Between Truth and Dreams
Victoria wrapped herself in a thick tartan blanket, relishing the peace and quiet of her home. Beyond the window, snowflakes drifted lazily down, settling gently on the windowsill, swirling together in a silent winter dance. She had just returned from her final wedding dress fitting an occasion she had anticipated with nervous excitement. In her hands, she still clutched a bag filled with accessories: delicate pearl earrings, a fine tiara, and other trinkets to complete her wedding look. Her mind was full of the upcoming celebrations she pictured herself in her new dress, imagined the sparkle of the jewels against the fabric, and wondered what her guests would think as she entered the room.
The silence was abruptly broken by a shrill ring of the doorbell. Victoria flinched, gripping the edges of her blanket a little tighter. She glanced at the clock ten to seven. Who could possibly be calling at this hour? Perhaps a deliveryman with a forgotten parcel or perhaps her neighbour, Mrs Ellis, in need of a favour?
Victoria approached the door with caution, peering through the spyhole. She could not quite make out who it was a tall man, but his face was hidden in the shadow. She hesitated to open the door.
“Who is it?” she called out, doing her best to sound collected.
“Its me, Oliver,” replied a familiar, slightly muffled voice. “I need to talk to you. Its important.”
She paused. She didnt particularly want to talk to Oliver, but what if something had happened to Hannah? Reluctantly, she flicked the lock and opened the door just a crack. There was Oliver, framed in the porch light, snow melting off his shoulders and leaving damp patches on his dark overcoat. His face was pale, and his eyes glittered with a strange intensity. She had never seen him look quite like this and, for a moment, she wondered if shed done the right thing opening the door.
“Come in,” she said at last, stepping aside and doing her best to mask her discomfort. What else could she do slam the door in his face? “Youre drenched.”
Oliver strode into the lounge without bothering to remove his boots. The snow from his soles began to streak the pale hardwood, but his attention was elsewhere, fixed on something far away. Victoria watched him silently, feeling her nerves tighten. She didnt know what brought him to her door tonight, but one thing was certain: this was not going to be an easy conversation.
“Victoria” He turned to face her, twisting his gloves in his hands. “I cant do this anymore. Im in love with you!”
She froze, scarcely believing what she was hearing.
“Oliver, you…” she began, but her voice faltered, leaving the words unfinished.
Before she could continue, he stepped closer, as if afraid that, should he hesitate, his last chance would slip away.
“I know youre getting married. I know its mad! But I cant keep quiet! Ive spent months trying to move on, trying to stop thinking about you, but I cant. I should have told you long ago. I only ever started seeing Hannah because I wanted to be nearer to you to see you more often. But I never loved her. Not for a moment!”
Victoria felt the chill creep into her chest. What was he saying? That hed started dating her friend for his own selfish reasons? Poor Hannah she truly cared about him.
She let the blanket slide off her shoulders onto the armchair behind, seeking some reminder of reality. The air seemed suddenly thick, as if it weighed her down.
“Oliver,” she tried again, searching for the right words, “do you hear yourself? I have a fiancé. I love him. Were getting married soon, were planning a future together. And Hannah…”
He nodded, his gaze unwavering. There was a deep pain in his eyes, but also a grim resolve as if, finally, hed found the strength to confess.
“I know, but I can’t keep this in any longer. Soon you’ll be completely out of reach! Maybe now isnt right, but if I didnt tell you, Id regret it forever. As for Hannah she doesnt mean anything to me, can’t you see?”
Victoria recoiled internally. Her voice sounded distant, as though she was listening to someone else.
“How can you even say that?”
“Its the truth.” Olivers voice was steady, almost desperate. “Hannah was just a way to get closer to you. I thought that maybe one day youd finally notice me. See how kind, generous, and wonderful I can be. Realise that were meant to be together. Now I know my life is meaningless without you.”
He dropped to one knee, fumbling in his pocket for a small ring, which caught the light with its fine band and delicate stone.
“Leave him,” Oliver pleaded. “Be with me. I will make you happy, I swear.”
Victoria regarded him without a word. Memories flickered across her mind: Oliver laughing with Hannah at parties, quietly holding her hand, looking at her with such gentleness that even Victoria had felt happy her friend had found love. And now what? It was all false? The picture shattered, and she was left trying to fit the pieces together again.
