**Diary Entry**
I always wondered what she saw in him.
Nadia stepped out of the shop and was descending the steps when a sleek red car pulled up sharply in front of her. A young woman stepped out, her dress billowing in the gust of wind, a strand of hair whipping across her face. With a practised flick of her head, she tossed it back, smoothed down her skirt, and walked past Nadia without a glance.
“Lena? Lena!” Nadia called out.
Lena turned, scanning the faces around her before her gaze settled on Nadia. For a moment, neither spoke.
“You don’t recognise me?” Nadia moved closer. “It’s me, Nadia Clarke.”
“Nadia. You’re right, I didn’t.” Lena’s tone was cool. “Long time no see.”
“You seem in a hurry—” Nadia tugged her away from the doorway. “Let’s step aside. My, you’ve changed.”
Lena smiled faintly.
“Do you live nearby?” she asked.
“No, I’m at work. Just popped in during my break. What about you?”
“Honestly, why are we standing here? You’ve got time, don’t you? Let’s grab a coffee—when else will we get the chance?”
Nadia agreed, and they slipped into a half-empty café nearby, more of a greasy spoon than anything. They took a table by the window. Lena beckoned the waitress, who sauntered over, chewing gum, and dropped laminated menus in front of them.
“No need,” Lena said, pushing them aside. “Two salads, two Victoria sponges, and tea. Quickly, please.”
As the waitress swayed off, Lena turned to Nadia.
“So, how’s life?” She settled into the plastic chair.
“Fine. Was married briefly—no kids. You look like you’re doing well.”
“Can’t complain.” Lena laughed, flashing the wedding band on her finger.
“Children?”
The waitress returned with tiny plates of cake, cups, and a small teapot.
“Listen,” Lena said suddenly, once they were alone again, “are your parents still around?”
“Dad passed years ago. Mum… she’s alive, but she’s not been the same since.” Nadia twisted her cup idly.
Lena poured the tea. The scent of mint rose between them.
“That’s sad. I always liked your parents. Not like my mother—never satisfied, never a kind word. No surprise Dad left. Your house was always so peaceful.” Lena’s eyes glazed with memory.
Nadia sighed.
***
She and James had lived in the same building—she on the third floor, he the second. They went to nursery together, then the same primary school. James’s father drank, and when he erupted into shouting matches, James would escape upstairs to Nadia’s flat.
In Year 9, a new girl joined their class—bright, beautiful Lena, whose parents had split. She and her mother moved into the next block. James was instantly smitten. Nadia watched, heartsick, as the walks home they used to share turned into a trio—James animated, cracking jokes, Lena laughing while Nadia lagged behind.
After school, James would rush to the lockers, waiting with Lena’s coat in hand. They’d leave together, forgetting Nadia entirely, though Lena still chatted with her at break like nothing was amiss.
Once, the three went to the cinema. When the lights came up, Nadia noticed their interlaced fingers. They didn’t even glance back as she fell behind. She never joined them again.
After A-levels, they scattered—Nadia to study economics at university, James to an engineering college, Lena to fashion school.
That winter, Nadia fell ill. Snow dusted the courtyard as she stared out her window—then spotted Lena hurrying towards their building. Nadia opened her door, waiting… but the footsteps stopped a floor below. James’s voice floated up—”Finally…”—followed by the click of his door.
Her face burned. She slumped onto the hallway bench, tears spilling. Lena visited while his parents were at work. The thought of what they did there made her ache.
Later, her mother mentioned running into James’s mum at Tesco. His drinking had worsened; James had moved out, renting a flat with Lena.
In her final year, Nadia married a coursemate, Alex. They lived with his mother, who meddled endlessly, dictating how Nadia should care for him.
“Alex, why did you marry me?” she asked once. “No wife could replace your mum.”
He shrugged. “Mum knows best. You’ll get used to it.”
“I don’t want to.” She packed her bags.
Another shrug. The divorce was quick—no children, no shared assets.
She saw James only once more, at his father’s funeral. No chance to talk. His mother remarried soon after.
***
Now, years later, Lena sat across from her in the café, radiant as ever. The salads arrived. Lena dug in; Nadia nibbled her cake, sipping lukewarm tea.
“James?” she asked.
Lena froze, fork mid-air. “Still in love with him?” She leaned back, assessing Nadia.
“You know, I always envied you. Your family was so warm—mine? Just my looks. I reeled James in easily enough.” Lena paused. “But we were too different. He wanted a family. I wanted to live, not scrape by. Now I’ve got a wealthy husband—everything I dreamed of.”
“And James?”
“Why the obsession? He’s in a tiny flat—couldn’t afford better. Alone, last I heard. The path’s clear. But really—what did you ever see in him?”
Nadia checked her watch. “Sorry, I need to get back to work.”
She stood abruptly, desperate to escape Lena’s stare.
“Suit yourself.” Lena sipped her tea, grimacing.
Nadia reached for her purse.
“Don’t. My treat.” Lena waved her off, regal as a queen dismissing a servant.
Nadia left without goodbye—then halted at the door and marched back.
“Forget something?” Lena smirked.
“His address.”
Lena hesitated, then scribbled it on a napkin. “Take it. Good luck.”
At her desk, Nadia smoothed the napkin. *What now? March straight to him?* Lena’s mocking voice lingered in her mind.
“I will. Just watch me,” she muttered.
“What was that?” her colleague asked.
Nadia tucked the napkin away.
On her walk home, fallen leaves crunched underfoot. Autumn had been unseasonably warm. She entered her old estate out of habit, glancing up at James’s window on the second floor. Memories rushed back—school runs, his panicked knocks at her door after his father’s rages. Where had it all gone?
At his block, she hovered. *Why am I here? Lena’s right—he never loved me. Move on.* She spun to leave—and collided with James.
“Nadia? What—?”
Her heart leapt.
“I—was visiting a colleague. She wasn’t in.” She studied him—unshaven, red-eyed.
“Managed to catch a cold in this weather. Just nipped out for milk.” He lifted the carton.
“You should be resting.” She steered him inside.
In his cramped bachelor flat, she fried potatoes from under the sink, boiled the milk, and sent him to bed. When she checked, he was asleep, brow damp—his fever breaking. She watched, aching with tenderness. *This is the boy I never stopped loving.*
At home, her mother glanced up from the telly. “You’re late.”
“Ran into Lena.”
Mum muted the show. “I thought you two weren’t close.”
“Café chat. She’s married—fancy car, gorgeous as ever.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“When will *you* settle down? Give me grandchildren?”
“Mum, don’t.” She retreated to her room.
She tried reading, but James’s face—pale on the doorstep, peaceful in sleep—haunted her. *What was the point?*
Brushing her teeth later, her mother handed her the ringing phone.
“It’s still your number—just took a chance. Sorry I fell asleep. Why’d you leave?”
Goosebumps pricked her skin. She shut the bathroom door.
“Didn’t want to wake you. Feeling better?”
“Much. Nadia—I know I mucked things up. Not the time, but—will you come tomorrow? Or—where do you work? I’ll meet you.”
“You want me to come?”
“Of course I do.”
How long had she waited to hear that? No one else had ever mattered.
The next morning, Nadia dressed carefully—a smart dress, light makeup.
“Special occasion?” Her mother eyed her.
“Colleague’s work anniversary.”
“Late again?”
“Maybe.” She rinsed off the makeup, changed into jeans and a jumper.
“Don’t ask,”She walked to his flat, heart pounding, knowing this time she wouldn’t turn away.
