By his thirtieth birthday, Tom had spent a decade serving in conflict zones, survived two serious injuries, and somehow made it home. After his last wound took months to heal in a military hospital, he returned to his quiet village in Yorkshire.
The place had changedso had the people. His old schoolmates were all married, but one day, he spotted Lucy. He barely recognised her. When hed left for the army, shed been a skinny thirteen-year-old. Now, at twenty-five, she was stunningand still single. She hadnt met anyone worth marrying, and she wasnt the type to settle just for the sake of it.
Tom was broad-shouldered, steady, with a strong sense of right and wrong. He couldnt just walk past her.
“Did you wait for me, then?” he teased, grinning at her. “Still not married?”
“Maybe,” she said, cheeks flushing as her heart leapt.
From then on, they were inseparable. Late autumn leaves crunched underfoot as they walked through the woods one evening.
“Tom my father wont allow us to marry,” Lucy murmured. Hed already proposed twice. “You know what hes like.”
“Whats he going to do? Im not afraid of him,” Tom said firmly. “If he lays a hand on me, hell land in prisonthen he wont be in our way.”
“Dont say things like that,” she whispered. “You dont know him. Hes ruthless, and he controls everything here.”
William Hayes was the most powerful man in the village. Hed started as a farmer, but rumours swirled about his shady dealings. Barrel-chested, with a cold stare, he was feared. He owned two large farms, employed half the village, and acted like he was above the law.
“Father will never let us marry,” Lucy said. “He wants me to wed his business partners sonsome lout named Darren. A drunk, no less. Ive told him a hundred times I wont.”
“This isnt the Middle Ages,” Tom scoffed. “No one gets forced into marriage anymore.”
He adored everything about herher fiery temper, her gentle smile. She couldnt imagine life without him either.
“Come on,” he said suddenly, gripping her hand and quickening his pace.
“Where?” She knew but didnt stop him.
William was in the yard of his sprawling estate, talking to his younger brother, Simon, who lived in the guesthouse and did his bidding.
“Mr. Hayes,” Tom announced. “Id like to marry your daughter.”
Lucys mother stood frozen on the porch, hand over her mouth, dreading her husbands reaction.
Williams face darkened. He glared, but Tom held his gaze. The sheer nerve of this lad astonished him.
“Get out,” William growled. “Who do you think you are? My daughter will never marry a broken-down soldier. Forget this nonsense.”
“Well marry anyway,” Tom said calmly.
The villagers respected Tom, but William had never known war. To him, money was everything. Tom clenched his fistsSimon stepped between them, sensing neither would back down.
As Simon escorted Tom off the property, William dragged Lucy inside like a child. He never tolerated defiance.
That same night, in the damp autumn air, Toms newly opened garage went up in flames.
“That bastard,” Tom muttered. He knew exactly whod done it.
The next night, he crept to Lucys house. Hed texted her earliershe packed a bag, climbed out her window, and leaped into his arms.
“By morning, well be far away,” he whispered. “I love you.”
She trembled. “Im scared.”
Ten minutes later, they were speeding down the A1. Her breath hitched with nervesuntil headlights flashed behind them. A Mercedes swerved ahead, blocking the road.
“No,” she gasped.
William dragged her out. Tom lungedbut a fist sent him sprawling. They beat him silently, brutally, then drove off, leaving him on the roadside.
He staggered home, bruised and broken. The fire investigation blamed faulty wiring, but Tom knew better. Worse, Lucy vanished. No calls, no textsher phone was dead.
William had sent her to his sister Margarets in Manchester, with a wad of cash and a warning:
“Keep her inside. No phone. And if you dare return,” he hissed at Lucy, “Ill bury that boy in the woods. Easy.”
“William, youre mad,” Margaret sighed. “Why ruin her life?”
She led Lucy to a spare room. Theyd wait until he cooled off.
William spread word that Lucy was marrying Darren soonnever coming back.
“Give it time,” Margaret said. “Youll find work, build a life.”
“Without Tom?”
“Without him.”
Weeks later, Lucy discovered she was pregnant. Margaret held her as she sobbed.
“Your father cant know.”
Lucy screamed into a pillow. She didnt care about her fathershe needed Tom. But her phone was gone, and she didnt know his number.
“I hate him!” she wailed. “Hes a monster.” Margaret stayed silent. He was.
Time passed. Tom couldnt forget her. He worked, drank briefly, hated it, stopped. Meanwhile, Lucy gave birth to a boyJamesa mirror image of Tom. Her mother visited secretly, doting on her grandson. William never knew.
Four years later, William was dying. Cancer, too late to treat. His wife weptnot for him, but for herself. Shed endured his cruelty for decades.
At the funeral in June, few mourned. “Got what he deserved,” some muttered.
Tom was away on contract work, drifting. Then Lucy returned to the village with James. Her mother, finally free, had removed Williams photos.
One afternoon, Lucy sat on a fallen log in the woods, watching James chase butterflies. A breeze stirred her hairand then she felt him.
“Lucy.”
They crashed into each other. Tom was harder now, his eyes weary. She was as beautiful as ever.
“Tom, Im sorryabout everything. You have a son,” she blurted. “I never married Darren. Father lied.”
Tom froze as James ran over. No words were neededthe boy was him, reborn.
“Dad!” James beamed. “Buy me a football?”
“Right now, lad,” Tom laughed, lifting him high. “Mums coming too.”
Lucy smiled through tears. Fate had brought them backand fate rewards the grateful.
