Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 55

Emily sat in the church library, staring at the stack of books she had neatly arranged earlier. Lost in thought, she wondered about the man she was going to marry, Mark Smith. She had met him twice now, but she still didn't know him well — what he liked, what he didn't like. All she knew about him was that he had money and was respected in the church.

What was he like? How many children would he want to have? She hoped for five, at least. She loved children and had always dreamed of becoming a mother, growing old with her husband while her children grew into meaningful people. She often admired young couples who came to church, particularly young mothers trying to manage their children during the service. She would often stare at them, but she never felt worthy of being like them.

Those women had grown up knowing their parents, but she hadn't. She had been picked up from the roadside, and despite her years as Mrs. Waterfield's daughter, she sometimes felt out of place. People would occasionally insult her, using her past against her, but she had to hold on. She had to keep her hope in the future.

She had a few crushes, but none of the boys ever approached her. Sometimes they would go off to college or get married to other girls in the church. In fact, they often preferred marrying outside the church and bringing those women into it rather than looking her way. Even her friends were all in relationships now, but she knew she had to wait for God's timing.

The elders of the church told her she was special, and that was the only thing keeping her in place.

She loved gardening, cooking, embroidery, knitting and sewing — all skills Mrs. Waterfield had taught her for her future home. Sometimes Emily would see little brooches for the children in church and share them with them.

Everyone loved her... but out of pity.

The people she held closest were her brothers, Christopher, William, and Miller. They were all Mrs. Waterfield's sons, whom Emily had met when they were babies and toddlers, right after she entered the house at five years old. It seemed that she had them at close intervals before her father's death. Back then, she didn't even know her own name. "Emily" was a name given to her by Mrs. Waterfield.

School hadn't been her strong suit. Reading was hard for her, and because things were tough, she had to drop out so her brothers could continue their education.

"You just need a good man to take care of you," Mrs. Waterfield would always say. "Help me earn income so we can finance your brothers' school."

And yes, they made her proud. They would come back with result sheets, all A's, especially Miller.

But Emily wanted that for herself too. This wasn't the medieval period anymore. She had seen girls receive best student awards at church and get medals, but Mrs. Waterfield always told her it didn't matter. Those girls would all get married, and it wouldn't matter what degrees they had gotten.

Mrs. Waterfield would take her to the doctors and request only female doctors when it came to anything involving her body.

Were those not women too? Emily's fascination with doctors, especially female doctors, never died. She had wanted to be one, but Mrs. Waterfield's words had gotten into her head so much, though something inside her fought it off.

Despite the regular visits to the doctors, Mrs. Waterfield would regularly ask Emily if she was still a virgin and would conduct her own checks.

"Don't be like these other girls. Keep yourself for your husband. He'll love you."

What really bothered Emily, though, was that she didn't feel attractive... at least she thought she wasn't. How could she ever get married? Would she fall in love? Would it be arranged?