The village of Pinebrook, nestled among the endless fields and birch groves of the countryside, breathed in the quiet of the evening. The wind whispered through the leaves, and the dim glow of lanterns lit the narrow lanes. Emily clutched her handbag as she approached the café where her birthday celebration was meant to be. But instead of cheerful voices, she heard the treacherous murmur of betrayal, a cold knot tightening in her chest.
“Skip this silly party,” drawled Thomas, leaning close to the ear of her best friend, Charlotte. His voice dripped with smugness. “Come to my place instead. Emily won’t be back till late.”
“Oh, of course,” Charlotte replied with a scoff. “And when she does return? Should I leap out the window?”
“Why bother?” Thomas slid an arm around her waist, utterly sure of himself. “Say the word, and I’ll end things with Emily. She doesn’t belong in my life.”
Emily froze, struck as if by lightning. She knew Charlotte—always one for fleeting dalliances—but Thomas? Three years they had been together. Three years she had waited for him to slip a ring on her finger. They lived in his new flat, bought on a mortgage. The bills, the debts, the endless repairs—all had fallen on her shoulders. She’d told herself it was temporary, that the registry office was just a formality. But now the veil had lifted. She was nothing more than a convenient stepping stone, a bridge across his financial woes. There would be no family. Not ever.
Six months ago, her mother had passed. Thomas had stunned her with his indifference—skipping the funeral, offering no help, only shrugging coldly.
“Sell something. You know I’ve got the mortgage, the renovations. Maybe your relatives can lend you something. Once you sell the house, you can settle up.”
“Settle up”—the words had cut like a blade. But she’d excused him then: tired, misspoken. She’d even admired his brooding silence. “A man who keeps everything inside won’t betray you,” she’d boasted to her friends. Charlotte had laughed along, hiding her schemes. Now the truth laid bare, Emily gasped for air, frantically waving down a passing cab. She flung herself inside, slamming the door.
“Just drive, please!” she urged the driver, as if fleeing a pursuer.
Before the car even moved, her phone rang—Thomas’s name flashing on the screen.
“Where are you? Everyone’s asking for you! What’s wrong?” His voice was thick with false concern.
Emily switched off the phone and hurled it out the window, tears streaming down her face. She wept like a child robbed of everything. The cab raced on, and suddenly, in her despair, she realized she’d never given an address.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Home,” the driver answered calmly.
Emily glanced around—the car was speeding down a dark country lane, far from the city.
“Home? Where?” Her pulse quickened with fear.
“Shall I name the street?” His tone held a mocking edge, rough and menacing.
“Stop the car! Now!” she shrieked, panic rising.
“Out here in the fields?” He chuckled darkly. “What would you even do?”
“I’ll call the police!” she blurted, then remembered—no phone. She had spilled her heart to this stranger—her pain, her betrayal. He knew no one would come looking. Leave her in the woods, and that would be the end.
She fumbled for the door handle in the dark, fingers scrabbling uselessly. Despair swallowed her whole. *Let it end, then,* she thought. *No more pain.* The tears flowed silently, hopelessly.
The car jolted to a halt. Without a word, the driver opened her door.
“Out.”
“No!” A fierce will to live flared in her. She wouldn’t surrender without a fight.
“Don’t be daft, Emily,” the driver said, softer now. “We’re here.”
She looked up—and froze. Standing before her was James, her old schoolmate. The one who’d left after graduation, made his fortune in the city.
“James?” she whispered, disbelieving.
“Who else were you expecting?” He smiled, warm and familiar.
“You—you’re a cabbie now?”
James laughed. “Hardly. I saw you waving like you meant to throw yourself under the wheels.”
“I thought—” She faltered, feeling foolish.
“I know everything,” he said, his hand resting on her shoulder. “A useful ride. You’ve never been so honest.”
Emily laughed, the tears drying, her heart strangely light. She stood outside her cottage in Pinebrook, and the world, for a moment, stopped crumbling.
“I came back because of you,” James murmured, entwining his fingers with hers. “Thank God you never married him.”
