Lydia stood outside Simon’s flat, nervously gripping the handle of her bag. Two and a half years ago, she’d walked out on him, slamming the door behind her, convinced that Paul—his wealthy friend with the flashy car—would give her the life she dreamed of. But Paul wasn’t who she thought, and now Lydia had decided to come back. “Simon always loved me,” she thought. “He’ll take me back—where else would he go?” She pressed the bell, smoothed her hair, and forced a smile. The door opened, and Simon’s surprised “Well, look who it is! What brings you here?” made her feel bolder.
“Guess who’s back,” she grinned, catching the smell of roast potatoes and sausages. “Cooking dinner? Smells amazing.” Simon frowned. “Back where? Here?” She nodded, but his next question threw her: “We’ve already eaten. Sorry, not inviting you in.” “*We*?” Her chest tightened. “Who’s ‘we’?” Then a woman stepped out of the kitchen. Lydia squinted—and gasped. It was Olivia, her old friend, the one she’d shared bubbly with while plotting how to leave Simon.
Lydia and Simon had married five years ago, but their marriage was nothing but rows. She wanted the high life—fancy restaurants, holidays abroad, designer dresses. Simon, an engineer at a factory, earned modestly, though he tried his best. His parents brought groceries from their village to save money, but Lydia scoffed: “I don’t want their eggs and cheese!” She blew her own wages on clothes and a new phone on credit, then demanded more from Simon. “You’re dirt poor,” she’d snap. “Why did I even marry you?” He’d ask her to tidy the flat, but she’d refuse: “It’s *your* place—I’m not the housekeeper.”
Everything changed when she fell for Paul. Charming, loaded, he wined and dined her, promising the world. Olivia had warned her: “Lyds, Paul’s a player—think this through!” But Lydia didn’t listen. She packed her bags, tossed Simon the keys, and left with Paul without so much as a goodbye. Olivia stayed behind, cleaning up the mess Lydia left. Lydia had laughed then: “Take Simon if you want him—he’s yours!” She never dreamed those words would come true.
Life with Paul wasn’t a fairy tale. He was generous but demanded obedience, and Lydia put up with his “nights out” until she couldn’t anymore. Two years later, she heard Simon got a promotion, bought a car, and stayed single. “He’s waiting for me,” she decided, scribbling a note to Paul and leaving. But now, standing in the doorway, she stared at Olivia, who simply said, “Hey, mate. Why the shock? You gave him to me.”
Lydia’s cheeks burned. “Are you two married?” Simon nodded. “Yeah, Lydia. And we’re happy. What did you expect?” She faltered. “I thought… maybe we could—” Olivia cut in gently: “Lyds, you’ve got your parents. They’ll be glad to see you. But we’ve got things to do. Take care.” The door shut, leaving Lydia alone on the stairwell, clutching her bag.
She remembered Olivia cleaning that flat, baking pies, visiting her gran. Back then, Lydia mocked her “plainness,” but now she saw it—Olivia gave Simon what she never could: warmth, comfort, love. Lydia thought of going back to Paul, but the note she’d left burned that bridge. Her parents? They’d drifted apart, hurt by her choices. She sank onto the bench outside, feeling her world collapse. “What have I done?” she whispered. But no answer came.
Upstairs, Simon and Olivia set the table. A month later, they welcomed twins, and Simon’s parents, adoring their new daughter-in-law, couldn’t have been prouder. Lydia? She was left with nothing, full of regrets. Life, just like Olivia warned, doesn’t forgive those who toss away what’s real for a dream.
