Guardian Angel
Milly never knew her parents. Her father abandoned her mother while she was pregnant, and after that she vanished from Millys world. Her mother died when Milly was just one year old. A sudden diagnosis of cancer left her life flickering out like a candle.
Gran Doris, her mothers mother, took Milly under her wing. Doriss own husband had died when she was still young, and she devoted the rest of her days to her daughter and granddaughter. From the first moment they met, a tight, almost telepathic bond formed between Milly and Gran Doris. The old woman could read Millys wishes before the girl even voiced them, and they always understood each other without words.
Everyone loved Gran Doris from neighbours on the culdesac to Millys teachers at school. She never gossiped, never judged, and people often came to her for advice. Milly felt blessed to have such a grandmother.
Millys own love life was a tangle of missed chances. School, university, a job that kept pulling her in different directions she was always rushing somewhere. Suitors appeared, but none felt right. Gran Doris would chide her, Oh, Milly dear, you flit from one lad to another; havent you met a decent bloke yet? Youre my beautiful, clever girl. Milly would joke back, yet deep down she knew she was approaching thirty and should think about a family.
Gran Doris died without warning. One night she simply didnt wake; her heart stopped while she slept. Milly was stunned, unable to accept the loss. She kept going to work, to the supermarket, moving through the days on autopilot. At home, only the cat Misty waited for her. Loneliness settled over her like a heavy fog.
One afternoon Milly was on a commuter train, reading a novel. Across the aisle sat a tidylooking man in his early forties, impeccably dressed. He studied her with a curious intensity, and for some reason Milly found it comforting.
He struck up a conversation about books, a topic Milly could discuss for hours. Just like in Love Actually, she thought, smiling at the coincidence. When the train pulled into the station, she didnt want to leave. His name was Alex, and he suggested they continue the chat over a coffee at the little café nearby. Milly agreed with a bright nod.
From that moment a whirlwind romance spiralled around them. They called and texted every day, meeting in person only occasionally. Alex was often tied up with work, and he kept his past, family and job details vague. Milly didnt mind; for the first time she felt genuinely happy with a man.
One Saturday Alex invited Milly to a restaurant, hinting that the evening would be special. She sensed a proposal looming. Joy lifted her to the seventh heaven. Finally, she would have a husband, children, a proper family just like everyone else. How sad Gran Doris wont see this, she whispered to herself.
Later, lying on the sofa, Milly tried to decide what to wear for the big day. She preferred shopping online, so she scrolled through a mobile app, picking outfits with growing excitement, until sleep took her.
In the dream she saw Gran Doris glide into the room in her favourite dress, settle on the sofa and stroke Millys hair. Gran, youre not here how did you get in? Milly asked, startled yet delighted. Milly dear, Ive never gone anywhere. Im always right beside you, seeing and hearing everything, even when you think Im not. I must warn you: dont trust that man, hes bad. Listen to your grandmother, the spectre said before dissolving into thin air.
Milly awoke, bewildered, the memory of her grandmothers warning still echoing. She returned to the app, still unable to choose a dress, a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest. Why had Gran Doris called Alex a villain when Milly barely knew him? The dream felt too vivid to ignore, yet her rational mind dismissed it. She fell back asleep, restless.
DayX drew near. The dress remained unchosen, her hands trembling, Gran Doriss words looping over and over. Milly had never trusted prophetic dreams before; they were foreign to her. But Gran Doris and she shared that uncanny spiritual link perhaps the old woman truly saw beyond the veil.
Saturday arrived. Milly stepped into the restaurant in a plain dress, her mood flat. Alex noticed instantly. Everything alright, love? he asked. Yes, all fine, she replied, forcing a smile. He tried to lighten the atmosphere with jokes, but the air felt heavy. At the end of the meal, like a scene from an old film, he knelt and presented a small box with a ring.
A rush of dizziness seized Milly, a ringing filled her ears, and she glimpsed Gran Doris watching from a window, silent and still. Milly understood it as a sign. Im sorry, Alex, I cant, she began, but the words tangled. What did I do wrong? Alex snapped, his eyes flashing with fury. Fine, go sit with your cat then, you useless hen! He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Milly sat frozen, the man she had adored turned into a stranger shouting insults. It felt like a nightmare, yet the sting of his words lingered.
The next day Milly visited her old schoolmate Andrew at his office. He worked for the local police department and often helped former classmates. Milly asked him to run a background check on Alex, providing a photo and some details.
Andrew called later. Milly, Im sorry to tell you this Alex is a conartist. He targets lonely women, marries them, then convinces them to take out huge loans for his supposed business, claims the money is for the family, and later evicts them and files for divorce. Hes been convicted several times. You were lucky to get out when you did.
The revelation hit Milly like a cold wind. How could Gran Doris have known? It seemed a miracle, a final act of protection from beyond. Thank you, Gran, Milly whispered, feeling a warm presence beside her.
She stopped by a shop, bought groceries and cat food for Misty, and walked home with a steadier step, reassured that she was not alone; her grandmother lingered somewhere, watching over her.
They say the spirits of loved ones linger, becoming guardian angels who shield us from misfortune. If only we could believe that this is how it truly works