“Please stand up,” she said softly, almost in a whisper.
Oliver rose slowly, hope fading from his eyes with each passing second.
“You dont believe me?” His voice trembled, exposing his vulnerability.
“I believe you,” she replied calmly, “I do. But it changes nothing.”
She edged back a little, needing space to think clearly. The words came with difficulty, but she knew they must be spoken plainly.
“Youre my friend, Oliver. But I love someone else. Im going to marry him because I believe hes the one. I dont need anyone else.”
He looked down, still clutching the ring, and asked quietly, “And if Id said something sooner? Before you met him?”
Victoria thought for a moment, then answered gently, “My answer would be the same. Im sorry, Oliver. I dont see you that way. Youre a good person, but youre simply not my type.”
He took a step forward, determination etched into his movements, as if fighting for this one last chance to change her mind.
“Why not?” he said, voice shaking. “Ive seen the way you look at me. I cant believe theres nothing between us.”
Victoria retreated towards the doorway. She was beginning to feel a twinge of fear; there was something unsettling in his eyes. She ran through all the options in her head. If she pushed him, he’d likely lose his balance and fall onto the sofa, giving her time to escape…
“Theres nothing between us, Oliver,” she said in as even a tone as possible. “What youre feeling isnt love. Its an obsession. Youve made up a story in your head where Im perfect and everyone else is just a means to an end. Please, lets finish this conversation.”
Olivers fists clenched, but not in anger rather in frustration. He searched for words to defend himself, to prove his point.
“Youre wrong,” he said, meeting her gaze. “Ive never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. This isnt fantasy or obsession. I love you!”
Victoria bit down on her lip, trying to control her own emotions. Heaven only knew what Oliver would do if she raised her voice. But she couldn’t just stand there and listen, especially now, when Hannah was involved.
“What about Hannah?” she pressed, searching his face for any remorse. “Do you realise how much youre hurting her? You played with her feelings, used her, and now you come here expecting me to leave everything behind for you?”
“I know Ive done wrong,” he whispered, eyes downcast. “I know it was terrible. But even if I could go back, Id probably make the same choice. I only want you.”
“You cant build happiness on someone elses misery,” Victoria said, shooting a quick glance at her phone. She needed to get to it. “And you cant love an imaginary version of a person. You hardly even know me we barely speak! Youre in love with your own idea of me, not reality.”
She paused, giving him time to digest what shed said. Then she continued:
“You need to talk to Hannah. She deserves the truth. You owe her an apology.”
Oliver hesitated, trembling hands clenching as he tried to compose himself. “Whats the point? Ive told you, I dont love her. She only irritates me but you… youre different.”
He looked at her, such sorrow in his eyes that she almost felt sorry for him. But she didnt let pity sway her it would be the wrong message. He might think she was agreeing.
“Theres no future for you and me,” she said. “Just as theres no future for you and Hannah. And if you think Ill keep this to myself, youre mistaken.”
Oliver stared at her, making her shiver involuntarily. Finally, he said, “Im going. But I wont give up. Ill wait until you realise were meant to be together.”
“Dont,” Victoria shook her head, uncertain whether shed detected a threat in his words. “Dont wait. Live your life. Find someone you can truly love, not some illusion. Now, please go.”
Oliver walked slowly to the door, every movement a battle, as though he was pushing against some invisible weight. At the threshold, he turned back.
“Thank you for being honest,” he said without drama or pride, “But Im not saying goodbye.”
He stepped out, gently closing the door behind him. Victoria was left alone, staring at the closed door as the tension drained from her. She moved to the window. Outside, the snow still fell under the mellow glow of the streetlights. She watched Oliver shuffle away, his shoulders slumped, each step heavy with defeat.
She worried about what Oliver might say to Hannah now. What if he lied? What if he tried to turn the situation to keep himself close to one of them? Pulling out her phone, she found Hannah in her contacts and hit call. Her heart thudded a little faster, but her voice was steady and, deliberately, matter-of-fact.
“Hannah, hello. We need to talk. Its important.”
There was some shuffling on the other end. When Hannah spoke, her voice was full of concern, “Are you alright? You sound tense.”
