“Everything will be different now. I promise…”
The workday was nearly over. Only twenty minutes remained until the electronics store closed. At this hour, customers were scarce. Unlike a grocery shop where you could grab what you needed in minutes, buying appliances required careful thought—especially when they cost a small fortune.
Marianne glanced around the spacious showroom. Empty. Even the sales assistants had vanished into the back room. Only the security guard lingered by the entrance, eyes glued to his laptop screen. She had a hunch he was either playing solitaire or scrolling through the news.
She moved toward the stockroom herself—she needed to call her husband, ask him to peel the potatoes so dinner wouldn’t take as long. They weren’t allowed to use personal phones on the shop floor. Management could check the CCTV footage and penalise them at any moment.
Just then, a man walked in and headed straight for the tablet displays. The floor was still empty of staff. The guard stepped out from his post but stayed by the entrance—he wasn’t supposed to leave his position. Marianne sighed and approached the customer.
“How can I help you?” she asked, forcing a polite tone.
The man turned sharply.
“I need a tablet. Like this one.” He jabbed a finger at one of the display models.
Marianne forgot how to breathe. It was like seeing a ghost—because it *was* one. Him. The love she’d lost. She couldn’t be wrong. But how? Why now?
He hadn’t waited for her reply, pivoting fully to face her.
“Marianne? Is that really you?” His face lit up, as if fate had handed him a gift.
“Yes. What are you doing here? We close in—” She checked her watch. “—fifteen minutes.”
“Too late to buy something?” He scanned the near-deserted shop. “Damn.”
“We stay open for the last customer. I can recommend this model instead. Slightly pricier, but much better quality.” Her voice steadied—the practised sales assistant mask slipping into place.
“Fine. I’ll trust your judgement,” Roman said.
She bent to retrieve an unopened box from beneath the display. “Come with me—we’ll get it sorted.”
At the counter, her fingers trembled as she punched in the details. She kept mistyping. Flustered, she stood abruptly. “Wait here—I’ll fetch the cashier.” She hurried to the back room, desperate to escape his gaze.
The staff were huddled around a table, deep in conversation.
“Someone take the till—I’ve processed a sale,” she said.
One of the lads rushed out. Marianne checked the clock. Her shift was over. She had every right to leave.
She hadn’t called her husband—she’d forgotten he existed. Her hands still shook. Why? Why did they have to meet again? She’d hoped never to see him. She changed quickly and slipped out the back exit, where deliveries were received.
Wet pavement gleamed under the streetlights. The rain had eased to a drizzle, but she walked home anyway—just three stops. She needed to clear her head, to steady herself…
***
She’d fallen for Roman the first time she saw him. Known he was in his final year, that his name was Roman Shawcross, that half the girls in college lost their minds over him. But she couldn’t help it. Her heart hammered wildly whenever she passed him in the corridors.
Once, in the canteen, she’d ended up beside him. Nerves left her brain useless—she barely noticed what she’d put on her tray.
“Got any cash?” His voice snapped her back. “Hey, you listening?”
“What?”
“Cash. The card reader’s down. Cover me, I’ll pay you back.”
She nodded, fumbling in her bag for her purse.
As she moved away from the till, he called her over to his table. The canteen was packed—she sat opposite him on stiff legs, tray untouched. Roman devoured his mashed potatoes and gravy while she stared at her food, certain she wouldn’t swallow a bite.
“Not hungry?” He smirked. “You a fresher?”
“Yeah.” Her voice wavered.
“Strange girl. What’s your name?”
“Marianne.”
“Strange name too.” He rolled it around like a foreign word. “Marianne.”
“After my gran,” she mumbled.
He finished his meal, gulped down his juice. Marianne’s plate stayed full.
“Don’t worry—I’ll pay you back.” His eyes locked onto hers. “Meet me here same time tomorrow. We’ll eat together. Enjoy.” He left with a grin.
She exhaled shakily. Had that really happened? Had he just invited her?
The next day, she barely lasted through her lecture, checking the clock every minute. The canteen was crowded, but no Roman. Stupid to expect him to wait. Deflated, she grabbed a salad and a roll, heading for the till—when he appeared, paying before she could.
“Cheers,” she murmured. He carried her tray to his table, sitting opposite.
“You’re not eating?” she dared to ask.
“Already did. Got out early.”
He studied her openly.
“Listen, there’s a party at Connor’s tonight. His parents are away. Fancy coming? Bit of dancing, some drinks. Where d’you live?”
“Harrington Road.”
“That’s close. Which house?” She told him. “I’ll wait outside at seven. Enjoy.”
At seven, he was there. The flat was packed with strangers. Marianne hovered awkwardly. No one noticed her—least of all Roman. He danced with other girls, vanished, reappeared. She’d had enough. Her coat was buried under others in the hall.
“Leaving already?” Roman materialised beside her. “I’ll walk you.”
Outside, the wine warmed her nerves. She even managed small talk, though she remembered none of it—too overwhelmed when he kissed her. She stayed up half the night replaying it, forgetting all about her exam.
They started seeing each other. Marianne floated on cloud nine, deaf to friends’ warnings about Roman’s reputation, to her mother’s disapproval. Who cared what they thought? Roman—the most gorgeous guy in college—loved *her*! She nearly failed her summer exams, scraping by with two Cs, losing her grant.
“Mum, I love him. He’s perfect. We’re getting married,” she insisted when her mother finally confronted her.
“Married? You’re nineteen! You’re flunking classes—next you’ll drop out,” her mother muttered.
Then Roman vanished. No calls, no visits. Marianne got his address from the registrar and went to his house. His mother answered.
“Roman’s not here. He’s gone to his dad’s.”
“Gone? He didn’t say anything. When’s he back?” Her voice cracked.
“Not for a while. His father’s business is in Manchester. More opportunities there.”
“Please—his number?”
“Love, if he didn’t give it to you, he didn’t want you calling. Use your head.” The door shut in her face.
Marianne walked home in a daze. How could he do this? Leave without a word, after all his promises?
Three days she sobbed in her room. Her mother called a doctor, who prescribed sedatives—she threw them away. Didn’t want to live. But on the fourth day, she got up. Like a ghost, moving through life.
It took years to heal. Then she met Toby in a clothing store, shopping for a New Year’s dress. He asked for her help picking one for his sister, then invited her to the girl’s birthday. They spent New Year’s together.
“Toby’s a good lad. Give him a chance,” her mother urged, relieved Marianne had moved on from that doomed fling.
Marianne didn’t care. When Toby proposed in their final year, she said yes.
He knew she didn’t love him—but hoped his love would be enough for both. When their son was born, Marianne poured everything into the boy. Toby might as well have been invisible. Of course he strayed. Thought jealousy might wake her up. It didn’t.
When he confessed about the other woman, she didn’t even blink. Told him to go. But he stayed. They carried on. Their son grew up—now finishing school.
***
She’d thought she’d forgotten Roman. But this chance meeting had shattered her calm, dredged up old feelings. Logic fought her heart—and won. She wouldn’t let him wreck her life again. They’d never cross paths after this.
At home, Toby was frying potatoes.
“There you are. Hungry? Won’t be long. Get changed and wash up.”
When she returned, the table was set—even a bottle of white wine open.
“What’s the occasion?” she asked, sitting.
“No reason. Just wanted to.” He poured her a glass. “Eat—it’ll get cold.”
Later, they sat watching TV.
“Why didn’tShe leaned into him, the warmth of their shared silence more comforting than any words, and for the first time in years, she truly believed in the promise of a fresh start.
