Katharine was scrubbing the bath when William burst into the flat, his face twisted with fury and panic.
“What have you done?!” he bellowed, slamming the door behind him.
Katharine straightened at once and stepped into the hallway.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, staring at him in confusion.
“Why did you go to her?!” he snarled, inches from her face.
“To who?” Katharine’s eyes widened.
“Eleanor! I warned you! I begged you not to interfere!”
“Will, can you just explain what happened?”
“You told her?! About us?!” William was breathing heavily, wiping sweat from his brow.
“Yes, I did. And she understood, you know? She said she wouldn’t stand in the way of our happiness. I’ve even started looking at wedding dresses—look how lovely this one is!”
“Dresses? A wedding?!” William let out a bitter laugh. “Katharine, have you lost your mind?”
“I thought you’d be grateful,” she said earnestly. “I did all this so you wouldn’t have to suffer. You said she was fragile, that she’d fall apart if you left. But she’s stronger than you thought. She let you go.”
William sank slowly into a chair, then stood and stared at Katharine as if seeing her for the first time.
“You don’t understand…” He trailed off, grabbed his bag, and left without bothering to shut the door.
He could never leave Eleanor. Not now, not ever. Because she had pulled him from the gutter when his wallet held little more than fifty pounds. She had given him everything—work, a roof over his head, a car, status. All he’d ever dreamed of while crammed in a tiny flat with his mate.
Once, he had been just another sales clerk, scraping by from paycheque to paycheque, skipping meals to afford a coffee shop visit once a month. Girls noticed him, but it never went anywhere—either they were stuck in rented rooms or commuting from the suburbs on the Tube. He wanted more—a taste of the good life, luxury, success.
That’s how he ended up in the fitness club—thanks to a free trial pass. And that’s where he spotted Eleanor. Elegant, poised, self-assured. A decade older, but with a charm impossible to resist. And, most importantly, wealthy. She had her own business.
He arranged “chance” meetings, and before long, Eleanor offered him a job—double his old wage. Then a place to stay. Then a car. Eventually, he woke each morning in her flat, drove her car, worked in her company. Everything was decided for him. All he had to do was nod.
But comfort bred ingratitude. He started believing he deserved more. That’s when Katharine came along—young, lively, carefree. They met in secret. She knew about Eleanor and wanted him to leave. He stalled.
Then, when Katharine announced she was pregnant, he vanished. Ignored her calls. So she went straight to Eleanor.
But Eleanor didn’t weep. Didn’t make a scene. She just listened, thanked Katharine, and said,
“If there’s a child, it belongs with you. I won’t stand in your way. Not for a moment.”
When William returned home, his suitcases waited by the door. Eleanor handed him the keys and wished him well. He stammered that Katharine had made it all up, that it was a trick. No one listened. He walked out—jobless, carless, homeless.
By dusk, he’d found a room in a dismal boarding house. Two weeks later, he landed work at a furniture shop—fancy title, “floor manager,” though in practice, he just explained the difference between sofas to baffled customers. He blocked Katharine, his last message reading: “Sort it out yourself.”
He never felt guilty. In his mind, blame lay everywhere—on women, on fate, on anyone but himself.
Katharine soon learned the test had been false—no baby after all. But the hurt remained.
“I trusted him,” she sobbed to her friend. “He used me.”
“Katharine, you’re a grown woman,” her friend sighed. “Believing in fairy tales? A ‘boy who runs the whole company’? Don’t be such a fool.”
“But I thought—”
“Exactly. And you shouldn’t have.”
