“Did I imagine it, or are we together again?” Emily pressed herself against James.
“How do I look? Not bad, right?” Charlotte spun in front of the mirror, trying on a pair of trousers. “Em, enough moping. Go somewhere—change the scenery, distract yourself, fall in love at last.” She shoved her hands in her pockets, bending one knee. “No, I definitely like them. If you don’t mind, I’ll take them. Thanks.” She bounded over to Emily, plopped onto the sofa beside her, hugged her, and planted a kiss on her cheek.
Emily sighed, rose from the sofa, and walked to the mirror.
“You’re right. I look dreadful. Lost weight, pale. I was the one who ended things, and now I regret it. Fine, you’ve convinced me. Tomorrow I’ll put in for leave. No—first I’ll book the earliest train, then ask for leave.” For the first time all evening, Emily smiled.
“That’s the spirit,” Charlotte encouraged.
The smile transformed her. It wasn’t just her lips—her eyes crinkled, sparks of joy flickering in them. “Cheeky little devil,” Charlotte used to say. But lately, Emily hadn’t smiled much.
It was her laugh that had made James fall for her in the first place. She and Charlotte had been sitting on a bench near the office, eating ice cream, laughing about something. A young man passed by, glanced at them, and kept looking back. They only laughed harder, more infectiously.
Two days later, they were on the same bench again when the man approached deliberately. He stopped in front of Emily and greeted her.
“And you are?” Charlotte had asked bluntly, making them both snort.
“James. I’ve been coming here every day hoping to see you again. You were here two days ago… Your laugh…” He couldn’t take his eyes off Emily.
She suddenly realised he was serious, that he liked her, feared her sharp rejection. She smiled—and when his mouth fell open in delighted surprise, she laughed brightly, not mockingly, but with genuine happiness, because no one had ever looked at her like that before. Mischievous sparks danced in her half-closed eyes. Later, he told her why he’d fallen for her, not Charlotte, who was more striking, more glamorous.
James won her over with his adoration, his attention, his love. They moved in together and spent two happy years. But then… It was time to propose or part ways. Their relationship had grown comfortable, ordinary.
James became quiet; her laugh no longer charmed him like magic. Convinced his love had faded, Emily broke things off before he could.
He protested, weakly, then packed his things and left. Two weeks later, Emily realised her mistake. Without James, everything was worse. A month in, she was climbing the walls with loneliness. Two months later, she knew she couldn’t live without him.
Just then, Charlotte arrived, complaining that her boyfriend had invited her to a concert. She’d bought a gorgeous blouse but had no trousers to match. Emily offered hers—they were too loose after her heartbreak.
“Then get him back before he finds someone else,” Charlotte suggested.
“No. He’d think I depend on him, that I’m submitting to him,” Emily mused.
“Isn’t it wonderful to submit to the man you love?”
“But what if we reconcile and I feel that boredom again?”
“You overthink everything. Open your laptop—let’s find you a ticket,” Charlotte insisted.
Surprisingly, cheap tickets were available for the right destination, leaving in two weeks.
Emily convinced her boss to approve her leave, claiming she’d go mad if she didn’t escape the city. Travelling alone was daunting—she’d always gone with family, James, or Charlotte and her boyfriend.
“You’re a clever, grown woman, but be careful,” Charlotte warned at the train station.
Emily had refused to fly—planes only went to Brighton, which was expensive and noisy. She wanted solitude. A train was better—lying on her berth, watching the countryside blur past, dozing to the rhythm of the wheels, dreaming of the sea. Stepping out of the dusty carriage, breathing in the salt air, plunging straight into the waves…
She no longer wanted serious commitments. Love often brought pain, disappointment, and the fear it would all end, forcing her to start over.
“You’ll be thirty soon. This isn’t the time to believe everything’s ahead of you. Love changes—it can’t stay perfect, just like people. True love’s rare. You must choose: to love or be loved. So take what’s given—live and be happy without looking too far ahead,” Charlotte advised, while Emily kept searching for James in the crowd.
