It was to be a different life.
At twenty, Emily never imagined what lay ahead. She was at university, deeply in love with James, dreaming of their weddingafter all, they had already begun discussing it.
James was older, already done with his military service when he appeared at her schools autumn ball. Shed been in sixth form. Shed never forget the first time she saw him. They lived in the same town, even attended the same school, though hed graduated years before.
*Whos this handsome bloke?* The thought flashed through Emilys mind when she spotted him.
Hed walked into the hall, scanning the crowd for familiar faces, then caught her eye and smiled. She fell for him instantly. How could she not? He wasnt like the other lads.
“Hi, Im James,” hed said, stepping closer. She blushed, cheeks turning pink. “Fancy a dance?” He took her by the waist, and they spun across the floor.
“Emily”
She barely felt her feet touch the ground, as if she were floating. James held her steady, guiding her effortlessly, every movement in perfect sync.
“Emily, eh? Youre a natural,” he grinned.
He stayed by her side all evening, and by the end, theyd agreed hed walk her home. They wandered the streets for hours, reluctant to part, but Emily knew she had to goher mum would worry.
James never let life grow dull. After school, Emily stayed local for uni while he worked. He had a way of lifting spirits, his cheerful energy infectious. He had mates everywhere, and soon, Emily was part of his worldweddings, pubs, weekend trips.
He brought her roses, even in December. Every date felt like an eventcosy cafés, countryside drives, bonfires with friends.
In her third year, he surprised her.
“Booked us a ski trip for New Years. Got you lessons and everything.”
“James, youre brilliant!” She flung her arms around his neck, then faltered. “WaitIm terrified of slopes! You knew that!” She burst out laughing.
The trip was unforgettable. Emily took to skiing faster than she expected, loving every second, dreading the day it ended. Then came Mothers Day. James arrived with two bouquets.
“Happy Mothers Day,” he said, handing one to Emilys mum, the other to her. “These are for you, love.” He kissed her cheek, and she melted at the sight of the roses.
“James, this is too much,” her mum fretted. “Theyre pricey.”
“Worth it,” he shrugged. “Tom and Dave are heading up north for workasked me to join. High-voltage line repairs, pays well. Ill save up for the wedding. Maybe a car, too.”
“I dont want you to go,” Emily blurted.
“Just three, four months tops. Well call. I want to give you a proper wedding. You want that too, yeah?”
“I do, but Id take a registry office if it meant you stayed.”
But James had made up his mind. He left with his mates. The pay was good; they called often.
Then, one day in lectures, a sudden unease gripped herbut it passed. Theyd spoken just the night before, so she didnt expect a call. Yet that evening, her heart wouldnt settle. She rang him herselfunusual, since he always called first. Silence. Her pulse hammered, pain throbbing at her temples.
*Why isnt he answering?* She tried five times. Nothing.
She dialled Dave instead, relief flooding her when he picked up.
“Dave, wheres James?”
His voice was hollow. “James is gone.”
“What dyou mean, *gone*?” The line went dead.
“Mum!” She screamed, collapsing into sobs.
What followed was a nightmare. Later, she learneda live wire, a fatal shock. Jamess mother, Margaret, withered by grief, barely spoke. She waited while his father and younger brother, Oliver, brought him home. The funeral passed in a blur, grief swallowing everything.
Emily moved through the days numb. She visited Margaret often, sitting in silence or accompanying her to the grave. Oddly, Margaret clung to her, insisting she stay close, especially over summer break. They visited churches, drank tea.
“Emily, lets go to the seaside,” Margaret proposed one day.
Emily agreed, though she didnt understand why. James was gone, yet his mother wouldnt let go. Even her own mum urged her to move on. Still, they went for a week.
Mornings were spent on the beach, afternoons in their room. Margaret seemed calmer. Emily scrolled through her phone, too restless to nap.
Outside, life carried onseagulls shrieking, cars humming, children laughing. Emily stood on the promenade, staring at the horizon where sea met sky. A distant ferry shrank to a speck.
“Beautiful, but so sad,” a voice said beside her.
She turned, ready to snapbut hesitated. There was something familiar about him, though she couldnt place it.
“Beautiful things arent meant to be happy,” she murmured.
“I disagree,” he said. “Names Henry.”
“Emily.”
They exchanged a few words before she walked off. Henry watched her go. Hed noticed her days agoalways with that older woman, never smiling.
Two days before leaving, while Margaret napped, Emily slipped out to the shops. At the exit, Henry appeared, grabbing her bags.
“Let me help.”
“Fine,” she said.
“Emily, talk to me. Ive got questions.” He nodded to a café nearby.
“I leave tomorrow night,” she said.
“Im heading back in three days.” He paused. “Where dyou live?”
She named her town. His eyes widened.
“No way. Me too.”
Hed graduated from her uni, now worked at the councils design office. Singlehis last relationship had ended badly, hence the solo trip. Then hed seen her.
She told him about James, about Margaret. He frowned.
“Whys she so attached? Usually, parents well, they dont keep their sons girl around.”
“I dont know. I dont want to hurt her.”
They swapped numbers, promising to meet back home.
Returning, she found Margaret agitated.
“Where were you?”
“Out.”
The weight of Margarets presence grew suffocating. Her own mum was rightthis wasnt healthy. That night, as they packed, Emily mentioned starting fresh back home.
Margarets gaze turned odd. “Another life Of course. Youre young. I just thought maybe you were carrying his child. Or Olivers a good lad. You two might”
Emily recoiled. “No! God, no!” She broke down sobbingthe first time since the funeral. But afterward, she felt lighter.
*Home,* her pulse thrummed. *Maybe Henrys a sign.*
The new term began. She saw Henry regularly. One day, she visited Jamess grave alone.
“Goodbye, James,” she whispered. “You made me happy. But I have to live now.”
She walked to the car where Henry waited.
A different life, indeed.