Victoria drew a short breath, composing herself. She didnt want to make things worse, but it had to be done.
“Oliver was just here,” she began, choosing her words with care. “He admitted that he only started seeing you because of me. He said hes never really loved you, that you were just a way for him to get closer to me.”
A long pause. Victoria pictured Hannah gripping her phone, trying to absorb the blow. The quiet lasted so long Victoria almost continued, but then Hannahs voice came back, shaken and brittle.
“So thats it? He really said How is that possible”
“Listen, I never wanted to upset you, but you deserve to know the truth. Youre my closest friend,” Victoria’s words tumbled out in a rush. “He told me he loves only me. That he wants me to leave my fiancé. Hannah, he wasnt himself. I was frightened, honestly.”
Another pause. Victoria heard her friend take a shaky breath.
“I see,” Hannah managed eventually, her voice strained but controlled, “What do we do now?”
“Im not sure,” Victoria said honestly. “Hell probably come to you now, but I have no idea what hell say. Are you at home on your own? Im honestly worried about his state of mind.”
Hannah was silent for a few moments, then replied quietly, “Dont worry. Ill be fine. Thank you for telling me.”
“Im sorry you had to hear it like this,” Victoria said sincerely.
“Its better to know. Better than living in a lie,” Hannah replied, her composure gradually returning.
They said their goodbyes, and Victoria put down the phone. Silence fell once more around her. She rested her forehead against the cold window pane, watching the snow drift down through the orange glow of the streetlamps. Somewhere out there, two people were both trying to make sense of their tangled feelings. And all Victoria could do was hope that time would see things right, and theyd each find their way.
She thought of Hannah, of how she must be hurting, how shed need time and strength to face the truth and remake her world. But Victoria knew bitter truth was always better than a comforting lie. The truth always surfaces, and when it does, the pain is doubled
***************
Meanwhile, Hannah sat at her kitchen table. Victorias words echoed through her head, mingling with memories and savaging her thoughts. She remembered the first time Oliver asked her out, his gallant attention, his shy, genuine smile, the way hed made her laugh. She remembered him squeezing her hand, whispering, “I love you,” straight into her eyes.
“He never loved me,” she repeated to herself. The thought didnt hurt, exactly it hollowed her out, as if the world shed worked so hard to build was suddenly made of fragile glass.
She lifted her teacup the tea had gone cold untouched. The only sound was the tick of the clock, marking out each second as if to say life marched on, no matter what.
She took a deep breath, rallying herself. She needed to decide what to do. Call Oliver? Wait? Ask Victoria to come over? But none of those seemed right yet. For now, she just needed time time to think through this new reality.
The doorbell made her jump. Shed just poured herself a fresh cup of tea, hoping to settle her nerves. Cautiously, she crossed the room, looked through the peephole. Oliver was there, snow-melt slicking his coat and hair, standing with that same uncertain resolve. For a moment, she almost didnt open the door.
When she did, he stood, pale and tired-eyed, looking like a man who hadnt slept or wandered aimless in the cold for hours. Determined, but lost.
“Hannah,” he began, not waiting for an invitation, “I have to tell you everything. I I never”
“Victoria already told me,” Hannah interrupted, her voice as level as she could muster. Hearing him say it was infinitely worse than hearing it from her friend. “I doubt theres anything left for you to add.”
Olivers shoulders sagged. He lifted his hand, almost as if to reach for her, but let it fall and stared at the floor instead.
“So she did call I hoped Id get here first. That I could explain myself in person.”
Hannah folded her arms, determined not to let him see just how wrecked she was. She wasnt going to cry or show weakness, but she couldnt stop the bitterness in her voice.
“Why are you here, Oliver? To repeat the same thing? Make me feel small? Remind me that I was only a way to get what you wanted?”
“No,” he took a step closer, but Hannah edged back, widening the gap between them. He looked up. “I came to apologise. For hiding the truth, for using you. For hurting you.”
He paused, groping for words that wouldnt wound further.
“I dont expect you to forgive me I dont deserve that. I just needed to say it to your face. I really am sorry.”
Hannah stood there, measuring her feelings anger, grief, contempt. Contempt, she realised, was all that really remained.
