**No Wedding After All**
*— Emily, you’re finally getting married!* Mum said with a smile. *I’m so glad William proposed! You know how unreliable men can be these days—always delaying commitment. But William’s different, so hold on to him.*
*— Mum, let’s not pretend I’m not a catch,* Emily teased. *I’m clever, pretty—I deserve a prince!*
*— Oh, a prince now?* Mum laughed. *Don’t forget you’re 35, love. This might be your last chance.*
Emily hated that phrase—*last chance*. But she didn’t argue. She knew Mum worried, watching other women her age already married with children. Meanwhile, no queue of suitors had ever formed for her.
The wedding was set for two weeks later. Everything was arranged: the banquet booked at the finest restaurant in Manchester, invitations sent, outfits chosen. Only the dress still troubled her—she needed a final fitting.
The doorbell rang. *”William’s here!”* Mum hurried to greet their guest.
*— Good evening, Mrs. Whitmore! Hello, Emily!* William said cheerfully. *I never come empty-handed—chocolates for you, Mrs. Whitmore, and flowers for Emily.*
*— Oh, you shouldn’t have!* Mum beamed. *I still marvel at how my girl landed such a gem! Honestly, you’re flawless. Go on, Emily’s waiting in her room.*
They’d only been dating six months. Emily often wondered why a man like him—a senior council officer—would choose her, just a music teacher. But William had made his intentions clear from the start: he wanted a wife.
Reliable, proper—*a perfect catch*, Mum always said. Only five years older, yet Emily sometimes wanted to call him *Mr. Carter* like he was her superior.
*— Emily, tulips for you. I never forget to spoil you,* he said, almost condescending. *Is everything set for the wedding?*
*— Thank you. Almost. Just the dress and shoes left.*
*— Make sure you impress my family,* he said sternly. *Spare no expense—buy whatever you need.* He pulled out his wallet and left a stack of £50 notes on the dresser.
*— Here. And next week, visit my mother. She’ll give you recipes for my favourite meals. I won’t start married life with arguments, so take a few housekeeping lessons.*
*— William, I *am* 35,* Emily smiled weakly. *Most women my age know how to run a home. Shouldn’t we focus on romance right now?*
*— No. My mother keeps an immaculate house. It’ll be embarrassing if she visits and finds fault.*
Emily promised, and William left, citing work. A heaviness settled in her chest. She missed lightness, tenderness—things William rarely offered.
The next day, she went for her final dress fitting. Listless, she picked the first gown suggested.
*”This is fine,”* she told herself. *”I’m marrying well—many would envy me. Mum’s happy. What more do I need?”*
Weary, she headed to the bus stop when a voice called out:
*— Emily? Fancy seeing you here. Remember me?*
Of course she did. *Robert.* Her first love, who’d left her for someone else. Now he stood there, casual as if nothing had happened.
*— Hello, Robert. Didn’t expect to see you. How are you?*
*— Great, really. I’ve got an office nearby. Work’s brilliant, but my divorce finalised last month.* He shrugged. *Anyway, you? Married yet?*
*— No. Seeing someone, though. Not sure if it’ll work out.* She lied, cheeks burning.
*— Right,* Robert mused. *Got time for coffee? I was just off to lunch.*
She agreed, though she knew she shouldn’t. Memories flooded back—long talks, laughter, how effortless things had been with him.
An hour later, Robert paid the bill. *— I’ll call you,* he said warmly. *Let’s swap numbers—don’t want to lose touch.*
Emily floated home, certain fate had intervened.
Mum pounced as she entered. *— Did you get the dress? Show me!*
*— There won’t be a wedding,* Emily said coldly, walking past her.
Mum gasped. *— What? What happened? Did William call it off? Emily, speak!*
*— I don’t want it. Or him. You think he loves me? He just wants a live-in maid.*
*— Emily, are you ill? This is cold feet! William’s a blessing—you’ll want for nothing!*
Emily sat, barely containing her joy. *— Mum… I saw Robert today.*
*— That *boy* who broke your heart?* Mum clutched her chest. *You’re throwing away William for *him*?*
Emily didn’t answer. Her mind was made up.
Mum called William, hoping he’d fix things. Instead, he lashed out:
*— This is how you raised her? My mother warned me about your family. Don’t call me again.*
Mum was crushed. But Emily felt free—she’d dodged a mistake. *Robert would call soon,* she thought.
A week passed. Nothing.
*— He’s busy,* she reasoned. *He’ll call.*
Finally, she dialled his number. No answer. An hour later, he rang back.
*— Emily? Sorry, work’s mad. What’s up?*
*— Just calling,* she stammered.
*— I’m swamped. Let’s talk later, yeah?*
*— Maybe lunch tomorrow? That same café?*
A pause. Then, softly: *— Look, Em… it was nice seeing you. But why dredge up the past? There’s no future for us. You didn’t think otherwise, did you?*
*— No,* she forced out, tears falling. *Just bored. I’m getting married soon.*
She hung up, humiliated. She’d ruined everything for a man who didn’t care.
But Mum, wise as ever, comforted her: *— Better to cancel a wedding than marry wrong. Forget Robert—he wasn’t worth it. You’ll find the right one.*
Emily never saw William or Robert again yet held onto hope—someday, she’d find happiness.
