Hatred
William stepped out of the office building and instinctively turned toward the car park before remembering he’d taken his car to the garage the day before. At first, he was annoyed, then decided it might be for the best. The thought of cramming into a sweltering, overcrowded bus during rush hour was unbearable, so he set off on foot. The only trouble was the rapidly darkening sky ahead. A thick black cloud loomed over the city, threatening thunder and a downpour.
William walked briskly, glancing up at the sky every few steps. A distant rumble of thunder rolled through the air. He knew there was a café somewhere nearby—he passed it every day—but he’d never gone in. Picking up his pace, he hurried toward it.
Just as he reached the café, heavy raindrops struck his head and shoulders. He barely made it through the door before a deafening crack of thunder shook the ground beneath him. Outside, the world turned dark as sheets of rain pounded the pavement.
Inside, the café was warm and dry. William scanned the room and spotted a few free tables. The door swung open again behind him, letting in the roar of the storm and two young women. He quickly claimed a table. The door kept opening as more people ducked in to escape the rain. The place grew noisy as everyone chattered about the storm.
A tall, solemn waitress approached him. She placed a menu in front of him and turned to leave, but he stopped her.
“Just the steak, no sides, a plain salad, and coffee,” he said shortly.
She scribbled in her notepad, collected the menu, and moved on to another table. The café was filling up fast, and she rushed to serve everyone. Outside, the storm raged on.
The bartender turned up the music to drown out the sound of the rain. William waited for his order, relieved he’d found shelter in time—glad, in fact, to be stuck here for a while. It gave him an excuse not to go home, not to face his wife’s questions about why he was late.
He’d gotten married eight years ago to a lively, pretty woman named Olivia. Before the wedding, everything had been perfect, just like the first months of their marriage. Then, suddenly, Olivia changed. Her best friend had married a wealthy businessman, and Olivia burned with envy. All she talked about were designer handbags, diamonds, and cosmetic procedures.
“Liv, you don’t need any of that. You’re young and beautiful.”
“I could be *more* beautiful,” she insisted.
One day, she hated the shape of her nose; the next, she complained about her thin lips or said her breasts were too small.
William tried to dissuade her from altering herself. He told her that silicone wouldn’t make her more attractive—if anything, it would have the opposite effect.
“You only say that because you can’t afford it,” she pouted.
The subject of children was off-limits.
“I’ll get fat, and you’ll stop loving me. When you’re making enough money, *then* we’ll talk about kids,” she snapped one day.
William didn’t argue. He loved her. An old university friend had been urging him to join his business, promising mountains of gold if William came on as a trusted partner. So he took the risk. At first, things were good. He even upgraded the car his father had given him—still secondhand, but a step up.
Then everything collapsed. The tax office uncovered irregularities and froze the company accounts. The business stalled, and rivals moved in, forcing a sale. William was left with nothing.
Olivia called him a failure. The constant arguments snuffed out his love for her. He returned to his old job, drifting through life, unable to muster the courage to leave.
***
A young couple slid into the booth beside him. William watched them, thinking he and Olivia had once been just as madly in love. Where had it all gone?
Shouts from the bar snapped him from his thoughts. Two young women were fending off a drunken man. They didn’t look like the usual type for this place—just students caught in the storm. The man grabbed one of them and dragged her toward the exit. Her friend tried to stop him, but he shoved her hard. She crashed into the bar, nearly falling. No one in the café moved to help.
William stood and blocked the man’s path. The brute glared at him.
“What’s your problem? Piss off.” Still gripping the girl, he threw a wild punch.
William dodged and swung back. The man dropped the girl and lunged at him. A scuffle broke out until William landed a solid hit, knocking the drunkard out cold. Someone yelled that they’d called the police.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” the girl tugged at William’s hand.
His head throbbed from the blows, and he tasted blood from a split lip. He didn’t argue, just followed her outside. The rain had eased to a drizzle. They turned a corner.
“There’s a pharmacy nearby. Let’s get you patched up.” He nodded. Inside, she bought antiseptic and carefully cleaned his cuts, covering them with plasters.
“Thank you,” William murmured.
They stood close. He caught the scent of her shampoo in her curly hair. *She’s beautiful,* he realized with surprise. *And her hands are so gentle, like butterfly wings.* Their eyes met, and she flushed.
Just then, her friend burst into the shop.
“There you are! I’ve called a cab. Come on, Kat.”
Kat glanced at William. He smiled. She hesitated, then followed her friend to the taxi. By the time he stepped outside, it was already pulling away.
He’d only walked a few steps when he heard, “Wait!” He turned to see Kat running toward him. She stopped, breathless.
“Kat! What are you doing? Let’s go!” her friend shouted from the cab.
“Go without me,” Kat called back, then looked at William.
“I didn’t even ask your name. No one in there stood up for me except you.”
“William.”
She didn’t ask where they were going, just walked beside him. He learned she’d just graduated, hadn’t even found a job yet.
He admitted he was married, though things were bad, and they were only living together out of habit.
“I know—I saw your ring. I was scared I’d never see you again.”
And he thought it felt like fate. He could’ve taken the bus. The storm could’ve missed them. They might never have met. But they had. A warmth stirred in his chest that he hadn’t felt in years. With Olivia, it had never been like this—no electric touch, no butterflies.
“Wait, we’ve been walking forever. Where’s your house?” Kat asked suddenly.
“We passed it ages ago,” he confessed. “I didn’t want to say goodbye.”
They turned back. William called her a cab. While they waited, they exchanged numbers.
When he finally stepped into the flat, Olivia pounced.
“Where have you been?” She spotted the plasters and dried blood. “You got into a fight?”
“At the café. Some drunk harassed a girl—”
“You never care that much about *me*,” she muttered and stormed into the kitchen. The sound of clattering dishes followed.
“Liv, let’s get divorced. This isn’t working,” William said, walking in after her.
“I *knew* there was someone else!”
She screamed, called him a worthless failure, accused him of wasting her best years. In a rage, she raised a plate to hurl at him. He caught her wrist before she could swing. The plate shattered on the floor.
Before she could grab a frying pan, William seized her.
“Enough. There’s no one else. But we’re miserable. Why stay with a failure?”
The next day, he moved out.
He was too ashamed to call Kat. He was older, still technically married. But when she rang him, his heart leapt. He couldn’t push her away.
They started seeing each other—cinema trips, long walks. William filed for divorce.
Kat had been suffering from morning sickness, fatigue, a persistent cough. The doctor brushed it off as normal pregnancy struggles, but William wasn’t convinced.
Then a nurse chased them outside, slipping him an address.
“This looks familiar. My aunt can help.”
Skeptical but desperate, he went. The elderly woman took his hand, studied his palm, and cut straight to it:
“Someone close to you hates your wife and child. That hatred is killing them.”
William scoffed—but fear gripped him.
“Talk to her. Make her stop. There’s no time.”
He went straight to Olivia.
“Forgive her,” he demanded.
“You’re insane!”
He grabbed her wrist. “If anything happens to her, I’ll kill you.”
She screeched, but he didn’t let go until she whimpered, “Fine! I’ll stop!”
Two days later, Kat was humming in the kitchen. William trembled with suppressed sobs.
The birth was rough, but their son was healthy. William adored them both, waking at every cry to letYears later, as he pushed his son on the swings in the park, William caught a glimpse of Kat laughing in the sunlight and knew—somehow, against all odds—they’d escaped the storm.
