Rodney walked home from work. It was a bit of a trek, but the evening was warm, quiet, and still. On nights like this, he didn’t mind not having a car. He strolled, enjoying the warmth and the approaching summer.
All his life, Rodney had lived with his parents in the city centre, accustomed to the hustle and bustle. But recently, he’d moved to the outskirts, to a quiet residential area. He’d come home and go straight to bed, only to wake up early and head back into the lively heart of the city for work.
At night, a curious moon peered into his window, unobstructed by trees or neighbouring houses—Rodney didn’t even have proper curtains yet. He lived on the twelfth floor of a new-build with a view of a field and a distant line of woodland. At first, he’d wake in the middle of the night, disoriented, staring at his room bathed in blue moonlight before remembering where he was. Then he’d calm down and fall back asleep.
***
Just two years ago, he hadn’t even known shared flats like this existed. Not like the old-fashioned ones where ten families shared a kitchen, but living with a stranger, sharing common spaces—it wasn’t exactly pleasant.
Rodney had grown up in an ordinary family, in a modest two-bedroom flat in the city centre with high ceilings, spacious rooms, and a long, narrow hallway leading to a tiny kitchen. His mum worked as a nursery teacher, his dad drove a bus. They weren’t rich, but they could afford holidays by the sea.
Everything fell apart in a single day. His dad hadn’t broken any rules—he’d waited for the green light before pulling away, accelerating the bus. Then, out of nowhere, a woman with a rolling suitcase darted across the road. His dad slammed the brakes, but how could he stop instantly? She was flung back like a ball, dying on the way to the hospital.
Turned out, she’d been rushing to catch a train. Her son-in-law had promised to drive her, but then plans changed. They’d argued, and in a huff, she’d dashed off, convinced she could make it. The train wouldn’t wait.
That same son-in-law later screamed in court that a drunk driver had killed his beloved mother-in-law and demanded the harshest punishment. Yes, the night before, the depot had thrown a retirement party, and there’d been drinks. But the morning medical check hadn’t flagged anything unusual. His dad wasn’t even a drinker. Yet somehow, the case records showed his blood alcohol level above the legal limit.
To avoid dragging his colleagues into it, his dad claimed he’d had a drink at his wife’s friend’s birthday party. He took the fall, and the others walked free. His mum wept constantly. Money grew tight. Nursery teachers didn’t earn much. Rodney announced he wouldn’t go to university—he’d start working instead.
“What, fancy the army now? Losing your dad wasn’t enough—you want something to happen to you too?” his mum sobbed.
To calm her, Rodney promised to keep studying. Just before graduation, his dad died of a heart attack in prison. Keeping his word, Rodney enrolled in university. Two years later, his mum remarried and moved in with her new husband. Rodney stayed behind in their flat. His mum covered the rent, gave him spending money—anything to keep him in education. She could afford it. Her new husband wasn’t just a civil servant—he was high up. Though Rodney couldn’t quite remember where or what rank.
When his uni mates found out he had a free flat, they started throwing parties there. Rodney, ever the hospitable host, even let them crash overnight.
At first, he loved the chaos. But then the endless noise and strangers—waking up to unfamiliar faces sprawled across his flat—wore him down.
The neighbours complained to his mum. She showed up early one morning to catch him at home. A naked girl stepped out of his room, completely unbothered, and walked right past her to the bathroom.
Of course, his mum blew up. She kicked everyone out and warned Rodney: if the drinking and orgies didn’t stop, the money would.
For two weeks, the flat was silent. Then his mates begged him to host a birthday party. They kept it low-key—but the drinking got out of hand.
In the morning, Rodney woke up with company—a naked girl beside him, tangled in the sheets, her back turned, fiery red hair fanned across the pillow. The only redhead in their group was Maisie Croft.
Rodney slipped out carefully, trying not to wake her. He remembered nothing, but figured if anything had happened, he wouldn’t have bothered putting his boxers back on.
