Sorry if you can manage it, mate.
Squeezing into the packed minibus, Lily quickly grabbed the only free seat before anyone else could. Her morning had been a disaster—her hair dryer broke, her husband moaned about his burnt eggs, and she’d rushed out without breakfast just to make it to work on time.
Normally, she’d hitch a ride with her husband—it was on his way—but he’d dropped the car off at the garage three days ago. The ride was long, so she turned to the window, watching the blur of people and buildings pass by. Something felt off, though she couldn’t quite place it. Then, out of nowhere, she felt someone staring. She turned and locked eyes with familiar grey ones—Ron, her first and heartbroken love. He grinned.
“Alright?” he said, sitting just across the narrow aisle. “Knew it was you straight away. You’ve barely changed.”
“Hello. Didn’t expect to see you,” she replied.
“How’ve you been?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said. “You?”
Part of her wanted him to say life had been miserable—that his wife had left him or something. Instead, he beamed. “Brilliant, actually. Wife’s doing well, son just graduated and is off to the coast for a holiday.” He went to say more but glanced out the window. “Ah, this is my stop—sorry!” He hopped off and waved through the window before the minibus pulled away.
Lily sat there, replaying his words. It wasn’t true that she hadn’t changed. She’d been a slender girl back then—now, in her forties, she’d softened a bit. Still, the compliment from Ron warmed her. Her heart hadn’t settled. She’d imagined this meeting for years—except in her head, she was wealthy and successful, and he was miserable. He’d aged too, bald now and solid, but his gaze was the same—not pitiful at all.
“Just my luck to run into him today,” she thought. “Morning’s been rubbish, and now this.”
She spent the rest of the ride mulling over the encounter. Why now? Why stir up old feelings? Memories rushed back—their dates, the wildflowers he’d picked for her, stolen kisses and promises. By the time she reached her stop, she was lost in it all.
Work dragged. She couldn’t focus. “Ron’s really thrown me off,” she muttered on the way home.
The second she walked in, her phone rang. “Lily, I’m picking the car up from the shop—might be late. Grab some dinner without me,” said her husband, Jack.
No appetite. She flopped onto the sofa, flicked on the TV, but saw nothing. Her mind tumbled back—how they’d fought over nothing, really. Then spotting him with another girl, arm in arm.
She’d met Ron through her mate, Vicky, who lived next door. Vicky loved playing Cupid, doling out advice Lily didn’t need. But back then, she’d listened.
Young love had been dizzying. Ron wrote her awful poems, and she adored them. She thought it’d last forever.
One afternoon, strolling arm in arm, they bumped into a woman who grinned at them. “Hello,” she said, eyeing Lily. Ron pulled his arm away and laughed.
“Hi, Mum!”
Lily went red. “H-Hello,” she stammered.
“Just visiting Gran—she’s poorly. You must be Lily?”
Ron nodded. “Don’t be shy, Lil. Mum’s chuffed we’re together.”
“Lovely to meet you,” his mum said kindly.
At first, Vicky meddled constantly. “You’ve got to pick fights, then make up—it’ll make him love you more,” she’d advised.
Lily played along—storming off, sulking, then kissing again. But one day, she’d had enough. “Why am I doing this? Vicky’s talking rubbish.”
She stopped listening. Vicky didn’t like that. “Look at you, all independent. Don’t come crying to me when it goes wrong.”
Time passed. On her birthday, Ron didn’t show. Vicky did. “Happy birthday! Ron’s not coming—had to rush to his gran’s. She’s ill. No idea when he’s back.”
No mobiles back then. No way to check.
A week later, still no Ron. She decided to visit his mum—but passing the pub, she spotted him laughing with mates. He glanced at her, then looked away. The lads roared with laughter.
She turned and ran home, sobbing. “Why? Why’d he do this?” Pride stopped her from confronting him. Later, she wished she had.
She pined for ages, crying in secret. “Maybe he’ll turn up, and we’ll fix everything.”
He didn’t.
A month later, Vicky returned. “Still moping? Ron’s seeing someone else. Forget him.”
Then she saw them—Ron and another girl. Hope lingered, but nothing changed.
One spring day, she stumbled upon a wedding crowd. The groom? Ron. They locked eyes.
“Alright?” he said breezily.
Her heart crushed. She walked past in a daze, cried all night, then vowed, “No more tears. He’s fine. I’m done.”
And she was. She left town, started fresh. A year later, she married Jack—reliable, kind. Did she love him? She wasn’t sure. But with time, she realised fate had given her a good man, two wonderful boys, a happy home.
Years later, visiting her mum, she ran into Vicky—older, worn down.
“Lily! You look gorgeous. Life’s been good to you.” Vicky sighed. “Listen… I need to say sorry. For everything.”
“Sorry? For what?”
Vicky’s voice cracked. “I lied to Ron. Told him you were seeing someone else. I set him up with that girl—told her to get pregnant so he’d marry her. I was jealous. You had what I never did.”
Lily froze. “Why?”
Vicky wiped her eyes. “Breaking someone’s heart? The shards cut you too. They’ve haunted me.”
Back then, Lily hadn’t forgiven her.
But today, seeing Ron again, she realised—she’d let it go. Maybe this meeting was meant to remind her: life works out as it should. She had her family. Who knows what would’ve happened with Ron?
Sometimes, things fall apart so better things can fall together.
