract up north You know Ive got big debts to pay off. I wont turn to crimeI wont stealthis is the only way. Ill earn, pay them off bit by bit, and come back Therell even be enough left to fix up your house, and well buy little Sophie that bike she wants. But well have to wait a year or so,” Matthew tried to reassure her.
In the village, everyone knew Matthew had been courting Emily, a young widow. They loved each other and had planned to marry, but his debts hung over him, forcing this decision.
“I see,” Emily said flatly. “So youre off to join your ex-wife up north, just like she did. What is it about that place?”
“Em, you know she means nothing to me now.”
But Emily couldnt stop herselfshe lashed out, hurling cruel words until Matthew realised it was pointless to argue. He packed up and left. She ignored his calls, even changed her number.
Time passed. The summer was scorching, and this day was the worst yetthick heat lingered from dawn. The older villagers murmured, “Therell be a storm by nightfall, mark my words. The airs too heavy.”
No one expected the hurricane that evening. Dark clouds rolled in, promising thunder, but instead came a howling wind. Wires snapped, trees crashed to the ground, slates flew off roofs, fences toppled. Everyone huddled inside, waiting out natures fury.
The next morning, they emerged to survey the damage.
“My chicken coops flooded!” cried Mrs. Harris. “Thank God the hens were roosting high.”
“And my tomatoes are ruined. What kind of harvest will I have now?” Anna lamented.
“Never mind the tomatoes and chickensweve no power. Who knows when theyll fix it? Well have to wait for a crew from town.”
By noon, electricians arrived and worked for hours. Lights flickered back onthough not everywhere. Some houses had blown fuses, but Emilys wiring had burned out entirely, leaving a blackened streak on the wall. Her hands shook as she stared at it. The house was old, the wiring ancientwhat if it had caught fire? What wouldve happened to her and Sophie?
“Dont fret, love,” Mrs. Harris said. “Stephen had the same trouble. Theres an electrician, Chris, from the next villagea proper expert, charges fair. Ask him.”
“Mummy, whens lunch?” Four-year-old Sophie tugged her sleeve. “Im hungry.”
“Soon, sweetheart. At least weve got gasIll cook straight away.”
As she tidied up, Emily kept glancing at the charred wall. Chris was booked solid, so she spent the night in darkness. The next morning, a broad-shouldered man strode into her yard, his smile easy.
“Morning. Whore you here for?” Emily asked, stepping outside.
“You. Heard youve got wiring trouble. Im Chrissparks by trade.”
“Yes, the wirings gone. The walls scorched.” She led him inside.
Sophie darted out from her room, then froze, suddenly shy. Chris winked, and the little girl hid behind her mother.
“Sophie, this is Mr. Chris. Hell fix our lights.”
Chris examined the damage, whistling low. “Couldve been a firelucky escape. Wirings shot, shouldve been replaced years ago.” He fetched his tools. “Ill redo the lot.”
Emily busied herself making lunch while he worked. “Ill pay him, of course, but feeding the mans the least I can do.”
By midday, Chris was done. “All set. Try the switch.” Light flooded the room.
“Thank you. How much do I owe you?” Emily reached for her purse.
“Not a penny,” he grinned. “Lunchll do me finestarving, I am.”
Shed already set the table. Over the meal, they chatted idly. Sophie stayed quiet, wary. When Chris left, the little girl frowned.
“Mum, I dont like him.”
“Why? He did us a huge favour.”
Later, Emily replayed the way Chris had looked at her. She was pretty, youngonly thirty-one. Her husband had died when Sophie was a baby. Shed told herself life wasnt overshe deserved happiness.
Three days later, Chris returned. “Your fence is a wreck, love, and the gates hanging off. Let me sort itno charge, just feed me.” He smirked. “Truth is, Ive taken a shine to you.”
Emilys heart lifted. Maybe her luck was changing.
“I dont mind,” she said. “Go ahead. Ill make lunch.”
As they ate, she asked, “Whove you got waiting at home?”
“Wondering if Im married? No. My ex cheatedwe split.”
A pause. Then Chris took her hand. “I fancy you, Emily.”
Her head spun. Here was a strong, handsome mansober, hardworking. What more could a woman want? Yet Sophie watched them uneasily, her small face troubled.
From then on, Chris visited often. They talked, laughedbut Emily kept him at arms length. He didnt push. A month passed this way, neither rushing.
Then the gossip reached her: Matthew was back. He lived with his mother; his sister, Grace, a nursery teacher, had returned home too after a failed marriage, her toddler in tow.
“Grace, is it true? Emilys seeing that Chris bloke?”
“Whole village knows,” Grace sighed. “He fixed her wiring after the storm, and now well.”
Matthew clenched his fists. “So thats it? A few lightbulbs, and shes his?”
“Stop it. Shes been lonelyyou left.”
“I had no choice! I explained! She wouldnt listen.”
“Well, now youre debt-free. Sort it out.”
He confronted Emily on her way home, gripping her arm. “You and himsomething going on?”
“Matthew, are you stalking me?”
“Just answer.”
“None of your business! You were gone a yearwho knows what you got up to?”
Suddenly, he kissed her. Something inside her shifted, the old flame rekindling despite her anger. She stood dazed.
“Confused, eh?”
“Its just hes different,” she mumbled.
Matthew stormed off, leaving her in the road.
That evening, Chris arrived with wine. Sophie was at her grandmothers. Still rattled, Emily forced a smile as he poured.
“To us,” Chris said, his gaze oily. “Ive always loved a pretty face.”
“How many others have you said that to?”
“Only you.” He grinned.
The wine blurred her thoughts. Chriss gaze felt hypnotic. Then he grabbed her, kissing roughly, hands rough on her skin.
“Waityoure hurting me!”
“Playing hard to get?” He sneered. “You owe me.”
“Youre drunk.”
“I know what I want.” He dragged her toward the bedroom.
She fought backuntil a slap cracked across her cheek.
“After all Ive done, youll obey me,” he snarled.
Thenthud. Chris slammed into the wall. Matthew stood there, fists clenched. Drunk and outmatched, Chris was thrown out, his shirt torn, lip bleeding. The neighbours saw him stumble away.
Matthew glared at Emily and left. Chris never returnedvillage talk revealed hed beaten his ex-wife too.
Three days later, Matthew knocked. Sophie raced out, flinging herself into his arms. Emily followed, hesitant.
“You alright, Em?”
“Fine. What, you my keeper now?”
“Seems you need one,” he teased, setting Sophie down.
He pulled Emily close. “I missed you.” His eyes were warm, familiar. Sophie beamedher favourite uncle was back. Finally, she felt safe.
