“Was it my imagination, or are we together again?” Emily pressed herself against James.
“Well? I think it looks alright, yeah?” Charlotte spun in front of the mirror, pulling at a pair of trousers. “Em, enough moping. Go somewhere, shake things up. Distract yourself. Fall in love, for god’s sake.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets, bending one knee. “No, I definitely like them. If you don’t mind, I’ll take them. Ta.” She bounced over to Emily, plopped onto the sofa beside her, hugged her, and planted a kiss on her cheek.
Emily sighed, stood, and wandered to the mirror.
“You’re right, I look awful. Lost weight. Pale. I was the one who ended it, and now I regret it. Fine, you win. Tomorrow I’ll hand in my leave request. No—I’ll book the tickets first, then the leave.” Emily smiled for the first time all evening.
“That’s the spirit,” Charlotte said.
The smile transformed her. Not just her lips—her eyes crinkled into slits, sparkling with something mischievous. “Cheeky little imp,” Charlotte always said. But Emily hadn’t smiled much lately.
James had fallen for her because of that laugh. She and Charlotte had been sitting on a bench near the office, eating ice cream, giggling about something. He’d walked past, glanced, then looked back longer. Their laughter grew louder, infectious.
Two days later, they were there again. This time, he approached purposefully, stopping in front of Emily. “Hello.”
“Who are you?” Charlotte had asked bluntly, and they’d burst into laughter again.
“I’m James. I’ve been coming here every day hoping to see you. You were here two days ago… Your laugh…” He didn’t take his eyes off Emily.
Something in his voice—serious, vulnerable—made her smile. When his lips parted in surprise, she laughed, bright and unguarded. Not mocking, just happy. No one had ever looked at her like that. Later, he’d say it was the playful glint in her narrowed eyes that did it, not Charlotte’s sharper beauty.
He won her over with his adoration, his attention. They moved in together, lasted two years. Then… it was time to propose or part ways. Things had become routine.
James grew quiet. Her laugh didn’t enchant him anymore. So Emily decided his love had faded. She ended it before he could.
He protested weakly, then left with his things. Two weeks later, regret set in. A month in, she was climbing the walls. By two months, she couldn’t breathe without him.
Then Charlotte dropped by, complaining about a date who’d invited her to a gig. She’d bought a blouse but had nothing to wear with it. Emily offered her own trousers—too loose after weeks of pining.
“So get him back before some other bird nabs him,” Charlotte said.
“No. He’d think I’m dependent. Like I’m yielding to him.”
“Isn’t that lovely? Yielding to the man you love.”
“And if we get back together, and I feel that boredom again?”
“You overthink. Open the laptop—let’s find tickets.”
Surprisingly, cheap ones were available for two weeks’ time.
Emily convinced her boss to approve the leave, claiming she’d lose her mind if she didn’t escape London. Travelling alone unnerved her—she’d always gone with family, James, or Charlotte and her bloke.
“You’re clever, but be careful,” Charlotte said at the train station.
Emily had refused to fly—too expensive, too loud. The train suited her. Lying on the bunk, watching the scenery blur past. Or dozing to the rhythm of the tracks, dreaming of the sea. Stepping off into the salt-tinged air, diving straight into the waves…
She didn’t want serious love anymore. Too much pain, fear of endings.
“You’re nearly thirty. Love changes. It’s never perfect. Take what’s given. Just live,” Charlotte said, while Emily scanned the crowd for James.
Her compartment-mates were an elderly couple with a spotty, gawky grandson. He stared until Emily stared back, flustering him into submission. His grandfather slept or did crosswords. His grandmother lamented their son’s divorce, dumping the boy on them. “Too old for this,” she muttered.
Emily found a room by the shore, far from crowded beaches. She walked, meditated, watched distant ships. Tanned, relaxed, she almost felt whole—until a handsome stranger appeared.
Daniel said he’d noticed her, preferred solitude too. Recently divorced, healing by the sea. They walked, swam, dined in cafés. Shared pain bonded them.
It might’ve stayed innocent—until he tossed a pebble at her window one night.
“I came to say goodbye,” he murmured. “My father’s in hospital. I leave at dawn. I can’t bear to go… You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Emily hid her sadness, opened the window. What a night it was. Not just sex—closeness. She forgot everything. She wasn’t just fond of him. She loved him.
“I’ll call. When he recovers, I’ll come back,” he whispered.
They exchanged numbers. She gave him her address. Exhausted, she slept deeply.
When she woke, he was gone.
She texted. *Safe trip. Miss you already.*
*Thank you for an unforgettable night!* he replied, with a heart-eyed emoji.
Loneliness swallowed her. She waited for calls. None came. Her messages went unread. By the time she noticed her money was gone, she knew.
The keys in her suitcase pocket—had they fallen out? The zip was closed. The landlady wouldn’t need keys to a London flat. But *he* would.
The neighbour heard sobbing, called a locksmith. The flat was ransacked—laptop, fur coat, jewellery, anything portable.
“Should’ve listened to Charlotte,” Emily whispered.
She called Charlotte, who arrived—with James.
“Knew something was wrong,” he said.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “He kept pestering me about your return. You’d blocked him.”
Emily wept apologies. “Pride wouldn’t let me crawl back. And then—”
“Your fault? Nonsense,” James murmured. “The coat, the laptop—who cares?”
“He took my savings.”
James and Charlotte exchanged a glance.
“Not much, really,” Charlotte said.
“Probably does this often. Small sums add up,” James said. “But you’ve got a home. A job. Us.”
“Forgive me. I thought you stopped loving me.”
“Never. Work was rough—didn’t want to drag you into it.”
“Was it my imagination, or are we together again?” Emily pressed against him.
“By the way,” James said, “I’ve a new computer. Want to borrow it?”
Emily blinked. “What about you?”
“Silly. I come with it.”
She laughed, tears sparkling in her crinkled eyes—the ones he loved.
A woman’s heart is a mystery: pushing love away, only to lose herself to a liar. She learns too late—it’s better to be loved than to love. Less heartache.
