Waiting for Something
Emily sat on the bench in the garden of her family’s home, nibbling on a Bounty bar—her favourite chocolate since childhood. Their house was spacious, two storeys, built quickly because her father was a builder. Emily had an older sister, Charlotte, who was seventeen. The girls were close, and Charlotte, ever the protective elder sister, kept an eye on Emily, helping—and sometimes even defending—her when needed.
Emily finished the chocolate and sighed heavily. A strange new weight had settled over her—she had fallen in love. At nearly fifteen, it shouldn’t have been a shock—girls fell in love at twelve or thirteen, didn’t they?
“It’d be one thing if I fancied a boy from school,” she muttered. “Like Oliver from the year above—the one all the girls sigh over, even the sixth formers, because he’s tall and handsome. But no, I had to go and fall for my dad’s best mate, William. What am I supposed to do?”
She envied her friends, who gushed about their crushes on boys, not grown men.
Just then, their guests arrived—Uncle William, his wife Sophie, and their daughter Lily, two years younger than Emily. Their families had been close for generations—since their grandparents’ time. Now, Emily’s father and William were best friends, their wives got on well, and the bond remained unbroken.
Emily knew Aunt Sophie was kind, decent, and devoted to her husband—which only made things worse. She didn’t understand what was happening to her until Charlotte, one evening, grabbed her wrist and dragged her off to the garden shed. It was their mother’s birthday, and the families were celebrating.
“Emily, what on earth is going on?” Charlotte asked, tense.
“Nothing—what do you mean?” Emily blinked innocently.
“Are you in love with William?” Charlotte’s eyes widened in horror.
“So what if I am? Jealous?” Emily shot back—then burst into tears.
She’d loved Uncle William for three months, ever since his birthday party at their cottage. He’d been so happy, so alive—she’d watched, mesmerised, as he danced with her mother. But she wished it had been her in his arms, laughing, joking. The guilt was unbearable.
And now clever Charlotte had figured it out. Emily was mortified—she’d thought no one knew. At first, Charlotte was annoyed, but then she pulled her sister close and whispered, “Oh, you silly thing. It’s alright—this’ll pass.”
Emily’s anger melted. Charlotte wiped her tears—but then their mother appeared, alarmed. “Emily, love, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Mum,” Emily sniffled.
“Just a wasp,” Charlotte lied smoothly. “Nearly stung her in the face.”
“Ah, right. Be careful—they’re everywhere this summer,” their mother said before walking off.
Time passed, but Emily’s feelings for William didn’t fade. She did well in school, had friends, lads flirted with her—she was pretty, after all—but she never returned their interest. She went to school dances, accepted Valentine’s cards, even went on dates in sixth form. But in her heart, Uncle William remained her knight.
By her A-levels, she’d grown up—mostly.
“I need to get over this,” she told herself. “First loves are always doomed—everyone says so.” But the ache lingered. “It’s like I’m living two lives. One with family, friends, school—the other with him. Charlotte said it’d pass, but it hasn’t.”
University loomed. Psychology had crossed her mind, but she’d always dreamed of being a doctor. That dream won out. She aced her A-levels and got into med school without a hitch.
Then Lily—William’s daughter, the one Emily resented for having what she couldn’t—called.
“Emily? Mum’s birthday’s on Saturday—we’re celebrating at the cottage. You and your parents should come.”
“Right. Thanks, Lily. I’ll be there,” Emily replied absently.
Aunt Sophie was a brilliant hostess—her cooking was legendary. Everyone adored their gatherings. William, meanwhile, was the king of the barbecue—his kebabs never burned.
That evening, after too much food, Emily slipped outside. Autumn air cooled her flushed skin. She wandered to the garden bench, admiring the still-blooming flowers—late bloomers, clinging to life.
“Your favourite,” a voice said behind her, startling her.
William stood there, holding a plate of raspberry cheesecake and a cup of tea.
“Oh—thanks. Just put it on the table—I’ll drop it otherwise,” she stammered, blushing. “How’d you know I like raspberry?”
“Noticed somewhere, I suppose.” He smiled. “I notice a lot of things.” Then, sensing her discomfort, he left.
“What else has he noticed?” Emily’s pulse raced. “Does he know?”
Lily joined her. “Mum’s amazing, isn’t she? She sent Dad out with that—knew you’d love it.”
“Yeah. Really good,” Emily mumbled.
They chatted—Charlotte, now married and living in Leeds, hadn’t come. Emily had no interest in settling down yet, though she dated. She’d even had a couple of serious relationships—one fiancé, even—but always backed out last minute.
Nothing ever felt right.
By her final year of med school, news came—Aunt Sophie was ill. Terminal.
Emily felt a stab of guilt. “Did I somehow cause this?” But she pushed the thought away. “That’s ridiculous.”
She grieved for them all—especially when Lily confessed Sophie had refused treatment. “She said, ‘Why drag it out?’ Dad’s devastated.”
A year later, Sophie was gone. At the funeral, Emily watched a broken William and weeping Lily.
Life moved on. Emily graduated top of her class, became a cardiologist. She understood heartbreak—literally.
Three years later, on her twenty-eighth birthday, as she finished her clinic shift, a man named Roman was her last appointment.
A knock—then William stood in the doorway, holding flowers.
“Roman?” she asked automatically, checking her list.
“William,” he corrected softly. “No more ‘uncle,’ alright?”
She stepped back as he entered, but he took her hand and kissed it. “We need to talk. And—happy birthday.”
Over coffee, he spoke more than she did. Then, finally: “I’d like to ask your parents for your hand.”
Emily hesitated. “I need time.”
“Of course. But not too much.”
At home, she called Charlotte. “What do I do?”
“Say yes. He’s always looked at you differently—I noticed.”
“You think Mum knows?”
“Probably. Lily won’t mind—she’s in Germany now. Dad’s clueless, though—men always are.” Charlotte paused. “Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s all that matters.”
She said yes. William was overjoyed—even Lily approved, flying in for the wedding, happy for them.
Emily was happy too. At last, she understood what she’d been waiting for all along.
