Kate was scrubbing the bathtub when Ben burst into the flat, his face twisted with fury and panic.
“What have you done?!” he shouted, slamming the door behind him.
Kate straightened up instantly and stepped into the hallway. “What’s happened?!” she asked, staring at him in complete confusion.
“Why did you go to her?!” he barked right in her face.
“To who?” Kate’s eyes widened.
“To Theresa! I warned you! I begged you not to get involved!”
“Ben, can you just explain properly? What’s going on?”
“You told her?! About us?!” Ben was panting, wiping sweat from his forehead.
“Yes, I did. And guess what? She understood. Said she wouldn’t stand in the way of our happiness. I’ve already started looking at wedding dresses—look how gorgeous this one is!”
“Dresses? Wedding?!” Ben let out a sharp, nervous laugh. “Kate, have you completely lost it?”
“I thought you’d be grateful,” she said earnestly. “I fixed everything so you wouldn’t have to suffer. You said she was fragile, that she’d fall apart if you left. But turns out she’s tough. She let you go herself.”
Ben slowly sank into the armchair, then stood up and looked at Kate like he was seeing her for the first time.
“You don’t get it…” He didn’t finish. Grabbing his bag, he stormed out, leaving the door wide open.
He couldn’t leave Theresa. Not now, not ever. Because she was the one who pulled him out of the gutter when all he had in his wallet was a measly fifty quid. She gave him everything—a job, a roof over his head, a car, status. The kind of life he’d only dreamed of while sharing a dingy flat with his mate.
Once, he’d been just another lowly sales rep, living paycheck to paycheck, skimping on meals to afford a café meal once a month. Girls glanced his way, but it never stuck—they were either in shared flats or commuting from the suburbs. He wanted more—the glamour, the comfort, the taste of success.
That’s how he ended up at a posh gym—on a free trial pass. And there, his eyes landed on Theresa. Slender, polished, self-assured. Ten years older, but with charm you couldn’t ignore. And most importantly—loaded. She ran her own business.
He made sure their paths “accidentally” crossed more often. One day, Theresa offered him a job—double his old salary. Then a place to live. Then a car. Before he knew it, he was waking up every morning in her penthouse, driving her BMW, working at her firm. Everything was decided for him. All he had to do was nod.
But comfort bred ingratitude. He started thinking he deserved even better. Enter Kate—young, vibrant, carefree. They met in secret. She knew about Theresa and wanted him to leave. He dragged his feet.
Then Kate dropped the bomb: she was pregnant. He vanished. Ghosted her calls. So she went straight to Theresa.
But Theresa didn’t cry. Didn’t make a scene. She listened calmly, thanked her, and said,
“If you’re having a child, they should be with you. I won’t stand in the way. Not for a second.”
When Ben came home, his suitcases were by the door. Theresa handed him the keys and wished him well. He stammered that Kate had made it all up, that it was a setup. No one listened. He walked out—no job, no car, no home.
By evening, he found a dingy bedsit. Two weeks later, he got a job at a furniture shop—fancy title “floor manager,” but really just explaining the difference between two sofas to customers. He blocked Kate’s number, his last message reading: “Sort it out yourself.”
He didn’t feel guilty. To him, everyone else was to blame—women, circumstance, take your pick. Just not him.
Kate soon found out the test was a false alarm—no baby. But the bitterness stayed.
“I believed him,” she sobbed to her friend. “He used me.”
“Kate, love, you’re a grown woman,” her friend sighed. “And you fell for the whole ‘indispensable golden boy’ act? Come on, don’t be a Pollyanna in jeans.”
“But I trusted him…”
“That’s the problem. You shouldn’t have.”
