**Diary Entry**
As my workday neared its end, my phone chimed with the familiar tune Lily had set as her ringtone. I answered, hearing her voice—bright, expectant.
“James, I’m at the salon. Come pick me up, you know the one.”
“On my way,” I replied before hanging up.
Lily’s salon visits always stretched to two hours, so I took my time leaving the office. After waiting outside for a while, I popped into the café next door. She’d call when she was done, I figured, settling at a table. A waiter appeared instantly, and I ordered a light bite.
I finished my food, scrolled through the news, watched a few clips—still no Lily.
*I wonder how much she’s spending today.* The thought flickered, though it wasn’t my concern. Lily paid for her beauty treatments herself—well, her father did. A wealthy businessman, he spoiled his only daughter rotten.
We’d been dating seven months, sometimes staying at my modest two-bedroom flat. But when she grew tired of it, she’d retreat to her parents’ sprawling three-story mansion in the countryside. Privileged, pampered—she lacked for nothing.
Lily had introduced me to her parents. Her mother’s lukewarm reaction was obvious. What could a twenty-seven-year-old IT bloke offer? Still, Lily must have said something, because the disapproval never spilled into words. But I felt it—I wasn’t their sort.
Truthfully, I’d started seeing the cracks. Lily wasn’t the wife I’d imagined, yet I hadn’t backed out. Then her father made things clear: *”Whoever makes my daughter happy, I’ll make happy. But if she’s unhappy…”* The unspoken threat lingered.
Lily was beautiful, capricious. I never understood the hours she spent at the salon—she was stunning without it. Witty, sharp, but spoiled and arrogant, a side effect of her father’s endless chequebook. Just yesterday, she’d announced, *”James, we’re off to the Maldives in ten days. Dad’s paying. I need a break.”*
*From what?* I’d wanted to ask. She didn’t work.
“But I do,” I’d protested.
“Dad will sort it.”
The whole thing left me uneasy. After her father’s not-so-subtle nudge, marrying her felt less like choice, more like obligation. Lily’s constant talk of her father’s money grated. We were from different worlds, yet I’d still planned to propose.
Lost in thought over my coffee, a voice jolted me.
“James? Blimey, is that you?” A stranger grinned like an old friend. Then it clicked—*Tom*. My childhood mate.
“Tom!” I shot up, embracing him. “Twelve years, at least! What are you doing here?”
“Look at you—proper grown-up,” he said, clapping my shoulder. “Solid bloke now.”
“You’re not so scrawny yourself.”
“Meeting my sister, Emily. She’s at the Royal Academy—final year, performing tonight. Not my scene, so I ducked in here.”
“Emily! How is she?”
“Brilliant. Talented. No connections, just raw skill.”
“I’d love to see her.”
“No problem. She’ll ring soon—the Academy’s nearby. Join us, unless you’re waiting for someone?”
“My fiancée, Lily. She’s at the salon.”
Tom nodded. “We’ll swing by after.”
Memories flooded back—summers at my grandparents’, next door to Tom and Emily’s family. Their place had a sprawling garden, a lake nearby. We’d fish, cook over a fire, strum guitars under the stars. Emily—sweet, dark-haired, my first crush.
I was smiling when Lily’s voice cut in. “Who are you grinning at?”
“Just good memories. You’re finally done.” I scanned her, searching for changes.
“Well?” She twirled.
“Lovely.”
“*Lovely?* This ‘lovely’ cost a fortune. Manicure, facial—flawless, right?”
“Stunning, as always.”
“We’re expected at my parents’. Guests tonight.” Her tone left no room for debate.
“Can’t. I’m meeting old friends—they’re on their way.”
She pouted, ready to argue, but Tom returned with Emily.
“James!” Emily flung her arms around me, kissing my cheek. “Look at you! All grown up!”
She was radiant—soft, warm. I didn’t want to let go.
Lily’s voice was icy. “Hello.”
“Lily, my fiancée,” I said hastily.
Tom grinned. “Pleasure.”
We fell into easy chatter—summers, the lake, lazy afternoons under the apple tree. Lily stayed silent, then sneered, *”I’d rather be under a parasol in the Maldives. Dad’s pool is bigger than your muddy pond.”*
Tom smirked. “Any fish in the Maldives?”
“Only on plates at restaurants,” she shot back.
Later, as we parted, Emily asked, “Coming to visit us?”
“Absolutely. This weekend.”
Lily declared she’d join, though I protested. “You’ll hate it—bugs, no luxuries.”
“Bring bottled water,” she muttered.
“Pack a portable loo while you’re at it,” I grumbled.
At Tom’s, his parents hosted us under their apple tree. Laughter, skewers sizzling on the grill—bliss. Lily complained nonstop: *”Grass itches. Meat smells odd. Mosquito bit me. Sun’s in my eyes.”*
“Relax,” I snapped. “Go inside if it’s too much.”
At the lake, I asked Emily, “Seeing anyone?”
“Not lately. Why?”
“You’re gorgeous. Talented too.”
Tom chuckled. “She knits, sews, even makes dumplings.”
Lily’s skills? *”She’s great at spinning tales,”* I muttered.
Tom patted my back. “You’ll learn to cook.”
The thought of a life tied to Lily—endless restaurants, her father’s shadow—chilled me.
On the drive back, Lily hissed, *”Never taking me there again. Maldives next week—can’t wait.”*
“Actually, I’m not going.”
“You’ll lose me if you don’t.”
“No.” Silence filled the car.
*I’d rather have apple trees and fishing. I won’t marry her.* The realisation lifted a weight. I wasn’t afraid of her father. I’d never fit her world.
At her door, she glared. “Last chance.”
“No. I’m heading to the countryside. We’re not right for each other.”
“Suit yourself. Goodbye.” She flounced off.
Relief washed over me. I dialled Emily. “I’ll be there in two days. Just me.”
Her quiet *”Okay”* felt like a new beginning.
Humming, I ignored the call from Lily’s father. Some things weren’t worth ruining the moment.
