“Max, you took the wrong turn. We should have gone further,” Emily exclaimed.
“I took the right turn,” Max replied calmly, steering deeper into the woods along the narrow dirt road.
“There was supposed to be a small clearing right here. But there’s nothing,” Emily said, scanning their surroundings. “Let’s turn back and go a bit further. Max, are you listening? Stop the car!”
But Max kept driving, showing no intention of stopping. Emily could tell he knew they were lost. The road grew narrower, patches of grass sprouting between the ruts. The route to the holiday homes should’ve been well-traveled, but instead, they were plunging deeper into the wilderness.
“Stop!” Emily repeated, her voice sharp with anger. “Are you ignoring me?”
“And pull over where? There’s no space to turn around. Just let me find a gap in the trees—”
“Because we should have reversed back at the start,” Emily snapped, crossing her arms. “You never listen to me. Stubborn as a mule.” She huffed, glaring ahead. *He’ll never admit he’s wrong. What’s so hard about it?*
Tree branches scraped against the car, yellowed leaves fluttering onto the bonnet. Finally, Max stopped, and heavy silence settled inside.
“Couldn’t you have just stopped earlier? Now we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere. At least it’s not a swamp,” Emily muttered.
“How many times have I told you not to backseat drive?” Max shot back.
Emily scowled. Max turned the ignition and carefully reversed, the tires crunching over dry leaves. She held her breath, eyes fixed on the side mirror, praying they wouldn’t hit a tree. It took agonizing minutes to inch their way back to the main road.
“Was it so hard to reverse sooner?” Emily grumbled, though the worst of her anger had faded the moment they left the woods.
“And you always have to be right, don’t you? You don’t even notice how you boss me around. Think I enjoy it?” Max’s voice was tense now.
“What, Max? So you kept going out of spite? And now you feel better? Well, you’re dead wrong. What are we waiting for? Drive, or let’s go home. We’ve wasted enough time already.” Her head throbbed from the tension.
Lately, they bickered constantly—over nothing, over everything. Was this just adjustment or something worse? The rose-tinted glasses had fallen off, revealing each other’s flaws in glaring detail. But life was made of small things, and ignoring them wasn’t an option.
“You’re ordering me around again. You don’t even realize it,” Max accused.
“I’m not! Fine, then. We’ll stay put. I don’t want to go anywhere now.” Emily slumped in her seat, tilting her head back, eyes closed, making it clear she was done arguing.
How had it come to this? They’d had such a perfect start—a chance meeting at Brighton beach. Her friend had wandered off to change, and the sun burned Emily’s fair skin. The only person nearby was a tanned, athletic bloke. She’d approached him, sunscreen in hand.
“Mind helping me? Could you rub this on my back? I burn so easily.”
He’d flashed a gorgeous grin and taken the tube.
She turned, and the warmth of his touch sent shivers down her spine. Later, she’d admit that was the moment she fell for him.
Now, though, the magic had dulled. Within a month, despite her parents’ protests, she’d moved in with Max—passion, freedom, the thrill of independence. It had all felt endless. If someone had told her they’d be snapping at each other a year later, she’d have laughed.
But nobody was perfect. Love without fights didn’t exist. The problem was, now they saw *everything*—the habits, the quirks, the grating little things. And now this stupid trip.
She hadn’t even wanted to go. Max’s mates made her feel out of place. She’d only been to that holiday home once, last New Year’s. The clearing near the turn-off was her only landmark.
Max drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Stop that,” Emily said.
She felt his glare but kept her eyes shut. Max started the engine, merged onto the road, and after a few minutes, said, “Alright, *navigator*, point out the turn.”
Emily opened her eyes and frowned. “Think we missed it.”
“Oh, so now it’s *my* fault again? Maybe if you’d been paying attention—” he snapped. “What now?”
“Pull over here.”
For once, Max listened, slowing to a stop. A car zoomed past, horn blaring.
“Let’s just go home,” Emily said suddenly.
“Why?” Max frowned.
“Everything’s gone wrong. I don’t like this.”
“Classic woman logic. ‘I don’t *feel* like it.’ We’re almost there!” He scoffed. “Wait—where are you—?”
She flung the door open.
“I’m *not* going. I won’t let us ruin this completely. You go—your mates are waiting.” Sarcasm laced her words as she slammed the door.
“Em, stop. Get back in. You should’ve said something sooner!” Max called after her.
“I *did*!” She stalked away.
Max jumped out and caught her arm. “Where are you going? It’s dangerous out here alone. Get in the car!”
“Go on without me. There are buses.” She yanked free.
“Last chance—get in,” he growled.
She ignored him.
“Fine.” He stormed back to the car.
The door slammed. The engine roared. She couldn’t believe it—he’d actually leave her? But the car swerved around her and sped off, exhaust fumes stinging her eyes. She stared after it, waiting, hoping he’d stop, reverse, *something*.
He didn’t.
Ten minutes passed. No sign of him.
Raindrops speckled her cheeks. Emily darted across the road, thumb out. A car slowed—not Max’s. A bloke with dark hair grinned from the driver’s seat.
“Need a lift, love? Don’t fancy walking in this!”
She hesitated, glancing at the passenger—another man in the back.
“Sorry, waiting for my husband.” She hurried away. They drove alongside her, urging her in, before finally leaving.
The rain worsened. Her jacket soaked through. She kept turning, hoping for Max’s car. How could he abandon her? Sure, they’d fought—but this? She *had* called him a stubborn mule…
She reached for her phone—gone. Forgotten at home.
“*Just* my luck!” she seethed.
Max would be furious she wasn’t answering. He had no idea.
“Max, *please* come back,” she whispered, shivering. “It’s raining. I’m freezing…”
Another car stopped—an older man in a van with curtained windows. She shook her head.
Eventually, a woman in a sleek car pulled over.
“You’re soaked. Get in before you catch your death.”
Too cold to argue, Emily obeyed.
“Did someone hurt you?” the woman asked.
Emily trembled, tears mixing with rain.
The woman turned up the heater. “You’ll warm up soon.”
She handed Emily tissues. “What happened?”
“Fight with my boyfriend. We were headed to his friend’s holiday home.”
“He *left* you?” The woman shook her head. “Bloody idiot.”
Emily’s hand drifted to her stomach.
“Oh… does he know you’re pregnant?”
“No. I was going to tell him there.”
“Still no excuse.” The woman sighed. “My ex was the same. Had a son—disabled. Never even called.”
By the time they reached the city, Emily had calmed. The woman—Margaret—dropped her off, pressing a card into her hand.
“Call if you need anything. And *no hot baths*—bad for the baby.”
At home, Emily checked her phone—no missed calls.
“Didn’t even *check* on me.” She chuckled bitterly. “*Total* idiot.”
She changed, wrapped herself in a blanket, and dozed on the sofa. *Where are you, Max?*
She woke to arms around her.
“Em… I’m *so* sorry.” Max kissed her face, her tears. “I got lost, my phone died… An old woman said I’d lose what I hadn’t even found yet. She *knew*—about the baby. Is it true? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Emily cried, but this time—happily. He’d *worried*. He *cared*.
“I promise, no more stupid fights,” she sniffed.
He frowned. “What?”
“Nothing. I love you.”
Promises were easy in love. Harder to keep. But for now—Max was here. ApMonths later, as they cradled their newborn son beneath the ivy-covered porch of their own little cottage, the storms of that rainy afternoon felt like nothing more than a distant memory.
