**You’re the One I Used to Like…**
Lucy stepped out of the office and walked toward her car in the parking lot. A light dusting of snow covered the bonnet and windscreen. She climbed in and immediately turned on the heater to warm the chilled interior before wiping the frost away with the wipers.
Pulling onto the road, she merged into the evening traffic, but the cars barely moved. Every set of lights seemed to take forever, and the congestion was relentless. It felt as though half of London had decided to drive at once. Passing a shopping centre, Lucy considered ducking inside to escape the gridlock—maybe browse for Christmas gifts while she waited.
But the car park was just as packed, every space taken. She almost regretted turning in—she’d have been better off crawling through traffic. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one with the idea of killing time in the shops.
Then, in her rearview mirror, headlights flashed—an SUV reversed, clearing a spot as if yielding it to her.
Inside, the shopping centre buzzed with noise and warmth. Lucy unbuttoned her coat, loosened her scarf, and wandered through the holiday displays. The glittering decorations, twinkling lights, and rushing crowds made her head spin. She tossed a few brightly coloured baubles, a pair of silver reindeer, some Santa-themed tea towels, and a set of engraved champagne glasses into her basket.
She’d figure out who got what later. For her mum and husband, she’d buy something nicer, but colleagues could have these little festive bits. At the checkout, Lucy realised she’d grabbed far more than intended. Oh well, it’d come in handy.
Bag in hand, she adjusted her coat and scarf, carefully navigating the crowd so no one jostled her fragile purchases.
“Lucy!”
At first, she didn’t register the voice and kept walking.
“Wilson!”
Only hearing her maiden name made her stop. Shoppers bumped past, forcing her to step aside. She scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face.
“Hey, Lucy.” The voice came from right beside her.
She turned and saw a bearded man wearing a black beanie pulled low over his brows. He grinned, revealing a missing front tooth. His clothes hung loose and unkempt. She instantly regretted stopping—this bloke couldn’t possibly know her.
“Don’t recognise me?” he asked. “Knew it was you straight away. You haven’t changed a bit—still look a million quid.” He chuckled. Something about his voice tugged at her memory, but she couldn’t place him.
“We went to school together. Same year,” he reminded her.
“James?!” Lucy gasped. She wanted to ask what had happened to him, but bit back the question.
“That’s me,” he said with another grin, flashing the gap in his teeth again. “Changed much?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. “What happened to you?”
“Long story. Fancy a cuppa? There’s a café here.” His hopeful stare was impossible to ignore.
Lucy struggled to reconcile this man with the boy she’d known. How had she not recognised him? The beard and that ridiculous hat, probably. This was James, the boy she’d once fancied, the one she’d cried over for months. Now, she was embarrassed to be seen with him.
“Sorry, I’ve got to go,” she muttered, glancing away as if seeking escape in the passing crowd. No one paid them any mind.
James waited, hope dimming in his eyes.
“Fine, but not for long,” she relented—more out of curiosity than any real desire to chat.
He brightened, eagerly leading her to the café.
Almost every table was taken.
“That one’s free,” James pointed to a dim corner booth.
*At least it’s dark. No one will see us.*
Before they’d even sat, a waiter slapped menus in front of them. James eagerly scanned his, swallowing hard. Lucy didn’t touch hers.
“Just a coffee for me.”
The waiter gave James a dismissive once-over before turning to Lucy. “Ready to order?” His expression clearly questioned why she was with *him.*
“Black coffee, please.” She glanced at James.
He rattled off a full meal. The waiter shot Lucy a look. She closed her eyes slightly, signalling she’d cover it. He vanished.
“Their coffee’s decent. I eat here sometimes.”
“You work here?”
James nodded, shame flickering across his face. Obviously not as management—maybe a cleaner or stockroom guy. She didn’t press.
“You’re a doctor now, yeah? Like you wanted?”
“You remember that?” She blinked. “Yeah, endocrinology.”
He nodded again, either impressed or unsurprised.
“Get your husband and kids their presents yet?” He nodded at her bulging bag.
Stalling, she asked, “What about you? Married?”
“Was. To Jane. Remember her? Absolute nightmare. She’s why I ended up like—” He cut himself off. “Daft, wasn’t I? She wouldn’t leave me alone, next thing I know, we’re at the registry office. I liked *you*, though,” he added quietly.
*And I liked you,* she admitted inwardly.
The waiter returned with coffee and James’s food. “Fresh scones, if you’d like?”
“No, thanks.”
As the waiter left, James dug into his meal. Lucy looked away, catching a sympathetic smile from a man at the next table—until his wife elbowed him.
She sipped her coffee, itching to leave. James moved on to his main.
“What happened to you?” she asked bluntly.
James set his fork down.
“Started off alright. Nice wife, flat—her parents gifted it. I got my engineering degree, landed a decent job. But what’s an engineer earn? Jane wanted more. Said we should start a business, her dad would front the cash. Then some mate of hers suggested a car parts shop. Long story short, it crashed. Don’t even know how. Jane said I was useless, divorced me.
“Moved back with my parents. Then two blokes turned up, said I owed her dad. Sold my car, my parents’ savings—paid it off. Left with nothing.
“Month later, Dad had a heart attack. Gone. Then Jane married my so-called *business partner*. They’re loaded now. Pretty sure they set me up. Why not just say she didn’t love me?
“Mum’s all I’ve got. Started drinking. Spun right out. Some days I wonder why I bother. But Mum…” He trailed off.
“You could’ve sued them,” Lucy said softly.
“I was drunk. Who’d listen? Jane had money—she’d have paid her way out. Told her I’d get even, she laughed. Next thing, two meatheads jump me. Spent two months in hospital. Should’ve finished me off.”
“I’m not complaining. Got a roof, a job, not starving. Not everyone gets rich.” He shrugged. “Used to go to reunions, hoping to see you. Then…” He waved it off.
Noticing the waiter’s stare, Lucy reached for her purse.
“I’ve got it. Don’t embarrass me,” James said sharply, pulling out crumpled notes.
“You still live around here?” he asked after settling the bill.
“I really should go. It was nice seeing you.” Her smile was strained.
She regretted coming in, regretted hearing his story. All the girls had fancied James. She’d cried for weeks when he’d started dating Jane. If she’d confessed her feelings back then, would his life be different?
Standing abruptly, she grabbed her bag.
“I’ll walk you out.”
Lucy hurried toward the exit, James trailing. Outside, he hesitated.
“Lucy, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. If you ever…”
“Don’t bother. I’ve got my car.” She walked off without looking back.
Driving away, she spotted him in the mirror, watching. She flashed her lights once.
Home, she slumped onto the sofa, exhausted.
Her husband, Tom, handed her a glass of wine. “You’re late.”
“Went shopping. Place was heaving.” She dropped the bag. “Get me one too.”
“You alright?” he asked, sitting beside her.
Lucy hesitated. “Ran into James Whitmore. Remember him?”
“Should I be jealous?” Tom grinned.
She told him everything.
“Pathetic. Gave up instead of fighting. Don’t waste pity on him.”
“I do. Maybe give him a job?”
“Fine. For you.” He kissed her cheek.
Before Christmas, Lucy returned, asking a security guard about James.
“Why d’you want him?”
“Got a job for him.”
“Waste of time. He’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“Vanished. Month ago. No one’s seen him.”
“A man disappears, and no one cares?”
“Plenty like him on the streets.” The guard shrugged.
“If he turns up, tell himMonths later, she still saw him in every shadow, wondering if he’d ever found his way back.
