**No One Good Enough**
Mum just sighed heavily, watching her lovely daughter. Emily had always dreamed of a prince charming, refusing to settle for anything less.
“Emily, you live in a fantasy,” Mum said. “Look at all the decent lads around you—Tom and Harry from your class are good boys. They’re always waiting outside, asking to take you for a walk. Why won’t you give them a chance?”
“Mum, I don’t want a decent boy. I want someone handsome, and there’s no one here worthy of me. Just look at me—do you see any boy in this village who matches me?” Emily straightened her back, her slender frame even more striking.
Mum shook her head. “Love isn’t about looks, love. Pretty fades—happiness lasts.”
But Emily had heard that all her life. She never believed it. Growing up, she’d been showered with praise—her big blue eyes, her sweet smile. In school, she was the prettiest, the one all the girls envied. She didn’t see how it could ever backfire.
Mum tried to warn her. “Handsome men don’t always make good husbands.” But Emily was sure they did. She’d been an average student, barely scraping through college. The boys there weren’t up to her standards either.
“I’m not settling for some plain Tom or Harry,” she’d say whenever Mum brought up marriage.
Eventually, the local lads stopped trying. By thirty, Emily was still alone while her friends married and had children. She moved to the city, convinced her perfect match waited there.
At thirty-seven, she landed a job at a prestigious firm. The director, James, was everything she’d dreamed of—charming, well-spoken, with a dimpled chin. Never mind that he was married.
“I’ll have him anyway,” she thought.
It wasn’t hard. James invited her to dinner, lavishing her with compliments. “I wish I’d met you sooner,” he said. “But I can’t leave my family. Still, I’d love to see you now and then.”
Emily agreed. She didn’t care about his family—she just wanted a beautiful child. Soon, she was pregnant. James helped financially, and for once, she was happy.
Her son, Oliver, was everything—handsome, brilliant, excelling in school and sports. Emily adored him, pouring her life into his.
But Oliver, now grown, seemed uninterested in girls. Emily worried. “What if he makes my mistake?”
Then, at thirty, he called. “Mum, I’m in love. We’re coming to visit—Lucy’s perfect.”
Emily prepared eagerly, but when Oliver arrived, she froze. Lucy was plain, ordinary. Over dinner, Emily barely spoke.
Later, she confronted Oliver. “You could have anyone. Why her?”
“Mum, I love her. She’s kind, smart—the best!”
Time passed. Lucy blossomed, thriving at work. They had a daughter, built a happy life.
But Emily never warmed to her.
Years later, aging and ill, Emily moved in with them. Lucy cared for her tirelessly, even quitting her job. Emily, stubborn, rarely thanked her.
One evening, weak but lucid, Emily whispered, “Forgive me, love.”
Lucy hugged her. “It’s alright. We love you.”
That night, Emily passed—a faint smile on her lips.
*Pride blinds. Beauty fades. Kindness remains.*
