“Don’t Regret. If He Left, He Didn’t Love You.”
“Won’t you freeze in that dress? It’s below zero out there, and the forecast says it’ll drop even more tonight,” Mum said, peering into Emily’s room.
“I won’t be outside long—it’s just next door. I can’t wear jeans to a birthday party,” Emily replied, adjusting the belt of her dress in front of the mirror.
“Is Daniel picking you up?” Mum asked.
“No, he said he’d be late. His mate’s computer broke, and he’s fixing it,” Emily answered breezily.
“He could finish tomorrow if he’s short on time. It’s not right for you to go alone.”
“Mum, no one cares about that anymore. What’s the big deal? So we don’t arrive together—so what? I’ve got to go, I’m late as it is.” Emily shoved her heels into a bag and headed for the hallway.
She knew Mum didn’t like Daniel. It all started when he kissed Emily right in front of her. “It’s not proper. There should be some decency,” Mum had scolded after he left.
Emily pulled on her warm boots, wrapped a thick scarf around her neck, and slipped into her long coat.
“No hat?” Mum gasped.
“I spent ages curling my hair—what hat? I’m off.” Emily unlocked the door and hurried out.
Mum called something after her, but Emily was already rushing down the stairs, her mind full of the fun evening ahead and seeing Daniel.
Their romance had been swift and intense. She hoped he’d propose any day now.
The freezing air bit her face and hands, creeping under her coat. Emily tugged her scarf higher, burying her nose in it, and hurried to her friend Charlotte’s house. “If only Daniel would hurry up,” she thought. Half an hour ago, she’d called him. “Don’t distract me, then I’ll be quick,” he’d snapped. She hadn’t rung again.
In the stairwell, Emily lowered her scarf. She took the steps instead of the lift to warm up. Even though she and Charlotte lived just a few streets apart, the cold had seeped in.
The flat door was ajar, music spilling out. Some lad stepping out for a smoke must’ve left it open—or maybe Charlotte kept it unlocked for stragglers. “Lucky. Less attention on me,” Emily thought as she slipped into the dim hallway. The thumping bass and laughter hit her instantly.
She shrugged off her coat, stuffed her scarf into the sleeve. The rack was crammed with bulky jackets. Charlotte had invited half the town. Emily squeezed her coat onto a hook, slipped on her chilled heels, and stepped into the room.
Bright lights blinded her after the dark hall; the music pounded in her chest. A dozen lads and girls danced around the table, filling the space. No one noticed her. She scanned the crowd for Charlotte but couldn’t spot her.
Weaving through dancers, Emily headed for the kitchen. As she reached the glass door, it swung open—Charlotte collided with her, cheeks flushed, lips curled in triumph. Then confusion wiped the grin off her face.
Behind Charlotte stood Daniel, smoothing his rumpled hair.
“You’re here already?” Emily asked, glancing between them.
Charlotte recovered fast, smiling like nothing was wrong. “Party’s in full swing! Why so late? Fancy a dance? Or a drink first?” She brushed past Emily.
“You didn’t call. Didn’t notice I wasn’t here? Or were you too busy?” Emily’s voice dripped with hurt.
“Didn’t have time. Just got here myself.” Daniel leaned in for a kiss, but Emily recoiled.
She caught the scent of Charlotte’s perfume.
“Em, what’s wrong? We were just cutting cake,” Daniel lied.
“Wipe the lipstick off your cheek. Give this to her.” She shoved the gift bag at him and pushed through the crowd.
In the hall, she kicked off her heels, yanked on her boots, snatched her coat, and bolted. Her scarf slipped onto the stairs, but as she bent to grab it, Daniel burst out. Emily sprinted down.
“Em, you’ve got it all wrong!” he shouted.
Outside, the cold slapped her face. She remembered the forgotten heels—but no way was she going back. “How could he? Got here early, didn’t call, didn’t look for me… And Charlotte. How could she?” Betrayal choked her. Tears froze on her lashes; her nose went numb.
Where now? Home? Mum would ask questions, say she never liked Daniel anyway. Church? Too far, too crowded.
She’d wandered far. A shop offered shelter. Empty, except for a bored cashier eyeing her. Emily draped her scarf over her head, knotted it tight, and stepped back into the cold.
Footsteps crunched behind her—a tall bloke in black, hood up. No one else around. She sped up, but he matched her pace. Breath ragged, she nearly stumbled.
“Running from someone?” he asked.
She ignored him.
“Got dumped? Don’t regret it. If he left, he didn’t love you.”
Emily halted, ready to snap—but his eyes under the hood were kind. No threat. She walked on silently.
They reached her building.
“Thanks for walking me,” she mumbled.
“Couldn’t leave you alone. I’m Liam.”
“Emily. Now you’ll ask for my number?” she scoffed.
“Would you give it?” His voice held a smile.
She rattled it off. “Bye.”
No footsteps followed.
“I’ll call!” he shouted as the door shut.
Climbing the stairs, she realised—she wasn’t crying over Daniel anymore.
“Back early?” Mum called from the sofa, waiting for the Christmas service.
“Too cold.” Emily retreated to her room.
The weight of loss crushed her. Charlotte. Daniel. Gone. “Don’t regret. If he left, he didn’t love you,” Liam’s words echoed.
“He didn’t,” she whispered, weeping.
Church hymns drifted from the telly. Moonlight spilled through the window.
Liam called the next day, asked her to the cinema.
“Too chilly for ice-skating. Fancy it?”
Why not? Forget Daniel faster. Over coffee after, they talked easily. They met daily after that.
Daniel never called. Charlotte returned the heels.
“Just a drunken kiss. Nothing more,” she pleaded.
The conversation was stiff. What stung wasn’t the kiss—but Daniel not waiting, not chasing her. If he’d loved her, he would’ve fought.
Liam proposed.
“You barely know him,” Mum fretted.
“Did you know Dad well before marrying? How long did you date?”
“Two years.”
“Two years, and you still didn’t see he’d betray you. Time doesn’t matter—what comes after does.”
“You’re all grown up,” Mum sighed, hugging her.
A year later, their son was born. Three years on, a daughter.
Emily couldn’t imagine life without Liam. A loving husband, a devoted father—what more could she want? Maybe just a long, happy life together, watching their children grow, someday grandchildren, even great-grandchildren. Leaving this world side by side, having drunk life to the dregs.
They say marriages are made in heaven. Maybe someone arranged their meeting that Christmas Eve.
Miracles happen—not just in fairy tales, but on holy nights.
Then again, where or when you meet doesn’t matter. What counts is finding your other half. Not missing them. Not walking past.
