Hannah was on her way to see the man she loved—or rather, flying on the wings of happiness. Finally, her son had finished school and started university. Now, at last, she and her husband could live together properly.
The very day she sent her son off, she bought a bus ticket and headed to Steven. They’d only been married two years, but it felt like they’d known each other forever.
Their relationship hadn’t been smooth sailing—rocky at the start, tough in the middle—but fate had promised them a happy future together. At least, Hannah was certain of it.
They’d met eight years ago, back when she was still reeling from her divorce. It had taken her a while to trust again—until Steven came along. Even then, she’d hesitated. He’d had to work hard to convince her he wasn’t like her ex, David.
They dated for six months before moving in together. Steven relocated to her place—his tiny flat would’ve been cramped for three, especially with her ten-year-old son, Jack. Lovely lad, though he and his stepdad hadn’t exactly hit it off straight away.
After three years, Steven started hinting at marriage. But Hannah wasn’t keen. Stamps in a passport didn’t stop infidelity, did they? She was happy as things were—no need to fix what wasn’t broken.
For a while, Steven shrugged it off. Then he decided he wanted her as his wife in every sense. When gentle hints failed, he gave her an ultimatum: marry or go their separate ways.
Hannah wasn’t impressed. If he was going to push, she’d rather walk. So they did—for six whole months.
In that time, Steven moved to another city, where an old friend had offered him a well-paying job. He rarely returned, just the occasional visit to his parents. And on one of those trips, he bumped into Hannah again.
She’d been strolling through the park, looking perfectly content—until she spotted him.
One glance, and he knew. She still loved him. And she wasn’t hiding it well.
They started seeing each other again—long-distance this time. Sometimes she visited him, sometimes he came to her. Every meeting was carefully planned, yet bursting with warmth and passion.
They managed monthly visits, twice if they were lucky. Steven kept offering to have her move in—he’d even bought a two-bedroom flat (mortgage and all). Hannah wanted to—God knew she did—but life kept getting in the way. Jack was a teenager who needed watching, and then her mum fell ill, needing constant care.
Two years of juggling later, her mother finally recovered.
“Plenty of life left in you yet!” the doctor cheerfully declared at her final check-up.
Eileen no longer needed her, but Jack had just started his GCSEs. He begged her not to move until he’d finished school. So she stayed.
That summer, before Jack’s A-levels, Hannah and Steven finally tied the knee. Seeing his joy, she almost regretted not doing it sooner—but no point crying over spilt tea.
Now, they weren’t just dating. Their arrangement could’ve been called a commuter marriage, if not for the miles between them.
Finally, Jack got into uni. Proud as she was, Hannah knew it was time to sort her own life out. She didn’t tell Steven she was moving in—she wanted to surprise him.
(Though, let’s be honest, he probably guessed.)
Packing her suitcase, she boarded the bus to his place, already picturing the scene: lace lingerie, rose petals on fresh sheets, a candlelit dinner before he got home from work.
Lost in her daydream, she almost missed her stop.
She let herself in with her key—then froze.
A pair of bright blue eyes stared back at her.
A redhead. Very pretty. Very young.
“Who are you?” Hannah demanded.
“Oh! You must be Hannah. Sorry, I’ll just—”
“Just what? Who *are* you?”
“Don’t panic! I’m Veronica. Steven’s girlfriend.”
“His *what*?”
“Look, it’s not what you think! He’s lovely, and he *adores* you—”
“Adores me? Is that why he’s shacked up with someone else? How old even are you? Twenty?”
“Twenty-one, actually. We met by chance—I had nowhere to go, so he let me stay. We were just friends at first, but… I fell for him. I *know* he doesn’t love me—he only loves you. But he was lonely. I just… helped.”
Hannah blinked. Was this girl serious? She’d never once suspected Steven of cheating—no stray hairs, no misplaced perfume. Nothing.
“I’ll pack my things. You obviously didn’t warn him you were coming, so he didn’t tell me to leave. Sorry about this!”
“Wait—you’ve done this before?”
“Um… yes? A year and a half now. Whenever you visit, I clear out, scrub the place, make sure not a single trace of me is left. Steven didn’t want to upset you. Wouldn’t even let me touch your shampoo, let alone your clothes. But now—”
“You think the *only* upsetting part is me *noticing*?”
Hannah wasn’t sure why she was still listening, but Veronica babbled on nervously.
“Honestly, don’t overthink it. He *only* loves you!”
“And sleeps with you when I’m not here?”
“Try not to dwell on that. There’s no real feeling there—I *promise*!”
Just then, the door opened. Steven walked in—Veronica must’ve texted him.
He looked gutted.
“Hannah, love, this means *nothing*. I only want *you*.” He reached for her, but she shoved him back.
“A *year and a half* of lies? *That’s* your love?”
Steven rounded on Veronica. “*Why* would you say that?”
“You didn’t warn me she was coming!”
“I didn’t *know*!” He turned back to Hannah, pleading. “She’s leaving. We’ll talk. *Please*.”
“Nothing to discuss. And Veronica—don’t bother going. *I’m* the one leaving.”
“No, you *should* stay. Steven needs you. It’s always been you!”
“I’ll decide where I belong!” Hannah snapped, grabbed her suitcase, and stormed out.
The bus ride home was a blur of angry tears. She couldn’t believe it.
How could Steven do this? And with someone barely older than *Jack*?
For two months, she stewed, heartbroken yet still in love. Then—a knock.
Veronica stood there, holding a cat carrier.
“Sorry to turn up unannounced. I got your address from Steven… back when he was alive.”
“*Alive*? What?”
“After you left, he was a wreck. Not like before—he was *devastated*. A week ago, he said he wasn’t coming home. I thought it was a joke, but then… an accident. I think he did it on purpose. He couldn’t live without you.” She held out the carrier. “I didn’t know who else to leave Marshmallow with. You loved her too, right?”
Hannah took the cat numbly, staring at the death certificate. She hadn’t even been told.
As Veronica left, Hannah cuddled Marshmallow, tears falling freely. The world felt like it had stopped—
“Love, wake up—we’re here!”
Hannah jolted awake. The bus driver shook her shoulder.
Touching her damp cheeks, she shuddered.
“What a nightmare! God forbid.”
Still, doubt niggled. What if it was a warning?
She decided not to call ahead.
Arriving at Steven’s, she held her breath, terrified Veronica would be there.
Instead—just Marshmallow’s cheerful “*Meow!*”
That evening, Steven came home to find Hannah on rose-strewn sheets, wearing lace. His delight was unmistakable.
“I’m staying!” she smiled, wondering if she should mention the dream…
“*Finally!*” he grinned, blissfully unaware of the nightmare she’d just lived through.
