The icy wind bit at Lucy’s cheeks as she stepped out of the office building, her breath forming little clouds in the frigid air. Her car sat alone in the dimly lit car park, its bonnet and windscreen dusted with a delicate layer of snow. She slid inside, immediately cranking up the heater to thaw the frozen interior. The wipers swiped away the powdery snow, clearing her view just enough to merge into the sluggish evening traffic.
Cars crawled bumper-to-bumper, taillights bleeding into a river of red. The high street was gridlocked—Friday night madness. Past the glowing façade of the shopping centre, Lucy swerved in, hoping to wait out the chaos. But the car park was no better, every space claimed. She sighed, gripping the wheel. Just then, headlights flashed in her mirror—a Range Rover reversed out, offering her its spot.
Inside, the mall throbbed with noise and warmth. Lucy unfastened her coat, loosened her scarf, and wandered past shelves crammed with tinsel and baubles. Her basket filled with glittering decorations: frosted glass baubles, silver reindeer, tea towels embroidered with Father Christmas, champagne flutes etched with “Good Cheer.” Gifts for colleagues, trinkets for friends. She’d find something proper for her husband and mum later.
The queue at the till stretched endlessly. Lucy tapped her foot, eager for fresh air. Bad idea, coming here tonight. Should’ve waited for the quiet of Saturday morning. Finally, her turn came. The cashier scanned her haul, and Lucy winced—far more than she’d intended. Too late now.
Clutching her bulging bag, she wove through the crowd, careful not to let anyone jostle her.
“Lucy!”
She barely registered it over the din.
“Whitmore!” The name—her maiden name—stopped her cold. Shoppers jostled past, nudging her aside. She turned, scanning the sea of faces.
“Hey, Lucy.” The voice came from beside her.
A bearded man stood there, a black beanie pulled low over his brow. His grin revealed a missing front tooth. His clothes hung loose, unkempt. Her stomach twisted—this couldn’t be anyone she knew.
“Don’t recognise me?” he chuckled. “But I knew you straight off. Still look a million quid.”
Something in his voice prickled at her memory, but she couldn’t place him.
“We were in the same class. Secondary school.”
“Daniel?” she gasped. She wanted to ask what had happened to him, how he’d ended up like this, but the words stuck in her throat.
“The one and only,” he grinned, the gap in his teeth flashing. “Changed much?”
“A bit,” she admitted. “What… what happened?”
“Long story. Fancy a cuppa? There’s a café here.” His eyes were hopeful.
Lucy struggled to reconcile this man with the boy she’d once fancied. The one who’d broken her heart when he started going out with Jessica instead. Now she was embarrassed to be seen with him.
“Sorry, I should go,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze.
But Daniel kept looking at her, waiting.
“Alright, just quickly,” she relented, more out of curiosity than anything.
He led her to a corner table, half-hidden in shadow. The café hummed with chatter. A waiter set down menus, barely glancing at Daniel before focusing on Lucy.
“Coffee with lemon,” she said.
Daniel ordered a full meal. The waiter’s eyes flicked to Lucy, who nodded faintly.
“Come here often?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Work here.”
She didn’t press.
“You became a doctor, yeah? Like you wanted.”
“You remember?”
“Course. Always said you’d do it.”
A silence settled.
“Gifts for the husband?” He nodded at her shopping bag.
“Something like that.” She deflected. “You married?”
“Was. Jessica,” he said bitterly. “Proper nightmare. She’s the reason I’m like this.”
Lucy stiffened. Jessica. The girl he’d chosen over her.
“I was daft. Got married too young. She wanted money, pushed me into business with her dad’s mate. Went tits up. Lost everything. She divorced me, took up with the bloke who ruined me.” He laughed hollowly. “Karma’s a joke.”
The food arrived. Daniel wolfed it down. Lucy sipped her coffee, uneasy.
“You could’ve taken them to court,” she said.
“Had no fight left.” He wiped his mouth. “Drank myself stupid. Mum’s all I’ve got now.”
Lucy signalled for the bill. Daniel pulled out crumpled notes before she could reach for her card.
“Don’t,” he muttered.
Outside, frost glittered under the streetlights.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’m fine.”
She hurried to her car without looking back. In the mirror, she saw him watching, shoulders hunched against the cold. She flashed her lights once before driving off.
At home, her husband, James, raised an eyebrow.
“Traffic?”
“Went shopping.” She dropped the bag, exhausted.
“You look rough.”
She hesitated, then told him about Daniel.
“Sounds like he gave up,” James shrugged. “Life’s hard for everyone.”
“Maybe give him a job?”
“Doubt he’d last.” But he kissed her cheek. “For you, I’ll think about it.”
Weeks later, Lucy returned to the mall. The security guard frowned when she asked after Daniel.
“Gone. Month now.”
“What? Didn’t anyone look for him?”
The guard scoffed. “Lads like him disappear all the time.”
She left her card, knowing he’d never call.
Once, she thought she saw him on the street. But it wasn’t him.
She told herself he’d turned things around. Found work. Stopped drinking.
But Daniel never called.