“You could have been honest earlier,” she said quietly, “You could have simply told me you didnt feel that way. But you thought only of yourself. You only came here because Victoria was slipping away. And now youre sorry?”
“I have nothing to say,” Oliver muttered, tucking his hands in his coat pockets. “It was my last chance. I wasnt thinking past that. Everything else I lost track of it.”
Slowly, he produced a little box the one hed held during his confrontation with Victoria. He opened it, offering her the ring with shaking hands.
“Here. Take it. Think of it as repentance.”
Hannah looked at the ring. It was simple yet elegant a thin gold band, a tiny diamond. Was it really meant for her? Or had he just wanted to assuage his guilt?
She returned her gaze, her eyes now cold and clear.
“Keep it,” she said, her tone neutral, devoid of any sentiment. “I dont want anything from you.”
Oliver closed the box, his face draining of colour.
“Hannah, please” His voice faltered, but he steadied himself. “I know I dont deserve forgiveness, but I want to put things right.”
She tilted her head, as if searching for the man shed once loved. All she could see was a stranger someone who had hidden his true self and built their relationship on empty words.
“Put things right?” she gave a sad, bitter laugh, “How? Marry me out of penance? Fling yourself under a train? None of this fixes what youve done.”
He flinched, but didnt look away. He recognised shed earned the right to say whatever she wished.
“I want to start again,” he said, risking another step closer, before stopping as Hannah bristled and shifted further away. “With honesty. Without lies.”
Hannah shook her head, her movements measured and deliberate, as if shed rehearsed this moment for weeks.
“You can only start again with someone you trust. I dont trust you, Oliver. You broke everything we had. Even if youre sorry, it wont change a thing.”
She paused to let the words settle in.
“I need time. Time and distance. I dont want to see you, or hear from you. Theres nothing left to fix.”
Oliver lowered his eyes, ring box shut tightly in his fist. He nodded.
“I understand,” he whispered. “I am sorry.”
He turned to leave, pausing at the doorway.
“If you ever want to talk”
“I wont,” she cut him off firmly, soft-spoken but sure.
She didnt get to finish the bell rang again. Who now?
She went to the door, peered through the glass. On the other side stood Andrew Victorias fiancé. Tall and squared, with neat dark hair and an impassive expression, he exuded a restrained energy, the kind that meant business.
Hannah opened the door. Andrew didnt smile, just asked politely, “May I come in?”
She stepped aside in silence. Oliver shrank back instinctively under Andrews icy gaze.
“I know whats happened,” Andrew said, fixing his eyes on Oliver. “I know how you treated them both of them.”
Oliver opened his mouth, but Andrew snapped, “Enough. Victorias told me everything. And Ive decided words arent enough this time.”
Andrew closed the space to Oliver, who backed up uneasily. Hannah tried to intervene.
“Andrew, please” but he waved her off.
“This is between Oliver and me now. Youve suffered enough. Its his turn.”
Hannah stood uncertain, torn between stopping Andrew and staying out of it. She still cared a little for Oliver, and didnt want him hurt, even after what he’d done.
But Andrews movements were swift and controlled he was used to ending things decisively. There was one solid punch. Oliver slumped to the floor, clutching his bleeding lip. The pain pulsed, giving way to humiliation.
“This is only a warning,” Andrew said coldly. “If you go near Victoria or Hannah again, itll be worse. Understood?”
Oliver didnt reply. With dignity in tatters, he wiped his lip, glanced at Hannah, searching for sympathy, but found only calm detachment.
He went to the door, hesitated as if to speak, but the chill in Andrew’s eyes made him think better of it. Without another word, he left, and the door clicked shut behind him, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.
Andrew turned to Hannah. His expression softened slightly.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I know violence isnt the answer, but sometimes its all that works.”
Hannah met his gaze, trying to come to terms with what had just occurred.
“You didn’t have to…” she began, trailing off. “Maybe you did. Im not sure. Thank you for standing up for us.”
He managed a small, reassuring smile.
“I understand what youre feeling,” he said, “Betrayal stings. But youre stronger than you know.”
She nodded, feeling a quiet resolve strengthening inside her. She really was strong. All she needed was time to recall it.
“Thank you,” she said. “And for looking out for me even if it was in your own way.”
