“Did I imagine it, or are we back together?” Emily pressed herself against Jake.
“So, what do you think? Not bad, right?” Sophie spun in front of the mirror, trying on a pair of trousers. “Em, you’ve got to stop moping. Go somewhere, change the scenery, distract yourself. Fall in love, for heaven’s sake.” Sophie shoved her hands into her pockets and bent one knee. “No, I definitely like these. If you don’t mind, I’ll take them. Thanks.” She jumped onto the sofa next to Emily, hugged her, and planted a kiss on her cheek.
Emily sighed, got up, and walked over to the mirror.
“You’re right. I look dreadful. Lost weight, pale as a ghost. I was the one who ended things, and now I regret it. You convinced me. Tomorrow I’ll request leave. No—first, I’ll book the earliest train ticket, then sort the leave.” For the first time all evening, Emily smiled.
“That’s the spirit,” Sophie cheered.
And the smile transformed her. It wasn’t just her lips—her eyes crinkled into little crescents, sparkling with joy. “Cheeky little imp,” Sophie called it. But lately, Emily hadn’t smiled much.
Jake fell for her because of her laugh. She and Sophie were sitting on a bench near the office, eating ice cream and cracking up over something. A guy walked past, glanced at them, and kept looking back. They only laughed louder, more infectious.
Two days later, they were there again. This time, the guy—Jake—walked straight up. He stopped in front of Emily and said hello.
“Who are you?” Sophie blurted, and they both burst into giggles.
“Jake. I’ve been coming here every day hoping to see you again. You were here two days ago… Your laugh…” He couldn’t take his eyes off Emily.
She realized he was serious—that he fancied her, that he was afraid she’d brush him off. She smiled, and when his mouth dropped open in delighted surprise, she laughed—not mockingly, but happily, because no one had ever looked at her like that before. Mischievous sparks danced in her narrowed eyes. Later, he’d tell her that was why he fell for her, not Sophie, who was more striking, more polished.
Jake won her over with his enthusiasm, his attention, his love. They moved in together and spent two years like that. And then… It was time to propose or go their separate ways. Things had grown too comfortable, too ordinary.
Jake grew quiet. Her laugh didn’t enchant him anymore. So Emily decided his love had faded. Rather than wait for him to say it, she ended things herself.
He objected—half-heartedly—then packed his things and left. Two weeks later, Emily realized her mistake. Without him, it was worse. A month in, she was climbing the walls with loneliness. Two months on, she knew she couldn’t live without him.
Then Sophie turned up, complaining that her bloke had invited her to a gig. She’d bought a gorgeous blouse, but none of her trousers matched. Emily offered hers—they were too big now, after all the pining over Jake.
“Then get him back before he shacks up with someone else,” Sophie said.
“No. Then he’ll think I depend on him, on his love. Like I’m submitting to him,” Emily mused.
“That’s not a bad thing—submitting to the man you love.”
“And what if we get back together and I feel that boredom, that distance again?”
“You overthink everything. Open your laptop—let’s book your tickets,” Sophie said.
Surprisingly, they found cheap tickets for the perfect date—two weeks away.
Emily convinced her boss to approve leave, saying she’d lose her mind if she didn’t escape the city. She was nervous about travelling alone—she’d always gone with her parents, Jake, or Sophie and her boyfriend. Never by herself.
“You’re a smart, grown woman. But still, be careful,” Sophie warned at the train station.
She’d refused to fly—flights only went to Brighton, which was expensive and crowded, and she wanted peace. The train was better. Lying on her bunk, watching the countryside flash by. Dozing to the rhythm of the wheels, dreaming of the sea. Stepping off the dusty train and breathing in that unmistakable coastal air, diving straight into the waves…
Emily didn’t want serious, long-term love anymore. It brought too much pain, disappointment, and fear—that one day it’d fizzle out, and she’d have to start over.
“You’re nearly thirty. That time when everything’s ahead of you? It’s gone. Love changes. It’s never perfect—just like people. Mutual love is rare. You’ve got to choose—would you rather love or be loved? So take what’s given. Just live. Be happy. Don’t overthink it,” Sophie said, while Emily kept scanning the crowd for Jake.
Her train companions were an elderly couple and their teenage grandson. A spotty, scrawny kid stared at her without blinking. At first, she pretended not to notice. Fine, let him look. Maybe it was his first time sharing close quarters with a pretty woman.
Then it got annoying, so she stared back until he flushed and looked away. Victory—no more gawking.
His grandad slept or did crosswords the whole ride. His grandma moaned about their son’s divorce, both parents too busy rebuilding their lives to care for the boy. “And we’re too old for this! Then they packed us all off to the seaside…”
They arrived safely. Emily searched forever for the right room—one by the shore, with a sea view, where she could wake to the sound of waves and seagulls. She found it—far from the main beach. Perfect. Swimming and sunbathing alone beat crowded shores full of lobster-red bodies and shrieking kids.
She spent her days walking the coast, meditating as she watched the horizon, the distant white sails of a boat. She tanned, glowed again, and found peace.
Then a handsome stranger appeared. Loneliness had worn thin, so she welcomed the company. Daniel said he’d noticed her, that he, too, preferred solitude. They had loads in common—he’d recently divorced and was healing by the sea. They walked, swam, dined in cafés, strolled the promenade at night. Shared pain was a powerful bond.
It might’ve stayed just that—except one evening, Daniel turned up late and tossed a pebble at her window. She was ready for bed.
“I came to say goodbye,” he said sadly. “Just got a call—my dad’s in hospital. I leave first thing. I can’t bear to go… You’re everything I ever wanted.”
Emily was gutted but hid it. She opened the window and let him in. What a night it was—not just sex, but real closeness. She forgot everything. She fancied him—no, more than that. She was in love.
“I’ll call. Once Dad’s better, I’ll come back,” he whispered.
They swapped numbers. She gave him her home address. Exhausted, she fell into a deep sleep by dawn.
When she woke, he was gone—slipped out the way he came.
She texted: *Safe travels. Miss you already.* He replied: *Thanks for an unforgettable night!* with a heart-eyed emoji.
After he left, the loneliness became unbearable. She thought of him constantly, trembled at the memories, clutched her phone, willing it to ring. When it didn’t, she called—his number was disconnected. Her messages went unread. She refused to believe he’d tricked her, clung to hope.
The next day, she realized her money was gone—just loose change left. The truth hit her: she’d been scammed. For days, she mourned her fleeting happiness, her naivety. At least she’d booked her return ticket.
Sophie had warned her. Maybe he wasn’t even divorced—just conning lovestruck women out of cash while his family waited.
Then she realized—her keys. She hadn’t hidden them well, just tucked them in her suitcase’s outer pocket. It had a zip—they couldn’t have fallen out. The landlady had no use for keys to a London flat… but the man she’d given her address to? He could’ve taken them with the cash before dawn. Idiot.
The pain was unbearable. And she didn’t yet know what awaited her at home.
A neighbour heard her sobbing on the stairwell, called a locksmith. When the door swung open, the sight made her knees buckle—cupboard doors gaping, her new laptop gone, her fur coat, jewellery, anything valuable.
The neighbour said she’d heard footsteps the night before—assumed Emily was back early.
“Call the police,” the neighbour urged.
Emily crumpled onto the sofa and wept.
What was the point? She knew nothing about him—his name was probably fake. He’d sell the stuff or gift it to his wife and kids. They’d laughShe wiped her tears, squeezed Jake’s hand, and whispered, “Let’s go home.”