A Woman Beyond Her Worth
Lucy’s mother could only sigh heavily as she gazed at her beautiful daughter. No matter how hard she tried, Evelyn couldn’t convince Lucy that waiting for a prince on a white horse was a fool’s errand. Some dreams were never meant to come true.
“Lucy, you live in a fairy tale,” Evelyn would say. “Look at all the decent lads around you—your classmates, Charlie and Tom, are good boys, always lingering by our gate in the evenings. Why won’t you take a stroll with them? Talk to them—you might see that even ordinary lads can have beautiful souls.”
“Mum, I don’t care about beautiful souls,” Lucy would retort, straightening her back so her already lovely figure looked even more striking. “I want a man who’s handsome, and there isn’t a single one in this village worthy of me. Just look at me! Can you honestly name one?”
Evelyn would only shake her head. “Darling, it’s better to be born lucky than beautiful. That saying’s been around for ages, and life keeps proving it right.”
Lucy had heard those words all her life, but she never pondered them. As she grew older, she became more certain that beauty was the key to happiness. From childhood, she’d basked in admiration.
“What a lovely girl!” “Oh, those eyes!” “Such a darling!”—she’d smile and preen, accepting sweets from admirers without a second thought.
In school plays, she was always the princess. The other girls envied her, longing to be like her. Lucy never realized how that endless praise might twist her fate, though Evelyn often worried. Even as an adult, knowing her own worth, Lucy still dreamed of a man as striking as herself. When classmates and local lads offered friendship, she met them with a mocking smirk.
“Do they really not see the difference between them and me?” she’d wonder.
Evelyn tried to warn her that handsome men rarely made good husbands, but Lucy was certain otherwise. She’d scraped through school and only managed college, where she still found no man worthy of her.
“Mum, I don’t want some ordinary bloke like Harry or James. I’ll wait for my happiness,” she’d say whenever Evelyn brought up marriage.
Men always flocked to her, and after college, Lucy worked at the village council. But eventually, the local lads accepted she was beyond their reach and stopped paying her attention. Her classmates married, had children—while she remained alone.
“I’m leaving for the city,” she announced one day. “There’s nothing for me here. My happiness is out there—none of these village boys are good enough.”
Evelyn let her go without protest. She’d tired of arguing, of pointing out that time slipped away while Lucy chased beauty. Her friends boasted of grandchildren and happy homes, while Evelyn had little to say of her daughter.
At thirty, Lucy was still alone, still searching for a man handsome enough to match her. By thirty-seven, she landed a job at a prestigious firm—and met the director, Henry. He was everything she’d imagined: refined, charming, with a dimpled chin and perfect features.
Henry was the first man who truly interested her. It didn’t matter that he was married with two children. She’d long wanted a child—a beautiful one, like herself—and marriage no longer mattered.
“So what if Henry’s married?” she thought. “I’ll have what I want.”
Charming him was easy. He’d noticed her beauty at once and invited her to dinner.
“Lucy, I’ve never met a woman as stunning as you,” he admitted. “A shame we didn’t meet sooner. But I’m married—I won’t leave my family. Still, I’d be glad if we saw each other now and then.”
“Henry, don’t overthink it,” Lucy said. “This is just fun—I’m not after your family.”
Soon, Lucy was pregnant. Henry helped financially, and for the first time, she understood happiness. She poured everything into her son, William—he became her entire world.
William grew up as handsome as he was clever. He aced school, won every competition, excelled in sports. Lucy swelled with pride.
William knew he was handsome but paid little attention to the girls who fancied him. None impressed him. Lucy worried—was he repeating her mistake?
“Don’t wait for a fairy-tale princess,” she wanted to say but held back, hoping he’d find someone worthy—but beautiful.
After university, William landed a prestigious job, quickly climbing to a managerial position. His future gleamed bright.
At nearly thirty, he called his mother.
“Mum, I’ve fallen in love. I’m marrying Emily. We’re coming to see you—she’s perfect, just what I’ve always wanted.”
“I’m happy for you, son. I’ll be waiting.”
But when they arrived, Lucy’s smile faltered. Emily was pretty but plain—no beauty.
“Hello, it’s lovely to meet you,” Emily said softly. “William’s told me so much about you—how beautiful you are.”
Lucy barely spoke at dinner, disheartened. How could William choose someone so ordinary?
After Emily tactfully stepped outside to let them say goodbye, Lucy confronted him.
“I don’t like your choice. There are so many stunning girls—why pick a plain one?”
“Mum, I won’t leave Emily. She’s kind, clever—the best! Just because she’s from a small town doesn’t matter. Neither was I.”
“Look at yourself, then at her! What do you see in her?”
“I love her. We’ve already filed for marriage.”
Lucy knew she’d lost.
Emily had a daughter, blossoming after childbirth. She returned to work, thrived, earned promotions. She and William adored each other and their little girl.
Lucy never warmed to her daughter-in-law, no matter her achievements or the granddaughter she bore. She still deemed Emily unworthy. Emily knew it—and so did William.
“Don’t mind Mother,” he’d reassure her. “What matters is we’re together, living our own life.”
Years passed. Their daughter grew, married. Lucy aged, retired, her health failing. Forgetful, she left the stove on, wandered off. After a hospital stay, the doctor insisted she couldn’t live alone.
William called Emily. “She’s being discharged—what do we do?”
“Bring her here,” Emily said at once. “We’ll care for her.”
They gave Lucy a bright room. Emily tended to her, though Lucy was often cruel, cursing, driving her away. But in time, she relented—what choice did she have? Emily even quit her job to care for her full-time.
Still, Lucy never thanked her.
Then, one day, lucid for a moment, Lucy looked at Emily with tears in her eyes.
“Forgive me, dear… for everything.”
Emily held her. “It’s all right. We love you.”
Lucy died that night, a faint smile on her lips.