“Victorias worried sick about you,” he added. “She was going to come herself, but I convinced her I could handle it.”
“Shes my best friend,” Hannah sighed, warmth in her tone. “And Im glad she has you.”
Silence returned. Beyond the window, snow blanketed the city, softening the corners of the day. Hannah breathed out slowly, the turmoil inside her finally beginning to quiet. She had work ahead of her rebuilding trust, hopes, and a future that felt lost. But she also knew she wasnt alone. She had support.
When Andrew left, Hannah closed the door and sat quietly on the sofa.
“Its over,” she thought. The realisation, oddly, lightened her heart. Though a dull ache remained, she knew this wasnt an ending, but a chance for a new beginning. A chance to learn to trust, to dream, and maybe, someday, to love again but differently this time, with eyes wide open
******************
Meanwhile, Oliver wandered aimlessly through the snowy streets. Snowflakes settled softly on his face, melting and mingling with the sting of his split lip. Physical pain was nothing compared to the emptiness spreading inside. A cold, heavy void.
He knew hed lost both of them. Hannah permanently. There could be nothing left between them now but unanswered questions and memories tinged with regret. Hed lost Victoria long before, in chasing something impossible and building castles on shifting sands of dishonesty. Hed destroyed what he had and now faced only loneliness and remorse.
The next day, Oliver went into work with a swollen lip and a bruise beneath his eye. Colleagues watched him with sidelong glances, whispering, but no one asked outright. He didnt offer any explanations. He didnt care what they thought. He just wanted the day to end.
One week later, he applied for a transfer out of London. His manager, surprised by the request, accepted it without much fuss after seeing Olivers resolve. Oliver knew he couldnt stay. Every street, every building, every face reminded him of his mistakes. Reminded him of the pain hed caused.
Before leaving, he returned the ring to the jeweller. The assistant looked puzzled, but said nothing. Oliver just handed it over, accepted the refund, and felt a weight lighten. He transferred the money to Hannah with the note: “Sorry. This is yours.” No explanations, just those plain, sincere words.
On his last day, Oliver stood waiting for a cab, snow drifting down in silent heaps over the city. He gazed up at the sky, filling his lungs with crisp, cold air, as if time itself had paused, granting him a moment to reflect.
“I ruined it all,” he breathed, not as a complaint but an admission. Some things cant be undone. Some mistakes must simply be carried.
The taxi arrived. Oliver cast a last glance at the building hed once called home, now just bricks and slate no more memories, no more pain. He slid into the car and quietly asked for the station.
The car pulled away. Snow swirled beyond the window, erasing the familiar streets from view. Oliver kept his eyes forward, towards the unknown, accepting there was a long journey ahead a journey in which, perhaps, he might find a way to begin again.
While he left, Hannah was sitting in a small, cosy café with Victoria and Andrew. Three mugs of hot chocolate steamed between them just the thing for this weather.
Their conversation was gentle, easy. They talked about the future dreams, plans, small hopes. Victoria rehearsed the details of her upcoming wedding, the joy in her voice gradually returning. Hannah listened, and slowly, she found a sense of calm settling around her. Life, she realised, really does go on. There is light up ahead, new possibilities.
Andrew, usually so reserved, was attentive that day. He listened more than he spoke, but when he did, his words helped the conversation flow.
“You know,” Hannah said at last, gazing out at the snow as it spun under the orange lamps, “Im not even angry at him anymore. I just regret how it ended.”
Her tone was even, without bitterness, simply accepting what had been.
Victoria squeezed her shoulder.
“You dont have anything to regret,” she said, voice kind but resolute. “You deserve something real. Not pretense, not games.”
Hannah nodded. She believed her friends words not just for comfort, but because they rang true.
“Yes,” she agreed, meeting Victorias eyes, “and I will find it.”
Her confidence wasnt forced. It was the quiet certainty of someone who knows the past is behind her, and the future is a road she has to walk.
Outside, the snow continued to fall, cloaking the city in white and smoothing away the scars left by the evening. One story had ended, but a new one was beginning. The café was warm and peaceful, the chocolate cooling in their cups, and the three of them felt, amidst everything, that life does indeed move forward and that, above all else, was what mattered.
