The village of Pinebrook, tucked away amidst endless fields and birch groves in the Yorkshire countryside, hummed with quiet stillness. An evening breeze whispered through the leaves, and dim lamplights flickered along its narrow lanes. Katy clutched her handbag as she approached the café where her birthday gathering was meant to be. But instead of cheerful voices, she caught the cruel murmur of betrayal, and her heart clenched like a fist.
“Forget this silly party,” drawled Arthur, leaning too close to Lara, Katy’s supposed best friend. “Come back to mine. Katy won’t be home for hours.” His voice dripped with smugness.
“Right, like that’ll end well,” Lara scoffed. “And when she does show up? Should I dive out the window?”
“Why bother?” Arthur slipped an arm around her waist, oozing confidence. “Say the word, and I’ll kick Katy out. She doesn’t belong in my life.”
Katy froze, thunderstruck. She knew Lara—her flirtations were no secret. But Arthur? Three years together. Three years waiting for a ring. They’d moved into his new flat, bought on a mortgage. The repairs, the bills, the debts—all on her shoulders. She’d called it temporary, convinced the registry office was just a formality. But now the scales fell. To him, she was just convenient—a bridge over his financial woes. There’d be no wedding. Never.
Six months ago, her mum had passed. Arthur’s coldness had shocked her then. Skipped the funeral, dodged helping, just tossed out, “Sell something. You know I’ve got the mortgage, the renovation. Maybe your family can lend a hand. Once the house sells, you’ll settle up.”
“Settle up.” The words cut like glass. But she’d excused him—stressed, misspoken. She’d even bragged to friends about his brooding silence. “A man who keeps it all inside won’t betray you.” Lara had laughed along, hiding her own game. Now the truth was out, and Katy, gasping from the sting, frantically waved down a passing cab. She scrambled in, slamming the door.
“Go, go!” she urged the driver, as if fleeing a chase.
The cab had barely pulled away when Arthur’s call lit up her phone.
“Where are you? I’m here like an idiot, everyone’s asking for you! What’s wrong?” His voice reeked of fake concern.
Katy switched off the phone and hurled it out the window. Tears flooded; she sobbed like a child robbed of everything. The cab raced on, and in her despair, she realised—she hadn’t given an address.
“Where are we going?” she asked, voice trembling.
“Home,” the driver replied calmly.
Katy blinked. The cab was speeding down a dark country lane, far from the city.
“Home where?” Her pulse spiked.
“Need me to spell it out?” His tone turned rough, mocking.
“Stop! Now!” Panic clawed at her.
“Out here in the fields?” He barked a laugh. “What’ll you do, pick daisies?”
“I’ll call the police!” she blurted—then remembered her phone was gone. She’d spilled her guts to this stranger: the betrayal, her pain. He knew no one would miss her. Dump her in the woods, and that’d be it.
Katy scrabbled for the door handle in the dark, fingers slipping. Despair swallowed her. “Fine,” she thought. “Let him end it. No more hurt.” Tears fell, resigned.
The cab screeched to a halt. The driver shoved her door open.
“Get out.”
“No!” Sudden, fierce will to live surged—she wouldn’t go without a fight.
“Don’t be daft, Katy.” His voice softened. “We’re here.”
She looked up—and froze. There stood Max, her old schoolmate. The one who’d left after graduation, made his fortune in the city.
“Max?” she whispered.
“Who else?” He grinned, warm and familiar.
“You’re a cabbie now?”
Max chuckled. “What, me? Saw you flailing like you meant to leap into traffic.”
“I just…” She flushed, feeling foolish.
“I know everything,” Max said, steering her gently. “Good ride, though. Never heard you so honest.”
Katy laughed, tears drying, her heart lighter. She stood outside her Pinebrook cottage, and the world, for once, stopped crumbling.
“Came back because of you,” Max murmured, threading his fingers through hers. “Lucky you never married that git.”