Her compartment companions were an elderly couple and their teenage grandson. The spotty, scrawny boy stared at Emily without blinking. At first, she ignored it—perhaps he’d never been alone with a pretty girl before. But soon, she stared back, making him blush. Victory.
The grandfather slept or puzzled through crosswords. The grandmother lamented their son’s divorce, how both parents were busy rebuilding their lives, leaving the boy with them. “We’re too old for this,” she sighed. Worse still, they’d been sent on a seaside trip together.
They arrived safely. Emily searched long for a room by the shore, where she could wake to the sound of waves and seabirds. She found one—far from crowded beaches. Perfect. Better to swim and sunbathe alone than among sunburnt bodies and shrieking children.
She spent her days walking the shore, meditating on the horizon, watching distant white ships.
She tanned, regained her glow, and found peace. Then a handsome stranger appeared. Loneliness had worn thin, so she welcomed the company. Daniel said he’d been watching her—he, too, preferred solitude. They had much in common: he was recently divorced, healing by the sea. They walked, swam, dined in cafés, strolled the promenade at night. Shared pain bound them.
Their bond might have stayed platonic if Daniel hadn’t knocked on her window late one evening.
“I came to say goodbye,” he said mournfully. “My father’s in hospital—I leave at dawn. I can’t bear parting like this. You’re everything I ever dreamed of…”
Emily hid her disappointment, opened the window, and let him in. What a night it was—not just passion, but closeness. She forgot everything. How she adored him! No—more than that. She was in love.
“I’ll call. Once Dad’s better, I’ll return,” he whispered.
They exchanged numbers; she gave him her home address. Exhausted, she fell into deep sleep by dawn.
When she woke, Daniel was gone.
She texted, wishing him safe travels, missing him already. *”Thank you for an unforgettable night!”* he replied, with a heart-eyed emoji.
After he left, loneliness became unbearable. She thought of him constantly, trembled at the memories, clutched her phone, waiting for messages. None came. She called—his phone was off. Her texts remained unread. She refused to believe he’d vanished, deceived her.
The next day, she realised her money was gone—only loose change remained. It hit her: she’d been swindled. For days, she mourned her fleeting happiness and gullibility. At least she’d bought her return ticket in advance.
Charlotte had warned her. For all she knew, Daniel wasn’t divorced—just a thief preying on sun-drunk fools.
Then she noticed her keys were missing. She hadn’t hidden them—just tucked them in her suitcase’s outer pocket, which had a zip. They couldn’t have fallen—but why would the landlady take keys to a flat in Manchester? Daniel, however, had her address. He must have snatched them before dawn.
The pain was unbearable. Worse was coming.
The neighbour, hearing sobs on the landing, called a locksmith. Inside, wardrobe doors hung open. Gone was her new laptop, her fur coat, jewellery, anything portable.
“Police should be called,” the neighbour said.
Emily sank onto the sofa, weeping.
What good would police do? She knew nothing real about him—his name was likely fake. He’d sell her things elsewhere, laugh at the gullible fool.
“Never mind. You’re alive,” the neighbour concluded.
Emily wailed. She’d heard stories like this—never thought she’d be tricked by a smooth-talking fraud.
She called Charlotte, who arrived with James.
“I had a feeling something was wrong. I called Charlotte,” he said.
“He kept pestering me about your return. You’d blocked him,” Charlotte explained.
Emily sobbed apologies to James. She’d regretted the breakup, but pride stopped her from returning. Now this…
“It’s my fault. I pushed you away, then fell for a conman…”
James soothed her. “It’s not so bad. Forget the coat, the laptop.”
“He took all my savings—I was saving for a car.”
James and Charlotte exchanged glances.
“Not that much,” Charlotte said.
“If he takes a little from many, it adds up.And as Emily leaned into James’ embrace, she realised that sometimes, the love you push away is the one that stays.
