The village of Pinewood, nestled among endless fields and birch groves in the heart of the Cotswolds, hummed with quiet evening air. A soft breeze rustled the leaves as dim streetlights cast shadows along the narrow lanes. Katie clutched her handbag as she approached the small café where her birthday celebration was meant to be in full swing. Instead of cheerful chatter, she caught the betraying murmur of voices that twisted her heart into a knot.
“Skip this whole birthday thing,” drawled Jamie, leaning lazily toward Laura’s ear—her supposed best friend. His voice oozed smugness. “Come back to mine instead. Katie won’t be back till late.”
“Oh, brilliant idea,” Laura replied with a mocking lilt. “And when she does come back? Should I dive out the window?”
“Why bother?” Jamie slid an arm around her waist, full of misplaced confidence. “Just say the word, and I’ll toss Katie out. She doesn’t belong in my life anyway.”
Katie froze, as though struck by lightning. She knew Laura—always up for a bit of mischief—but Jamie? Three years together. Three years waiting for a ring, a promise, anything. They’d moved into his new flat, mortgaged to the hilt. The bills, the repairs, the debt—all on her shoulders. She’d called it temporary, convinced a wedding registry was just a formality. Now the truth hit like a bucket of cold tea. She was just his stepping stone across financial quicksand. There’d be no family. Not ever.
Six months ago, her mum had passed. Jamie’s response had been glacial—no help with the funeral, no sympathy, just a careless shrug. “Sell something off. You know I’ve got the mortgage, the bills. Maybe ask your aunt for a loan. Once you sell the house, you can settle up.”
“Settle up.” The words had cut deeper than a bread knife. But she’d made excuses for him—stress, a slip of the tongue. She’d even admired his brooding silence. “Real men don’t whinge, they just do,” she’d told her friends. Laura had laughed along, hiding her own plans. Now the truth was out, and Katie, breath ragged with hurt, wildly flagged down a passing cab. She flung herself inside and slammed the door.
“Faster, go faster!” she urged the driver, as if fleeing a crime scene.
Before the car had even pulled away, her phone lit up—Jamie’s name flashing.
“Where are you? I’m sitting here like a lemon with everyone asking about you! What’s got into you?” His voice dripped with hollow concern.
Katie powered off the phone and hurled it out the window in a fit of rage. Tears streamed down her face—great, gulping sobs, like a child who’d just lost everything. The cab sped on, and in her haze of misery, she realised she’d never given an address.
“Where are we going?” she asked, voice trembling.
“Home,” the driver said evenly.
Katie blinked. The car was racing down a dark country lane, far from any town.
“Home? Where?” Her pulse spiked.
“Need directions, do you?” His tone carried a mocking edge, rough and unsettling.
“Stop the car! Now!” she shrieked, panic rising like a tide.
“Out here in the fields?” The driver barked a laugh. “What’ll you do, petal? Call the police?”
She fumbled for a phone she no longer had. In a rush, she spilled everything—the betrayal, the ache—to this stranger. He knew no one would come looking. Dump her in the woods, and that would be that.
Katie grabbed for the door, fingers scrabbling for the handle in the dark. Hopelessness wrapped around her. “Fine,” she thought bleakly. “Let it happen. At least the pain stops.” Silent tears slid down her cheeks.
The car screeched to a halt. The driver wordlessly pushed her door open.
“Out.”
“No!” Suddenly, the will to fight roared back. She wouldn’t go down without a word.
“Don’t be daft, Katie,” the driver said, voice softening. “We’re here.”
She lifted her gaze—and there stood Max, her old schoolmate. The one who’d left Pinewood years ago, chasing big-city dreams.
“Max?” she whispered, disbelieving.
“Who else were you expecting?” His familiar grin warmed her like sunshine.
“You’re… a cabbie now?”
Max laughed. “Cabbie? Hardly. Saw you flailing like you were about to hurl yourself into traffic.”
“I thought—” She flushed, feeling foolish.
“I know everything,” Max said, draping an arm over her shoulders. “Good ride, though. Never heard you talk so much.”
Katie laughed, tears drying as the weight lifted. She stood outside her little Pinewood cottage, and the world felt a little less broken.
“Came back because of you,” Max murmured, threading his fingers through hers. “Suppose it’s a good thing you didn’t marry him, eh?”
