**Yielding to Love**
*—Katherine, think again! Your chosen one is eighteen, and you’re twenty-six! What a perfect match! What can he possibly offer you? Endless trouble, that’s what. Your colleagues will laugh at you—a teacher falling for her student. Where has that ever been seen? Resign before it’s too late, or they’ll sack you for misconduct,* my mother painted the bleakest picture.
I wanted to howl. But it had happened—Oliver and I had fallen in love. Yes, he was much younger, still a student. But in a year, he’d finish school. We’d marry. The age gap wouldn’t matter then. I just had to hold on a little longer. I couldn’t bring myself to leave him. Oliver was my first love. Mum exaggerated, of course, claiming *everyone* knew about us. We’d been careful, meeting in secret.
Still, I knew word would spread like wildfire through the school—only the deaf wouldn’t hear the gossip. Yet I couldn’t help myself. I burned in his arms, hung on his every glance. I was setting a terrible example. As a teacher, I was meant to sow wisdom and kindness.
Mum was a teacher too, and to her, my actions were inexcusable. I regretted confiding in her. No comfort came from her. How many times had I imagined leaving Oliver? Countless. But the moment I saw him, my heart stopped, my breath caught—I loved him, damn the consequences. Rules meant nothing.
With Oliver, I felt like a foolish girl again. He was brilliant, athletic, wise beyond his years. His classmates trailed after him, and though I never showed it, jealousy gnawed at me. My heart swung between joy and dread.
Then came graduation. Oliver went off to university, and I… I was pregnant.
Mum took one look at me and sighed. *—Well, you’ve really done it now. What next? Getting rid of it? Should’ve listened to me, you silly girl.*
*—No. I won’t,* I said.
Our Emma was born. Oliver didn’t rush to marry me. Studies came first. Then he started pulling away—missing calls, avoiding me.
University life, new friends… In the end, we split. I crashed back to earth, alone with my daughter. And who could I tell? A romance with a student? The whispers would never end. My heart went numb.
Mum, seeing my misery, tried to comfort me. *—I can tell things fell apart with Oliver. Don’t fret, Katherine. Even ashes hold embers. Things will work out.*
Two years passed. Then came *the bloke with the dog*. We met in the park—me with the pram, him with his dachshund puppy, Baxter. We talked, laughed… Alex was kind, warm, funny—a light in the grey.
With him, love felt easy. Mum babysat Emma and Baxter while we snuck off to films and cafés. *—Go on, have fun while you can,* she’d say, *I’ll mind the little ones.*
Soon, Emma and I moved in with Alex. No storms, no doubts—just quiet happiness.
Then Mum called, flustered. *—Katherine, Oliver was here. Shouting on the landing, demanding your address. I was frightened—I gave it to him. So much for your golden boy—all velvet, but with a sting.*
*—It’s fine, Mum. We’ll sort it,* I lied, my pulse racing. Why now?
Oliver turned up soon after. *—Hello, Katherine. You’ve landed on your feet, I see. A new man raising my child… Who gave you the right?*
*—Oliver, where’s it written Emma’s yours? You walked away. What claim do you have?*
His tone softened. *—Kate, I didn’t mean… Maybe we could try again? We loved each other. Don’t you remember?*
*—I remembered for too long. Alex helped me forget. Thanks for the lesson, Oliver. You lost me—you don’t get me back. Goodbye.* I shut the door firmly.
When Alex came home, he saw my tension. *—Something happen, love?*
I told him.
*—Don’t fret. He’s just lonely. Call your husband to dinner,* he teased, pulling me to the kitchen.
*—Husband? My passport’s blank,* I smirked.
*—Kate, marry me.* He dropped to one knee.
*—Scared my ex would steal me away?* I laughed.
*—Terrified. So?* His eyes were serious.
*—I’ll think about it,* I teased, knowing he’d spoil me rotten.
We married that summer. Alex adopted Emma. A year later, our family grew—little Henry arrived. We built a warm, happy home.
Oliver never bothered us again. Rumor said he married a classmate, but she left him with a three-month-old and ran off with some army officer.
Years slipped by unnoticed. Alex and I have silver in our hair now. Emma married an Italian and took Baxter’s grandson with her. *—At least one family member to keep me company abroad.*
Only Henry worries me now. Twenty-two, at university, madly in love with his literature professor—who seems to feel the same.
History repeating itself. Should I stop him? But I know better—love like that can’t be reasoned with. He’s as reckless as I was. Worse, she’s married with two daughters. What can I say? Who listens to advice? We all learn the hard way.
*—Henry, it’s your choice. Just don’t hurt her. Be a man. Think hard—this isn’t a game.* That’s all I could offer.
*—Mum, you and Dad are my best example. Thanks for not lecturing,* he said, kissing my cheek.
No big wedding. Professor Clara and Henry signed the papers quietly. In time, little Rose was born.
Love will have its way.
