Maxwell Clarke walks into the office and grins. Guess what, Tara? Weve got a new team member Poppy. Shes brilliant!
Tara Bennett sets a plate of scrambled eggs on the table and sits opposite him. Sunlight streams through the lace curtains, tinting the room a soft gold. She props her chin with her hand and smiles.
Maxwell slides his phone aside.
Brilliant? Whats caught your eye? he asks.
Yes, everyone thinks so, Tara lights up. We chatted yesterday and discovered we share a lot. She loves rock climbing, goes to the same gym I used to frequent, and reads the same books. Its like they cloned me and placed her in the office.
Maxwell laughs and reaches for his coffee.
Sounds great. Youve needed a work mate for ages.
Exactly! Tara picks up her fork but doesnt eat. She wants to keep talking. Shes also crazy about hiking. Weve already pencilled in a trip for next month. She talks so honestly, without any pretense.
Maxwell nods, taking a bite of his toast.
Thats perfect. Can you introduce us?
Of course! Lets host a dinner this weekend. Ill cook, well sit, chat.
Sure, Maxwell replies easily. Why not?
Tara nods, turning back to her omelette. Inside, everything feels joyous. She loves her job, shes been with her boyfriend for three years, and now she has a new friend who fits right in. Life almost seems flawless.
Two weeks later, Tara prepares a dinner at her flat. She scrubs the kitchen until it shines and roasts a rosemary chickenMaxs favourite. Poppy arrives carrying a bunch of tulips and a cake.
Wow, Tara, this place feels so cosy! Poppy exclaims, looking around. I could stay here forever.
Tara laughs and takes the flowers.
Thanks. Max, this is Poppy. Poppy, meet Maxwell.
Maxwell extends his hand, smiling.
Pleasure. Tara has told me so much about you I feel like Ive known you for a hundred years.
Likewise, Poppy replies, shaking his hand. Shes always saying youre the most patient person alive.
Must be, Maxwell winks at Tara. You need a lot of patience with a lively girl like me.
The evening goes perfectly. Maxwell and Poppy instantly click, discovering a shared love of classic cinema and 70s rock. They quote favourite films, argue over which is better, and laugh loudly.
Tara sits between them, her smile never fading. Her two favourite people are becoming friends. What could be better?
After that night they start meeting up as a triogoing to the movies, art galleries, weekend hikes. Maxwell even suggests inviting Poppy more often, saying its never dull with her.
Tara feels thrilled.
Gradually, however, she notices odd changes. Maxwell begins staying later at work, whereas he used to leave on time. He texts her less during the day and calls infrequently. When she brings up future plansbuying a house, weddinghis replies are short and evasive, as if the topics weigh on him.
Poppy also shifts. Occasionally Tara catches Poppy watching her, eyes quick and assessing, as if she wants to say something but hesitates, then smiles and changes the subject.
One evening Tara lounges in the living room while Maxwell cooks in the kitchen. His phone rests on the table nearby and buzzes. She glances automatically. Its a message from Poppy, timestamp just before midnight: Thanks for today.
Taras heart clenches. She puts the phone down, stares at the wall. What does it mean? When did they meet today? Maxwell said he was stuck at work.
She tries to dismiss the thought, convincing herself that perhaps they ran into each other by accident or discussed a work matter, even though Maxwell works for a different firm. She berates herself for being jealous, insisting theyre just good friends and shes making a mountain out of a molehill.
But the unease lingers.
In March the three of them drive up to a cabin on the shores of Windermere, a weekend theyve been planning for months. Tara looks forward to forest walks and bonfire evenings. Poppy is eager from the start, and Maxwell backs her up. They rent a lakeside cottage, bring tents and climbing gear.
From day one, the atmosphere feels off. Tara watches Maxwell and Poppy exchange glances, fall silent whenever she steps into the room. On the second day they wander alone along the lake while Tara rests after a climb. Maxwell tells Poppy hes just showing her the old chapel the local ranger mentioned.
Tara nods, but something tightens inside her.
On the final evening they all sit by the fire. Both men and women look bewildered, guilty. Maxwell avoids Taras eyes, and Poppy does the same. Tara tries to draw them out, but their answers are monosyllabic.
That night Tara cant sleep. It feels as if something has shattered irreparably.
A week after returning, Maxwell texts: Tara, we need to talk. Meet me at the café?
Tara sits at her desk, eyes glued to the screen, a knot of dread forming.
At five oclock she arrives at the café. Maxwell is already at a window table, Poppy beside him.
Tara pauses at the door, a fleeting urge to turn and leave, but her feet carry her to the table. She sits without taking off her coat.
Whats happening? she asks, glancing between them. Both wear guilty expressions.
Maxwell stares at his napkin, tearing it into tiny pieces. Finally he looks up.
Tara, I dont know how to say this. We didnt plan it. It just happened.
Tara clenches her fists under the table.
In Windermere we finally realised we fell for each other, Maxwell whispers. We tried to fight it. Really tried. But we cant hide it any longer.
Poppys eyes well up, mascara smearing down her cheeks.
Tara, Im sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Youre my best friend, but this feeling is stronger than us both.
Poppy reaches out.
Tara pulls her hand back. Anger, betrayal, pain swirl into a knot lodged in her throat.
Stronger than us? Tara asks, voice rising. You were behind my back while I was planning a wedding, thinking about children, a future together? How could you both do that? What did I do to deserve this?
Tara, we didnt want
Didnt want? she shouts. A few other patrons glance over, but she doesnt care. You were meeting in secret! Sending each other messages at night! And now youre pretending it wasnt your choice? This is betrayal, Max. The worst thing you could do to me.
I know, Maxwell says, eyes fixed on the table. I know Ive been awful. I cant keep lying to you. I cant pretend everythings fine.
And you? Tara turns to Poppy. You said I was your best friend. How could you?
Poppy sobs, covering her face with her hands.
Im sorry. I didnt see it coming. We just talked, spent time together, and then realized it was more than friendship.
Tara stands, the chair screeching back. She grabs her bag, eyes them one last time.
I dont want to see you again. Never.
She walks out of the café into the cold night, tears streaming down her face, not wiping them away. She keeps moving, not caring which direction, until she reaches the tube station.
The next day Tara submits a transfer request to the London branch of her firm. Her manager is surprised but doesnt pry. Her good reputation speeds the approval.
Poppy tries to call, but Tara has blocked the number. Maxwell sends a few messages; she deletes them unread. He collects his belongings from her flat while shes out. The apartment feels empty; her shoes sit where his sneakers once were.
Two weeks later Tara is settled in Manchester, unpacking in a new flat. Her parents disapprove of the move, but she is determined to start fresh, far from memories of Maxwell and Poppy.
The first months are tough. She returns to rock climbing, now solo, which helps mend the cracks inside her.
One day a mutual acquaintance from London texts her: Max and Poppy moved in together. Been living as a couple for two months now.
Tara reads the message and switches off her phone.
The pain doesnt vanish, but it dulls. She stops crying at night, stops replaying their last encounter. She simply keeps living, day by day.
Tara loses not just a boyfriend and a friend, but her faith in peoples honesty and the belief that friendship can be pure. Still, she decides to rebuild her life, this time more cautiously welcoming new people.
The ache will linger for a long time, but Tara knows she will get through it, because she has no other choice.