A quick check confirmed they were alone. He showered, made coffee. The smell roused Maisie, who padded into the kitchen wearing his oversized shirt, mumbling nonsense, leaning into him. Rodney pushed her away.
“What’s your problem? Last night you said you loved me,” Maisie pouted, reaching for his mug.
“Don’t be daft,” Rodney said weakly. “Nothing happened. I’m not suicidal—if Jake found out, he’d flatten me.”
“We broke up. Didn’t you know? Why d’you think I got so wasted? He’s shagging that girl from fifth year, the twat.”
After ushering a sniffling Maisie into the shower, Rodney cleared the empty bottles, washed up, and aired out the flat. His mum could drop by unannounced.
They missed their lectures. Maisie begged him to skip and go to the cinema instead, but Rodney refused and headed to class. When his mates asked where Maisie was, he feigned ignorance—hadn’t she left with the others last night?
Maisie didn’t speak to him for two weeks. Then she cornered him, announcing she was late. Rodney played dumb, but his stomach lurched.
“I’m pregnant, stop acting thick,” Maisie snapped.
“How’s that my problem?” Rodney’s voice cracked. Inside, he felt sick.
“Of course it happened,” he thought, resigned, like a rabbit before a python. He suggested an abortion.
“I’m Rh-negative. It could mess me up for good,” Maisie whimpered.
“Maybe it’s Jake’s?” he asked desperately.
“We used protection. That night I was too pissed to care. You could’ve thought ahead. What am I supposed to do?” she wailed, burying her face in his chest. People stared.
Rodney caved. “I’m not ready to be a dad, but I’ll marry you if it’ll stop the crying.” Maisie kissed his cheek. The next day, she moved in from halls.
His mum screamed she’d seen this coming. Surprisingly, her husband backed Rodney. Decent bloke, after all. They married after summer exams—which Rodney nearly failed.
Maisie gave birth in early December—a beautiful baby girl with fair hair and blue eyes. Rodney stared, feeling nothing. His mum still worked full-time, couldn’t babysit. Maisie refused to move back with her parents, so she took a year off uni.
After lectures, Rodney rushed home. Exhausted, Maisie would shove the baby into his arms the second he walked in. He’d sit with textbooks in one hand, his daughter in the other. Sleepless nights left him groggy in class. They fought viciously, then Maisie would storm off to her mates’ halls.
“Sometimes I think you don’t want me or the baby. Did you marry me just for the flat?” he asked once. “Is she even mine? Or Jake’s? She was due after New Year’s.”
“Don’t believe me? Get a paternity test,” Maisie shot back coolly—then erupted.
They didn’t speak for a week, living like strangers. Through gritted teeth, Maisie issued orders: iron this, watch the baby. He cracked first. Eventually, things settled, but the bitterness lingered.
One day, Rodney came home to women’s shoes littering the hallway. “Maisie’s mates are over,” he guessed. Then he overheard:
“Lucky you—flat in the city, a husband. What if Rodney finds out the truth?”
“He won’t, unless you tell him. You won’t, will you?” Maisie pressed.
Rodney barged into the kitchen.
“So you *did* cheat. You weren’t at halls—you were with Jake!”
Maisie froze. Three pairs of eyes locked onto him. Rodney stormed out, straight to Jake’s dorm.
Jake was drinking with mates. Rodney swung first—Jake, fitter and faster, dodged and knocked him out cold.
“Maybe you and Maisie planned this,” Rodney slurred, wiping blood from his split lip.
“Maybe,” Jake smirked.
Rodney lunged again, but his mates held him back. At home, he told Maisie to leave.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m your wife. Polly’s legally yours. The law’s on my side. Here’s the deal: we sell the flat, split the money, and I won’t sue for child support. Deal?”And as Rodney watched his new wife and child sleep peacefully in their new home, he finally understood that sometimes, happiness finds you when you least expect it.
