Evelyn never once considered asking Simon to move in with her. Dating was one thingliving together was entirely another. That Saturday, she waited for him as usual, expecting another pleasant stroll. But when she opened the door, her breath caught in her throatthere he stood, two large suitcases in hand.
Evelyn sank into her armchair, flipping through photos on her phone. There they were, feeding ducks in Hyde Park. Another of them walking along the Thames. And that one, their autumn trip to the countryside foraging for mushrooms. Six months had slipped by unnoticed.
Theyd met on a dating site. She was sixty-one, he sixty-three. Both divorced, their children grown and living independently.
Simon had charmed her instantlycultured, well-read, with a dry wit. He wasnt looking for a mother for his kids or a housekeeper. Just companionship with someone interesting.
They met two or three times a weekthe theatre, gallery exhibitions, cosy cafés, long walks through London. Weekends at her friends cottage in the Cotswolds. Evelyn adored this easy, commitment-free closeness.
“Evelyn, tell mehow do you spend your days?” Simon had asked early on.
“Quietly. Peacefully. Ive lived alone five yearsgrown used to it.”
“Dont you ever get lonely?”
“Sometimes. But I have friends. My daughters visit. And nowtheres you.”
“Thats lovely to hear.”
After his divorce, Simon rented a cramped flat in an ageing building. He grumbled about the landladyno repairs, yet rent hikes every year.
“But what can you do?” hed say. “No property of my own. After the split, the ex kept everythingflat her parents bought. Try proving I paid for the renovations.”
“Ever thought of buying somewhere?”
“Where would I get that kind of money?”
Evelyn understood. Her three-bedroom in Kensington had taken a lifetime to afford. With her daughters long gone, space wasnt an issue.
Yet the idea of inviting Simon to live with her had never crossed her mind. Dating was one thingcohabitation another.
That Saturday, when she opened the door to find him with suitcases, her stomach dropped.
“Simonwhats happened?”
“Evelyn, may I come in? Ill explain.”
They moved to the living room. He left the luggage in the hall and sat on the sofa.
“The landladys selling up. Gave me a week to clear out.”
“And now?”
“Nowhere to go. Cant find another flat straight awaycant afford it.”
She saw where this was heading.
“Evelyn, Ive been thinkingweve a good thing going. Six months together, we know each other. Maybe its time we tried living together?”
“Together?”
“Yes. Youve spacethree bedrooms. Im not after a free ride; Ill contributegroceries, bills.”
“Simon, weve never even discussed this.”
“Why discuss it in advance? Lifes handed us the solution.”
Evelyn felt a knot of panic. She wasnt ready for this.
“I need time to think.”
“Think about what? We love each other.”
“Love and living together arent the same.”
“Why not? At our age, we should be decisive.”
“Decisive about what?”
“Our future. If were dating, we should be together.”
Her eyes flicked to the suitcases. Hed decided for herbrought his things, presented it as fact.
“And if I say no?”
“No to happiness?”
“No to someone turning up uninvited with luggage.”
“Evelyn, dont be angry. I didnt mean harmcircumstances forced my hand.”
“Circumstances dont forcepeople create them.”
“Meaning?”
“You shouldve spoken to me firstbefore packing your life into suitcases.”
Simon fell silent, weighing her words.
“Fine. Lets talk now. Im proposing we live together.”
“And Im refusing.”
“Why?”
“Because I like my solitude. I enjoy our timebut I dont want to share my home.”
“But why? Were perfect for each other.”
“For dates, walks, holidaysnot domesticity.”
“Whats the difference?”
“The difference isdaily life. Habits, routines, compromises.”
“So? Wed adjust.”
“Thats just itI dont want to adjust. Im happy as I am.”
Simon looked crushed.
“What if I proposed properly? Marriage?”
“Why?”
“Why? To do things rightmake it proper.”
“Simon, a wedding ring changes nothing. I still wouldnt want to live together.”
“Then whats the point of us?”
“The same as always. We meet, we talk, we enjoy each other.”
“And then?”
“Then we keep meeting.”
“Thats not serious!”
“Why not? It works for me.”
“It doesnt for me. I want stability.”
“What stability?” she asked, sitting opposite him.
“The usual kind. A home. Waking up together, making plans.”
“I dont want daily breakfasts with anyone. Or to fit my life around someone elses plans.”
“But youre alone!”
“Im not. Ive my daughters, my friendsand you. Solitude and loneliness arent the same.”
“I dont see the difference.”
“The difference is choice. Right now, I choose when and with whom I engage. Live together, and that choice vanishes.”
“Evelyn, at sixty, we must thinkwholl be there in old age?”
“I do think. And it neednt be a husband.”
“Who then?”
“My daughters. A carer. Social services. There are options.”
“Thats not the same!”
“Not to you. To me, its enough.”
Simon stood, pacing the room.
“Soyoud have me keep renting, seeing you weekends?”
“Id have you live as you please. And meetwhen we both want to.”
“And if I cant afford rent?”
“Thats your concern, not mine.”
“Thats cruel, Evelyn.”
“Honest. Your living situation isnt my responsibility.”
“But were together!”
“Dating. So? That doesnt make me accountable for your life.”
Simon sat back down, silent.
“If I find a flatwill we still see each other?”
“Of course. If we want to.”
“Until thencould I stay here?”
“No.”
“At all?”
“At all.”
He understood thenshe wouldnt bend. Collecting his cases, he moved to the door.
“SoIll need a new home. And a new relationship.”
“Perhaps.”
“Evelynwont you regret this?”
“No.”
He left. He never called again. Evelyn returned to her quiet, solitary rhythmat sixty, valuing peace over partnership, freedom over any company.
What would you have done? Share your thoughts below. Dont forget to like and comment.
