Squeezing into the overcrowded minibus, Lily quickly took the empty seat before anyone else could. Her morning had been disastrous—the hair dryer broke, her husband grumbled about burnt toast, and she rushed out without breakfast.
Normally, she drove to work with her husband, but his car was in the shop. The ride was long, so she turned to the window, watching the blur of buildings. Yet something nagged at her. Then she felt a gaze and turned—her stomach dropped.
It was Rob, her first and painful love. He smiled. “Hey,” he said, leaning slightly across the narrow aisle. “Knew it was you straight away. You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Hello. Last person I expected to see,” she replied.
“How’ve you been?”
“Fine,” she lied, hoping he’d say his life was miserable, his wife left him—anything.
“All good here,” he said cheerfully. “Wife’s at her job, son just graduated uni and jetted off to Spain. I’d chat more but—” He glanced out the window. “Sorry, this is my stop.” He waved through the glass before vanishing into the crowd.
Lily sat frozen, replaying his words. *Haven’t changed*? She used to be slim; now she was a rounded forty-something. Still, the compliment warmed her.
Her heart raced. She’d imagined this moment—herself successful, him pitiful. But he wasn’t the lean boy she remembered, just a balding, content man with the same piercing eyes.
*Of all days*, she thought. The ride blurred as memories flooded back—field flowers, stolen kisses, whispered promises. By the time she reached her stop, she was lost in thought.
Work dragged. Distracted, she barely functioned. *Why did I see him today? Just to stir up the past?*
At home, her husband, James, called. “Picking up the car from the garage. Might stop by the shed after. Eat without me.”
But appetite gone, she slumped on the sofa, TV murmuring. The past clawed at her—how they’d fought over nothing, how she’d seen him with another girl.
Vera, her old friend, had introduced them. Back then, Vera swore she knew love better than anyone, dictating Lily’s every move. *”Fight with him, then make up—he’ll love you harder,”* she’d urged. Lily obeyed until she realised: *Why am I listening to her?*
She’d ignored Vera after that.
Then, on her birthday, Rob never showed. Vera smirked. “He’s gone to his gran’s in the countryside. No mobiles back then, so Lily couldn’t check.
A week later, she spotted Rob outside a pub with mates. He glanced at her, then away. Laughter followed her as she fled.
At home, she sobbed. *Why?* Pride stopped her from confronting him.
Vera returned. “Still moping? He’s with someone else now.”
Lily saw them together—Rob and a new girl. Hope flickered, but spring brought a final blow: his wedding. She passed the cheerful procession, their eyes meeting. “Hi,” he tossed carelessly. Her heart shattered.
That night, she vowed: *No more tears.* She left town, married James—steady, kind. Years later, she bumped into Vera, aged and bitter. “I ruined you and Rob,” she confessed. “Told him you were two-timing. Made sure he married someone else. I envied you.”
Lily hadn’t forgiven her then.
But today, seeing Rob, she finally let go. Some things weren’t meant to be. She had a good life—James, their boys. Who knew what might’ve been?
