“I did what I thought was right.”
“Hello, Katy, I can’t talk long—they’re beating up Nick,” the words hit like a bolt from the blue. Katherine froze, gripping the phone tightly. Her heart raced, adrenaline flooding her veins. Before she could even ask a question, the call cut off. Her husband had gone out for a pint at the pub with a mate after work—a normal Friday night. Now, everything had changed.
Katherine dashed to the door, snatched her keys, and ran outside. She tried calling Nick again and again, but he didn’t answer. Panic swelled with every passing minute. Finally, she reached his friend, who had been there when it happened.
“What the hell were you thinking, leaving him?!” she shouted into the phone, fighting back tears. “Why didn’t you help? Why call me instead of the police?!”
His friend stammered, trying to explain that he’d been scared and called her so she’d know what had happened. His shaky voice only stoked Katherine’s fury.
“You stepped back, didn’t you? Left my husband there alone! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” she snapped, not letting him get a word in.
She rushed to the scene, praying she wasn’t too late. But by the time she arrived, it was empty. A police car had already taken Nick away. Katherine stood alone in the middle of the street, utterly helpless.
The next morning, she went to the police station and learned Nick had been arrested for disorderly conduct. Some bystander had called the police, reporting a fight—but no one saw that a group of lads had attacked him and his mate. It looked like they’d started it.
Katherine was furious. She tried to explain that her husband was the victim, but the officers just shrugged. His friend—the one she’d desperately searched for—had gone home and slept soundly, unbothered by the night’s events.
She spent the whole day gathering evidence and tracking down witnesses. Finally, one person confirmed they’d seen Nick being jumped. That was enough to get him released.
That evening, Katherine met Nick outside the station. He looked exhausted and defeated. She hugged him tightly, pouring all her love and strength into that embrace. But inside, anger still burned. She couldn’t forgive his friend’s cowardice. Nick was lucky it hadn’t turned out worse.
Nick called his mate later:
“How could you just stand there and watch?”
“I don’t know, mate,” the friend mumbled. “I was terrified. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t. You know I’ve always been a coward. When I saw those blokes coming at you, my first thought was saving myself. It’s awful, but it’s the truth. I did what I thought was right.”
“Right,” Nick said flatly, ending the call. Some friend, he thought.
Later, the friend tried to explain that cowardice wasn’t a choice—it was just how he was. He wasn’t proud of it, but he couldn’t change. His whole life, he’d dodged fights, avoided trouble, and feared making decisions. That night just proved it again. He was sure his weakness shouldn’t ruin their friendship. They should just go to the pub, have a pint, and move on.
None of it mattered. Nick didn’t consider him a friend anymore.
