“At least someone found you worth keeping,” he muttered.
“You don’t need my son—he’ll ruin your life.”
“That’s not true, Sophia. And why do you talk about James like that? He’s your only child!”
“Exactly why I’m warning you. I know my son too well to doubt my words.”
Sophia slowly walked out of the kitchen, leaving Lily sitting at the table in her new evening dress. She’d put it on specially, come over to show her neighbour, hoping to dazzle James with it later.
Lily had been in love with her neighbour’s son for years. It started when she was just a little girl—naive, silly, but capable of deep devotion.
James was seven years older. He was seventeen when they first met; she was ten. Lily had moved with her parents to Ashford from the next village over after her dad lost his job. Sophia had already been living there for years, raising James alone.
“Such a decent family,” Lily’s mum had said after visiting Sophia. Even though Sophia was fifteen years older, the women became friends, and Lily and James saw each other more often.
A year later, James left for university, and Lily stayed behind, never forgetting him, still visiting Sophia regularly.
Right after graduating, James got married. It shattered Lily. She refused to believe he’d found real love—she was convinced marriage was forever. Her own parents had been together twenty years; her grandparents stayed together till death. Even Sophia had said she and James’s father were married right up until he vanished without a trace in a warzone.
“Didn’t even introduce me to his wife,” Sophia complained to Lily’s parents. “Some posh city girl, full of herself.”
“Then go visit them in the city,” Lily’s mum suggested. “Meet your daughter-in-law, see how he’s living.”
Sophia just waved her off. “Why bother? If James didn’t invite me to the wedding, he didn’t want me there. No need for me to know his wife.”
Lily pitied Sophia, but what really tore at her was the thought that James would never return to Ashford. But barely a year later, he came back—alone, with just a few belongings.
“Sophia’s boy’s back,” her mum announced when she got home. Lily shot up, nearly knocking her over in her rush to leave. She sprinted to Sophia’s house, crashing into James just as he stepped out for a smoke.
“Oi, Lily-pad!” He grinned, winking.
She noticed how much he’d changed—grown up, a proper man now. A beard, streaks of grey at his temples, though he was only twenty-five.
“Hi, James,” she said softly, resisting the urge to touch his face. “You’re back?”
He shrugged indifferently. “Dunno yet. Got divorced. Had to come back to Mum’s—lived with my wife’s parents, and it all went tits-up. Never did anything right.”
Lily just stared, baffled—how could anyone think James was bad? He was wonderful! Handsome, kind, clever! That city girl must’ve been the problem. No wonder Sophia didn’t like her.
“Maybe we could go to the cinema?” she suggested.
“Nah. Too much to do here—Mum’s got me running around.”
Lily hid her disappointment. Just having him nearby was enough—breathing the same air, talking, asking how she was. Maybe one day he’d realise she was the one for him.
But Sophia wasn’t happy he was back. She tried getting him work on the farm, then in town, but he turned everything down.
“I’m sick of his moaning,” Sophia confided in Lily one day. “Now I see why his wife left. It wasn’t her—it was him.”
“That’s not true!” Lily protested. “James is good, you just don’t understand him!”
Sophia scoffed. “Right, because I don’t know my own son. He’s selfish, just like his father.” She fell silent then, eyes turning away. Lily wanted to argue, but the sorrow on Sophia’s face stopped her.
Months later, still jobless, James left again—without even saying goodbye. Lily cried for weeks, remembering him as the best man she’d ever known.
Then disaster struck. Lily’s parents died in a car crash. She’d just turned eighteen, about to start university. Without Sophia’s help, she’d never have survived the grief.
James came to the funeral—with another woman. A slim, fair-haired girl gazing at him adoringly. Lily’s heart sank.
Two weeks later, Lily learned he was remarrying. Sophia mentioned it offhand, but to Lily, it was a bolt from the blue. She still loved him, but hope was gone.
After her parents’ deaths, Lily stayed in Ashford, working as a farmhand. No university, just clawing her way out of depression—learning to live without her parents, without James.
Then, just before New Year’s, Sophia told her James was coming home.
“Is he bringing his wife?” Lily asked, already knowing the answer.
“No. He’s coming alone.” Sophia smirked. “Think he’d come back here if things were fine?”
Lily’s heart leapt. Finally! She’d tell him everything.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Sophia warned.
Lily, who’d already bought a beautiful dress for the occasion, froze. “Why? I care about him—”
“Too much. He doesn’t deserve it.”
Sophia’s bitter tone made Lily flinch. She bought the dress anyway, then went to show Sophia.
“You don’t need my son. He’ll ruin your life.”
Lily stared. How could Sophia, who adored James, think he wasn’t right for her? Didn’t she see how much Lily loved him?
On New Year’s Eve, James turned up at Lily’s, drunk and angry after a fight with his mum. He brought two bottles of champagne and a foul mood.
“Let’s drink,” he said, ignoring her dress.
That night, he stayed. To Lily, it was magical—the most important moment in years.
She woke up a different person. James was beside her—the man she’d waited for.
Two days later, he left without saying goodbye. She cried, ran to Sophia for news, but the older woman just watched her with disapproval.
“I warned you,” Sophia said flatly. Lily had no reply.
In February, Lily found out she was pregnant. She bought a bus ticket, called James—he agreed to meet at a café near the station.
“I’ve got twenty minutes,” he said coldly.
The news didn’t thrill him. Lily searched his face for joy, but there was none.
“If you think this’ll make me marry you, forget it,” he said. “I’ve met someone else. Serious plans.”
Lily blinked rapidly, as if something had got in her eye. To her, that night had been magic. To him? Nothing.
Back in Ashford, she spent days agonising. Then she went to Sophia, who asked straight away: “You’re keeping it?”
“How did you know?”
“I’m not stupid. Small village. Are you getting rid of it?”
Lily looked down. “I… don’t know. I thought you’d tell me what to do. It’s James’s.”
Sophia sighed, took her hand. “I’m no advisor. Listen or don’t. Once, I dated a married man—thought I could build happiness on someone else’s pain. Got pregnant. Had James. Do I regret it? Probably. I could’ve married a decent man, had a child the right way. But it was my choice. I won’t tell you what to do—but it’s easier living with your own mistakes, not someone else’s advice.”
Lily gaped. “But what mistake? Loving your son?”
“Maybe,” Sophia shrugged. “Or maybe regretting keeping it—or not keeping it. Like me. You’ll spin stories—a missing father, whatever—to hide the truth.”
“James’s father’s alive?”
“Alive and well. Probably on his fifth wife. Didn’t want me, but hopped from one to the next easy as anything. James takes after him—never even knew the man.”
Lily left without another word. The next morning, she knew—she’d keep the baby.
In October, her daughter, Olivia, was born. By the next New Year, Sophia was gone. She’d held her granddaughter once—but never saw her son again. He couldn’t be bothered to visit his dying mother.
Lily took care of everything.
James came to the funeral, nodded stiffly at Lily. Another woman stood beside him. She said nothing about Olivia. He asked nothing.
Six months later, he was back—for the inheritance. Sophia’s house and land should’ve been his. But the solicitor had news.
“The property was left to Lily Dawson. She took ownership months ago, when the will was read.”
James swayed. “What? I’He stormed off without another word, leaving Lily standing there with a quiet resolve, finally free of the love that had once consumed her.
