The Angel Named Andrew
Emily was already dressed when Edward walked into the office.
“Are you alone?” he asked, stepping closer.
“Yes.”
“Ill stop by your place tonight. Ive got good news for you,” Edward murmured, lowering his voice. Just as he moved to embrace her, footsteps echoed outside the door. He instantly withdrew and stepped back toward the exit.
“See you this evening,” he said and left.
Waiting by the lift, Emily still hoped Edward might return so she could ask about his news. Had he finally decided to leave his wife? What if he stayed the night? Shed need to prepare dinner. If only shed taken the meat out of the freezer this morningit wouldve thawed by now. At least shed bought a bottle of wine yesterday.
Impatient, she tapped her foot, eager to get home in time to cook before Edward arrived. Finally, the lift doors opened.
Back in her flat, Emily immediately put the meat in the microwave to defrost before changing her clothes. A quick glance around confirmed the place was tidy.
When theyd first started seeing each other, Edward had complained about his wifehow she didnt work, yet never managed to cook dinner, spending her days in boutiques, salons, and gyms. Emily had taken note. She made sure the flat was spotless and dinner ready whenever he visited. He rarely ate, just picking at the food, and most of it ended up in the bin. He came twice a week, while taking his son to football practice. They had just an hour. Emily never cried, never nagged, never asked for more. The perfect mistress.
Her older sister had spent years with a married man who never left his wife. When she finally ended it, he died of a heart attack. So Emily had sworn never to get involved with a married man. But as they say, never say never.
Before Edward, shed dated a man for four years who never proposed. Then she spotted him in a café with another woman while out with a friend. By the time he returned home, shed packed his things and left them by the door.
She cried all night, later regretting her haste. Over time, she tried dating others, but nothing felt right. Her ex, James, used to drive her to work; now she wasted hours on the bus. Eventually, she quit and found a job just two stops away, walking instead.
At her new workplace, the deputy managera handsome man who vaguely resembled that actor, Hiddlestonnoticed her straight away. A colleague warned her he was married with a son. Emily was disappointed. She liked Edward. He was the kind of man women dreamed of. But she resolved to keep her distance.
She left the Christmas party early. The pavements were icy, and she nearly slipped in a dark alley. Someone caught her armEdward had been walking behind her. He escorted her home but didnt press to come inside.
Perhaps that won her over, or perhaps it was simply time to fall in love again. From then on, shed find flowers, chocolates, or a note wishing her good morning on her desk. Who could resist?
Within a month, they were intimate. Emily told herself it was just physical, nothing more. But since when does the heart listen?
Edward visited twice a week, always for just an hourthe length of his sons football training. Soon, the rigid schedule grew tiresome, and she considered ending it. But as if sensing her thoughts, he preempted her, saying hed decided to leave his wife. She was growing suspicious anyway. He wanted a long, happy life with Emily. To prove it, he even stayed the night. It was intoxicating. And she believed him because she wanted to.
Then his son fell ill, and his visits stopped. She vowed not to let him back in, but when he rang her doorbell, she ran to open it. Leaving him was beyond her strength.
She waited, but he delayed, never leaving his wife. Once, he confessed hed tried before, but his wife had swallowed pills. Luckily, hed returned in time to call an ambulance. So everything remained as it was.
Emily had just finished cooking when a short buzz sounded at the door. She checked her reflectionsatisfiedthen opened it. Edward pulled her into his arms.
“Something smells delicious,” he said.
“I made roast. Will you eat?”
“No, not enough time.” Kissing her hungrily, he led her to the sofa, already draped with fresh linens. Afterward, they lay together, catching their breath.
“You had news for me. Actually, Ive got some too,” Emily reminded him.
“Good news?” he asked.
“Not sure. You go first.”
“You know Mr. Thompsons retiring?” Edward said. Emily stayed silent. “I spoke to the director. Hes agreed to promote you. Youll head the department. Arent you pleased?”
“Of course,” she said, forcing a smile, though disappointment weighed heavy. She buried her face in his shoulder to hide her tears. Shed hoped for so much more.
“Shame youll be on another floor, but fewer rumours that way. Its getting harder to keep my hands off you at work.” He leaned in, but she pulled away. “What was your news?”
“Sure you wont eat?” She stood.
“No. Blimey, look at the time. Ive got to fetch my son.”
He kissed her goodbye and left. Emily locked the door, put the uneaten roast and wine in the fridge, then finally let herself cry.
Sleep wouldnt come. Staring at the ceiling, she knew it was time to end this. The last thing she needed was his wife storming in. Tomorrow, shed tell him
But tomorrow was Saturday. She still had until Monday. She hadnt shared her own newsthe one thing that might push him to act.
By evening, the rain stopped, and sunlight broke through. Emily decided on a walk. Sick of being alone, she strolled two stops to the shops, ambling past shelves before picking up tea and biscuits. Only one till was open, a short queue forming.
An elderly woman finished, and a boy stepped up. Most lads bought sweets or crisps, but he placed pasta, cucumbers, bread, and butter on the belt.
“Are you alone? Wheres your mum? Do you have money?” an older woman behind him asked. The cashier eyed him suspiciously.
“Stop holding up the queue. Be glad the lads helping his mum instead of grilling him,” a man muttered.
“A teen ran off without paying just last week,” the cashier said.
“Ive got money,” the boy said firmly, digging into his pocket.
“Just ring him up,” the man insisted. “How longs this going to take?”
The boy turned and locked eyes with Emily. Without thinking, she stepped forward.
“Oh, there you are.” She placed her items beside his.
“Together?” the cashier asked warily.
“Of course. Isnt that right, love?” She rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Why didnt you say your mum was here?” the cashier scolded, scanning the items.
Outside, Emily paid.
“Thank you. Do you have a bag?” he asked.
“Why?”
“For your things. Ill give you the money back.” He reached into his pocket again.
“Keep the tea and biscuits. Why are you shopping alone? How old are you?”
“Nine,” he said without blinking. He looked barely seven, but she didnt press.
“Do you live nearby? Ill walk youits late. How did your mum let you go out alone?”
“She cant walk. A car hit her,” he said quietly.
“Im sorry. And your dad?”
“He left when he found out shed never walk again.”
“Is there no treatment? What do the doctors say?” She stopped walking.
“I dont know.” He shrugged.
“So you take care of her?”
“Just shopping, mopping, and hanging laundry. She does the restcooking, washing up.”
“Youre so young.” Her eyes stung.
“Im not little. Do you have kids?”
“No,” she sighed. “But Id love a son like you. Whats your name?”
“Andrew.”
“Andrew If I ever have a son, Ill name him Andrew.”
“Are you expecting?”
The question startled her, but she didnt want to lie.
“Yes. But Im not sure His fathers married. He already has a son.” She hesitated. “Youre too young for grown-up talk.”
“Im not little,” he repeated indignantly. “Thats my house.”
“Do you need money? Help?” She didnt want to leave him.
“Mum has her pension. Dad pays child support. Were fine.”
“Go on, then. Your mum must be waiting.”
He ran toward the building but stopped halfway.
“Everything will be alright,” he called.
She didnt reply before he vanished inside. Walking home, a strange calm settled over her. If a child could shoulder such burdens, surely she could too. And if something ever happened
