No Way Back
“Happy birthday, Evelyn. I want to give you your dream,” Denis said cheerfully as he hugged her.
“How can you give someone a dream? A dream is just that—a dream. You can’t hold it in your hands,” Evelyn replied, puzzled, as they stepped out of the university after classes.
“But I will give it to you anyway,” he declared proudly. “Let’s go to the dorm, drop off your notes, and change. Then we’ll head out of town.”
They stepped off the bus at the stop marked *Equestrian Club*, and suddenly it dawned on Evelyn—he was taking her horseback riding. She had told him countless times how much she longed to ride a horse. She had dreamed of it since childhood, though she had only ever seen horses at the zoo or in films, which she adored.
Why she loved them so much, she couldn’t say. Once, when she was about five, she had even asked her father, “Dad, can we buy a horse?”
Her father had laughed in surprise. “And where would we keep it? It’s big, needs feeding, needs hay. We live in a two-bedroom flat!”
“On the balcony,” she had answered simply.
Of course, he had patiently explained that horses needed stables and open fields to run in—that keeping one in a flat would be cruel. The thought of a miserable horse had upset her, so she reluctantly agreed. “Alright, Dad, no horse on the balcony. But will you build a stable under it?”
That childish dream had stayed with her. Even now, in her fourth year at university, she still loved horses.
After the ride, Evelyn was glowing with happiness. “Thank you, Denis. This was wonderful. Now I know—dreams really do come true.” He was just as happy, having fulfilled his beloved’s wish.
It was spring. As they left the club’s grounds, Evelyn spotted a nearby woodland and suggested a walk. There, she found another piece of her childhood—the forest floor was dusted white with snowdrops.
“Oh, Denis, look! When I was a girl, my friends and I used to run to the woods to pick these. The snow’s barely gone, and yet they’re already here. And the scent—spring is the most magical time. Nature waking up…”
Young and carefree, Denis hurried to her with an armful of snowdrops. She had gathered her own.
“Happy birthday—and happy spring,” he said warmly.
“Denis, thank you. You’ve given me the most wonderful gift—horses and snowdrops. A true reunion with my childhood.”
“I’m glad I could surprise you.”
Denis and Evelyn had been together for over a year. Before graduation, he spent his carefully saved money—every bit of his scholarship included—on a ring to propose properly. Their love had been real; of that, they were certain.
The wedding was as joyful as any—a white dress for the bride, a sharp suit for the groom. Evelyn’s maid of honour was her best friend, Beatrice. They had shared a dorm room, studied in the same group, and remained close even after university, though they worked in different places.
Denis climbed the ranks at his company, soon becoming department head with a comfortable salary. Evelyn worked too, but eventually took maternity leave and gave birth to a beautiful son, Oliver.
Years passed. Oliver grew, started school. To Evelyn, their life seemed perfect—quiet, steady. Denis was loving and attentive, devoted to their boy. They owned a modest two-bedroom flat. Beatrice visited often, especially on weekends.
“When are you finally going to settle down?” Evelyn would tease her still-single friend.
“I don’t know. But I hope it happens,” Beatrice always answered cryptically.
Then, without warning, the storm broke. One evening, Denis came home grim-faced, avoiding her eyes.
“I’m leaving, Evelyn.”
“Leaving? Where?” she asked, still smiling faintly in confusion.
“For another woman.”
“You’re joking, right? Who?” she pressed, not quite grasping it.
“You won’t believe it, but—Beatrice.” And with that, he went to pack his things.
Evelyn sank onto a kitchen chair, thoughts scattering like startled birds. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—believe it.
But when Denis walked out with his suitcase and shut the door behind him, reality struck. Oliver, playing outside, had missed the conversation. When he came in, he said, “I saw Dad with a bag. He told me he’s going on a long business trip.” Evelyn just nodded, saying nothing. Let him believe that.
Ten years passed.
One Saturday noon, the doorbell rang insistently. Annoyed, Evelyn flung the door open, ready to scold whoever had their finger jammed on the buzzer—only to freeze. Standing there was the woman she least wanted to see. She tried to slam the door, but the other woman blocked it with her foot.
“What do you want from me?” Evelyn snapped.
It was Beatrice.
“Not even going to invite me in?” her former friend asked.
“Why are you here? Get out.”
“I came to talk. Please, hear me out.” There was something pleading in Beatrice’s voice, so Evelyn reluctantly let her in.
The unwelcome guest kicked off her shoes and headed to the kitchen.
“Make yourself at home. Want me to brew you coffee too?” Evelyn said acidly.
“That’d be nice—but I know you won’t. Doesn’t matter.”
Evelyn studied her. The years had not been kind—Beatrice’s figure had softened, dark circles shadowed her eyes. Not yet forty, but worn.
Beatrice met her gaze squarely. “Evelyn. Take Denis back,” she blurted.
Evelyn laughed in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“I’m begging you,” Beatrice pressed on. “I’ll even give you money. I have some saved.”
“So you stole my husband, schemed behind my back, and now you’re handing him back like a faulty appliance? Are you mad? Or is he sick and you’re dumping him on me?”
“No, no—Denis is fine,” Beatrice rushed to clarify.
“Then what? Fell out of love?” Evelyn’s voice dripped scorn.
“I never loved him,” Beatrice admitted. “I just wanted to hurt you.”
Evelyn stared. “Me? Why?”
“Because everything came easy to you! Top marks, beauty, prospects. I was just your shadow—even my name was the only pretty thing about me. Denis had a good job, a future. I was sick of it. So I took him. Took a lot of effort, too.”
“And now he’s not earning?”
“Now all he does is drink and sprawl on the sofa. We never had children—I couldn’t. He wanted a child. He still works, but the drinking…”
“So you’re returning him like damaged goods?”
“No. I’ve fallen in love—really in love. I can’t breathe without him. He loves me too. Maybe I can still have a baby with him,” Beatrice said desperately.
“And you didn’t think of me, as usual. You never do. You stole my husband, used him up, and now you’re tossing him back? Do you hear yourself?” Evelyn spoke calmly, surprising even herself.
“Please, try to understand—”
“No. I don’t take second-hand husbands. I don’t need him. Oliver and I are fine on our own.”
“But you loved Denis! I remember how much. And you’re alone now—”
“Yes, I loved him. It was extraordinary. But you destroyed that. You both betrayed me. I forgave you long ago, but I don’t want him—or you—back.” The words rang clear and final.
Evelyn watched Beatrice crumple like a beaten dog. But she felt no pity.
*What did she expect?*
Beatrice had hoped Evelyn would welcome Denis back with open arms. Instead, Evelyn said coldly, “Leave, Beatrice. Go. I won’t take him. That part of my life is over. And no, I’m not alone—I have a man I love.”
Beatrice rose heavily and left.
Alone, Evelyn sat in her favourite chair and wept—not for Denis, but for the lie she had told. There was no other man, only Oliver. And there might never be.
But one thing was certain: there was no going back. That road was closed. And she had no desire to walk it again.
