**But He’s the Real Deal**
“Emily, how on earth do you raise a girl like that?” Marina never missed a chance to scold her sister. “She’s a proper young lady, not some rough-and-tumble lad!”
Emily and Marina were sisters, both long married with children. Emily had a daughter, Alice, and a son, while Marina had just her precious little girl, Lucy.
They often met up—usually with Marina and Lucy visiting Emily’s place, since Emily lived in a lovely cottage with a well-kept garden, perfect for sitting in the shed or letting the kids play. Marina, meanwhile, was stuck in a flat.
Marina was convinced her Lucy was brighter, prettier, and more talented than Alice, though Alice was a year older.
“Emily, your Alice is up that tree again—what sort of behaviour is that?” Marina huffed, forever trying to steer her sister’s parenting choices.
“What’s the harm?” Emily shrugged. “She’s a child—let her explore.”
“But climbing trees is for boys, not girls!” Marina argued, though Emily just smiled.
The cousins got on well enough, though Lucy probably secretly wished she could scramble up trees too. But her mother watched like a hawk. None of that nonsense was allowed.
Alice never envied Lucy, despite Marina’s belief that she ought to. As a kid, Alice couldn’t have cared less. She was too busy being fast, fearless, and everywhere at once.
She was the ringleader in a skirt, matching the boys at every turn—scaling fences, scrapping if needed, even sneaking into orchards for apples. Dolls bored her; hair ribbons and frilly dresses even more so. Her favourite place was her dad’s garage, sorting spanners and bolts, though he’d groan, “Love, stop tidying—I’ll never find anything after you!” But when he asked for a 16mm wrench, she’d hand it over in a flash, earning his praise.
Lucy was Alice’s opposite—dressed like a porcelain doll in frothy dresses, pristine socks with tassels, and enormous bows. Alice hated those dresses—all ruffles and flounces.
Marina’s shrieks were constant:
“Lucy, don’t touch the sandpit—your socks! Step away from the door—there’s a draft! Don’t pick up that apple—it’s filthy!” Endless “don’ts.”
Alice pitied her cousin. No wonder Lucy was dull to play with—Marina never let her leave the garden.
“Aunt Marina, let Lucy come with me—no one’ll hurt her!” Alice tried.
But Marina just glared. “Absolutely not.”
At school, Alice ran track, played volleyball, even took up kickboxing—which made Marina’s hair stand on end.
“Since when do girls do *that*?” she’d gasp.
“Let her do what she wants,” Emily would say.
Meanwhile, Lucy was shoved into piano lessons, ballroom dancing, even art class—though she had no talent and quit.
At university, Alice met Kevin at kickboxing. He wasn’t classically handsome, but he had a grin that won her over.
“Alright?” he said. “Been watching you—you’re brilliant. I’m Kevin. You’re Alice—already asked around.”
She laughed. His easy charm disarmed her.
“You don’t go here, do you?”
“Nah, I’m a mechanic. Studying part-time at automotive college.”
They hit it off—training together, walks in the park, cinema trips. Shared interests glued them tight.
“Mum, Dad, I’m bringing Kevin round tomorrow. Met his mum already—time you met him.”
“Fair enough,” they said.
Kevin bonded instantly with Alice’s dad—garage talk, cars, football. Her mum took longer, but even she warmed up.
By second year, Alice announced, “We’re renting a place together.”
Emily fretted. “Love, focus on your studies!”
But her dad backed them. He liked Kevin.
Marina, however, was scandalised.
“Emily! How could you let Alice *live* with a boy? It’s outrageous!”
Emily just shrugged.
Then a year later, Lucy moved in with Max—older, polished, studying for his second degree. Marina bragged endlessly: “Such a catch! Handsome, clever, cultured, *rich*.”
At Lucy’s birthday, Alice and Kevin were invited. Alice dreaded the Max-worship but went anyway.
Max was exactly as described—charming, witty, pouring wine, showering compliments.
“Lucky Lucy,” Alice thought, eyeing quiet Kevin.
But after an hour, Max’s chatter became a headache.
“Good lord, he never shuts up,” Alice groaned internally.
Then Marina left, and Max’s polish vanished. He staggered to bed, bellowing, “*Lucy!* Water! I’m gonna be sick!”
“Shouldn’t have drunk so much,” Lucy snapped.
“Shut it, you nag!” Max slurred.
Alice gaped. This was their normal?
Max reappeared, chugged a beer, then lurched to the loo before collapsing, snoring.
“Right, we’re off,” Alice said hastily.
At Max’s birthday, history repeated. Charming till he drank, then—gone.
“*What* a charmer,” Alice thought dryly, squeezing Kevin’s hand. Not a looker, not smooth—but solid, kind, *real*.
Alice and Kevin married soon after, expecting a son. Lucy? She dumped her “perfect” Max.
**But he’s the real deal.**
